Tonight I was talking with a friend who I hadn't seen or spent time with in quite a while. We met at youth group and that was really the only Ike we saw each other, so when she couldn't come for several monthes, we sort of lost touch. In tonight's conversation she said how glad she was to be coming back this weekend after so long, how much she'd missed her "second family". She was excited to not only reconnect with our group, but to introduce her boyfriend to us, who she said will fit in perfectly.
This talk reminded me of another that I had at school this week, when a friend from both school and church came to lunch and we briefly discussed our youth group. A girl at the table remarked on how much drama there is in the group and how deeply involved we are in each others lives and how strange it seemed to her. It's a discussion we'd had a few times when I would mention some altercation or frustrating situation with one of the kids in the group. I thought about it more at length tonight and decided that my friend is right, we are very involved, and there is quite a lot of drama when it comes to the youth group.
But is that all that bad?
We are very active in each others lives. Every week after youth group, John and I have a talk about my romantic issues of the week and whatever is going on with his current girlfriend. Tyler frequently calls me when he knows I'm having a particularly hard week or if something frustrating is going on in his life. I'm a big sister for most of the boys in the group, teasing them about girls, encouraging them to make good choices, scoping out their new girlfriends, listening when they have fights with siblings or parents. Taylor and I have scores of ongoing jokes and pranks when it comes to beating the guys at whatever game we play. I've always had more trouble connecting with girls than guys, so all the easy, fun, loving relationships I have with the girls has been a huge blessing. Especially the younger girls, who go out of their way to encourage me and anyone else who walks through the door.
And drama? Yes, we have more than enough. But it stems from the deep relationships we have. We're all so protective of each other, and when one is wronged, the whole group responds one way or another. And being highschoolers, we have plenty of romantics entanglements, but thankfully they hardly ever result in either the guy or girl leaving the group when it's over. Also, being highschoolers, we have lots of kids with lots of opinions, passions, and convictions. There is never a lack of debate and discussion, and there are days it causes some strife. But in the end, things are always resolved.
We share everything with each other so we can help and encourage one another. We often butt heads. We watch each others backs. We form a support system that can not be broken. We're crazy and opinionated and ridiculous. We're also broken, scarred, but healing people. We bicker, we quarrel, but more than anything else, we love.
They're my second family.
*Note: this isn't saying that all groups should function this way or even that we're completely different, but only that we are well suited for each other and I appreciate them all so much*
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Creative Inspiration
What inspires us? Or specifically, what inspires you? Is it people, or music, or God, or literature, or lanscapes, or photography, or laughter, or worship, or community, or family, or writing, or singing, or texting, or sports, or beauty, or fashion, or weather, or gardens, or seasons, or Facebook, or HTML, or videos, or movies, or zombies, or vampires, or hash tags, or money, or breathing, or thinking, or reflective surfaces, or fictional people, or historical people, or science fiction, or stars, or planets, or check marks, or grades, or scholarships, or werewolves, or SAT scores, or random freak happenings, or musicals, or theaters, or architecture, or spelling, or grammar, or YouTube, or the fair, or anger, or your childhood, or sadness, or joy, or memories, or Twitter, or sprinklers, or ice cream, or baking, or reading, or sprinkles, or fictional worlds, or the future, or heaven, or hell, or angels, or demons, or clouds, or any number of the millions upon millions of things that strike that something inside of us that wants to create, to be remembered, to feel, and make others feel?
What inspires you?
Lately I've been in this sort of creative rut, because all of my energy is sucked up by relationships and school and church, and trying to still stay close to God through all of it. The first time in months that I've been able to make something remotely creative was when I sat down to write a letter to my ex-boyfriend. One of those never-will-be-sent letters, because I needed for those feelings to be out of me, for them to mean something, but I couldn't handle telling him or any of my friends because I'm smart enough to know it would just blow up in my face. And for a few hours, yes, I was sad. But after it was done I felt a little bit emptier, like there was room for me to create again. Since then I've been able to feel everything a little clearer, process my world in a better way. Last night when my whole family was gone for one reason or another I just sat in the rain with my dog next to me, and thought. Not about how badly I felt, or how much I'd ruined things with so many people, or how to make things better and fix everything. I just thought. I let my mind run free for a few minutes.
I thought about the rain. How it dripped down on my shoulders and soaked through my shirt, a shirt my dad had bought me because I loved Pirates of the Caribbean so much in junior high. I watched the rain drops hit the street and was overwhelmed by the sheer number of them, and I thought of how there were probably billions of raindrops falling from the clouds so far away from me, and how there were more raindrops falling within my eye line than there are people in the world. I thought about how big our God is and how perfectly he has orchestrated this world we live in. I thought about the rain falling softly on my head and concentrated on feeling every last molecule of it, just glad to be completely certain of something as simple as a raindrop hitting my head. I pondered the sensation of a raindrop sliding down my face, catching on my eyelash, and dropping on my knee, and precisely how different it was than feeling a tear follow a similar path; the tear would be a part of me, it represents a feeling or emotion, its hot and stinging and salty, while a raindrop is something foreign and alien, a part of a water cycle that will continue no matter what I decide, its cool, clean, calm, and refreshing.
When I came in to get cleaned up before my family returned home I was full of feelings again, the hole left by the letter filled to the brim. But it was different, because the emotion and creativity and thought that filled it was not from me. It came from outside of me, I felt inspired. I wanted to tun to my room and just start writing before it all escaped, because each of those thoughts could be a full formed story or essay by the end of the night. Instead I showered and by the time I was out my sister was home and we sat on the couch and shared a bag of candy and a movie, one more thing to add to the list of moments that inspired me that night.
And today, what inspires me?
Everything. I found my creativity again, after all these months. I've devoured ten books in the last week. My mind is swirling with the impressions from music, videos, friends and their thoughts, classes, prayer, poetry, family relationships. I can't seem to write fast enough to get it all down.
So for all of you who care enough to read my thoughts online: I'm sorry that I've been inconsistent about posting, and I'm not saying its going to get much better, but now I can promise the words won't be empty.
What inspires you?
Lately I've been in this sort of creative rut, because all of my energy is sucked up by relationships and school and church, and trying to still stay close to God through all of it. The first time in months that I've been able to make something remotely creative was when I sat down to write a letter to my ex-boyfriend. One of those never-will-be-sent letters, because I needed for those feelings to be out of me, for them to mean something, but I couldn't handle telling him or any of my friends because I'm smart enough to know it would just blow up in my face. And for a few hours, yes, I was sad. But after it was done I felt a little bit emptier, like there was room for me to create again. Since then I've been able to feel everything a little clearer, process my world in a better way. Last night when my whole family was gone for one reason or another I just sat in the rain with my dog next to me, and thought. Not about how badly I felt, or how much I'd ruined things with so many people, or how to make things better and fix everything. I just thought. I let my mind run free for a few minutes.
I thought about the rain. How it dripped down on my shoulders and soaked through my shirt, a shirt my dad had bought me because I loved Pirates of the Caribbean so much in junior high. I watched the rain drops hit the street and was overwhelmed by the sheer number of them, and I thought of how there were probably billions of raindrops falling from the clouds so far away from me, and how there were more raindrops falling within my eye line than there are people in the world. I thought about how big our God is and how perfectly he has orchestrated this world we live in. I thought about the rain falling softly on my head and concentrated on feeling every last molecule of it, just glad to be completely certain of something as simple as a raindrop hitting my head. I pondered the sensation of a raindrop sliding down my face, catching on my eyelash, and dropping on my knee, and precisely how different it was than feeling a tear follow a similar path; the tear would be a part of me, it represents a feeling or emotion, its hot and stinging and salty, while a raindrop is something foreign and alien, a part of a water cycle that will continue no matter what I decide, its cool, clean, calm, and refreshing.
When I came in to get cleaned up before my family returned home I was full of feelings again, the hole left by the letter filled to the brim. But it was different, because the emotion and creativity and thought that filled it was not from me. It came from outside of me, I felt inspired. I wanted to tun to my room and just start writing before it all escaped, because each of those thoughts could be a full formed story or essay by the end of the night. Instead I showered and by the time I was out my sister was home and we sat on the couch and shared a bag of candy and a movie, one more thing to add to the list of moments that inspired me that night.
And today, what inspires me?
Everything. I found my creativity again, after all these months. I've devoured ten books in the last week. My mind is swirling with the impressions from music, videos, friends and their thoughts, classes, prayer, poetry, family relationships. I can't seem to write fast enough to get it all down.
So for all of you who care enough to read my thoughts online: I'm sorry that I've been inconsistent about posting, and I'm not saying its going to get much better, but now I can promise the words won't be empty.
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Forewarning...
...This is going to be a strange post. For two reasons!
1) I just watched a few vlogbrothers videos, which always make me talk weird (I don't know if other people notice but I do!)
2) It's on a subject I don't particularly enjoy talking about, but for some reason feel compelled to write on.
Media.
It's been a theme in my life for a few days, simply because of the circumstances I've been in. The combined stress of family visiting for the weekend, senior year starting, my youth pastor leaving, 'ending' a relationship with someone I care deeply about, and a few more sensitive things has made me grumpy, irritable, sad, nauseous, and sleep-deprived. It really isn't a whole lot of fun.
So the other night I had just gotten off the phone after an emotional conversation and I knew I wasn't going to be able to sleep immediately, and I wandered into the living room thinking: "I just need some mindless TV to get my thoughts off of it." And I sat down, turned on some sitcom like How I Met Your Mother, Friends, or 8 Simple Rules, and turned off my brain for a while.
Now I'm not usually someone who looks for ways to stop thinking. My brain is a pretty powerful processor, and with obvious exceptions, I like the conclusions it comes up with. But that night I just wanted to stop thinking about everything going on and be somewhere else mentally. A day or so later in either my Psychology or Understanding the Times class (or maybe both) the teacher talked about how everything has a worldview, whether we realize it or not. Music, movies, books, advertisements, TV shows, it all has a worldview that it was filtered through as it was created. And 99% of the time, that worldview is not the same one we hold as Christians. So what does that mean? We enforce some kind of media blackout on ourselves? Only taking in things deemed "Christian"?
No!
But we do have to be discerning. I know personally I don't often 'turn off' my brain when I'm watching TV or listening to music, but I've heard the phrase from my friends before, and the more I think about it, the more it worries me. When we turn off our minds, so to speak, we leave room for whatever we're watching/listening to/reading to plant itself on our brains. The worldview and opinions of the media become lodged in our heads, and with repition, they can get stuck there permanently.
So I guess this is just a warning, or something like that:
Keep your brains turned on.
1) I just watched a few vlogbrothers videos, which always make me talk weird (I don't know if other people notice but I do!)
2) It's on a subject I don't particularly enjoy talking about, but for some reason feel compelled to write on.
Media.
It's been a theme in my life for a few days, simply because of the circumstances I've been in. The combined stress of family visiting for the weekend, senior year starting, my youth pastor leaving, 'ending' a relationship with someone I care deeply about, and a few more sensitive things has made me grumpy, irritable, sad, nauseous, and sleep-deprived. It really isn't a whole lot of fun.
So the other night I had just gotten off the phone after an emotional conversation and I knew I wasn't going to be able to sleep immediately, and I wandered into the living room thinking: "I just need some mindless TV to get my thoughts off of it." And I sat down, turned on some sitcom like How I Met Your Mother, Friends, or 8 Simple Rules, and turned off my brain for a while.
Now I'm not usually someone who looks for ways to stop thinking. My brain is a pretty powerful processor, and with obvious exceptions, I like the conclusions it comes up with. But that night I just wanted to stop thinking about everything going on and be somewhere else mentally. A day or so later in either my Psychology or Understanding the Times class (or maybe both) the teacher talked about how everything has a worldview, whether we realize it or not. Music, movies, books, advertisements, TV shows, it all has a worldview that it was filtered through as it was created. And 99% of the time, that worldview is not the same one we hold as Christians. So what does that mean? We enforce some kind of media blackout on ourselves? Only taking in things deemed "Christian"?
No!
But we do have to be discerning. I know personally I don't often 'turn off' my brain when I'm watching TV or listening to music, but I've heard the phrase from my friends before, and the more I think about it, the more it worries me. When we turn off our minds, so to speak, we leave room for whatever we're watching/listening to/reading to plant itself on our brains. The worldview and opinions of the media become lodged in our heads, and with repition, they can get stuck there permanently.
So I guess this is just a warning, or something like that:
Keep your brains turned on.
Saturday, August 13, 2011
Ah, Summer...
Well, summer is drawing to a close. Last weekend of the season. Actually, a few of my friends have already gone back to school this last week, but for the most part everyone I know goes back in the next few days, whether its Monday, Tuesday, or Wednesday. And all over Facebook and Youtube and other networks I see teenagers complaining
"Where did summer go?!"
"This is crap..."
"Why do we start so early?"
"One week left :("
And other such whining. Even my brother groans out loud whenever some one asks if he's excited about school starting up again. On the other hand, there are those few idividuals who can't wait for the new school year. It's all countdowns and exclamations on their Facebook pages.
Both sides are wrong.
At least that's how I feel about it. The last two weeks of summer are always like this, the opposing sides of those dreading school and those anticipating it. I won't lie, previous years I was on one side or the other. This year however, I'm just frustrated by both.
Why not just enjoy it?
It sounds simplistic, but honestly, why worry about it either way? School is going to start whether we want it to or not. Time doesn't slow down or speed up for us. Spend the last few days of summer enjoying it! Not thinking about the new year. You don't have to necessarily cram the last days with activity, because isn't that what we hate about the school year? Just relax everyone. The world isn't ending, it's just school starting.
"Where did summer go?!"
"This is crap..."
"Why do we start so early?"
"One week left :("
And other such whining. Even my brother groans out loud whenever some one asks if he's excited about school starting up again. On the other hand, there are those few idividuals who can't wait for the new school year. It's all countdowns and exclamations on their Facebook pages.
Both sides are wrong.
At least that's how I feel about it. The last two weeks of summer are always like this, the opposing sides of those dreading school and those anticipating it. I won't lie, previous years I was on one side or the other. This year however, I'm just frustrated by both.
Why not just enjoy it?
It sounds simplistic, but honestly, why worry about it either way? School is going to start whether we want it to or not. Time doesn't slow down or speed up for us. Spend the last few days of summer enjoying it! Not thinking about the new year. You don't have to necessarily cram the last days with activity, because isn't that what we hate about the school year? Just relax everyone. The world isn't ending, it's just school starting.
Saturday, July 30, 2011
We Are A New Creation
Home.
I guess.
No disrespect to all the wonderful people here at home, but I know I'm not the only one who feels oddly displaced. Walking back up to your house, digging through cupboards for dinner, checking your Facebook, and then actually sleeping in your own bed... All of it feels wrong. Just a little bit off. A few weeks ago I came home from spending a week with my cousins in another state, and coming home felt like a big sigh of relief. Now it just feels... Empty.
Where are my brothers and sisters?
I keep thinking I'll turn around and see Cabe or Brandon doing some strange dance, or Colton on top of a roof somewhere, or Taylor hit some guy with a frisbee, or Austin comforting someone, or Tyler pondering where his life is heading, or any number of encouraging and/or entertaining things that were always just behind me during the whole week. I feel like I'm missing a limb, knowing I won't see them all again until tomorrow. And that feels like forever away.
But at the same time...
I am full of encouragement because of what I saw this week. God did some INCREDIBLE things through the people at CIY. Last year's tagline was "no matter what" and that really hit home for me. All year it was my mission to be there for my brothers and sisters no matter what they were dealing with. This year the tag was "something bigger". And that's exactly what we're doing. 13 people in our group of 23 were baptized Thursday night. 13. Including my actual biological brother, three of my absolute BEST friends in the world, and my boyfriend, who had made an important decision to completely surrender his life and his actions to God's will. It was amazing and completely perfect. I was entirely overwhelmed by the whole things. Also 6 of us dedicated our lives to full time ministry, whether for the first time or just solidifying that choice. (Correct me if I'm wrong but I think-) John, Carter, and I are going into worship and music ministry, Taylor has a wild and crazy dream about traveling the country in a bus to reach people for God, Austin is considering a mixture of youth ministry and mission work, and I'm guessing here but I think Marcus is doing something pastoral. It was so cool just to see the number of people who stood up in the last evening session to say "I am going to be a Kingdom worker." and then those who said they would be going into full-time ministry. They asked us to go into the lobby so we could sign up for some information and the whole room was packed with teenagers who will be serving God in their communities.
I know for those of you who weren't there this post sounds rambly, but don't worry, here's my point:
Our group changed this week. We went into it knowing that when we came home our leader Chad would be leaving the church. For me, the whole week had a bittersweet taste because Chad has been such a HUGE part of my life the last six years or so. Before camp I was sincerely struggling with how to deal with youth group without him. He was the one who first told me I had leadership qualities. He has shaped me in ways I don't think I even totally understand right now. God has used him in my life and in the lives of every kid who walked through the doors of our youth room. And I didn't know how we could go on without him.
Now I know.
We are new. We are changed. It's our job now to take what we've learned and use it to change others. God has given us a gift and a unity so that we can make a difference in the lives of our friends.
It's time to do Something Bigger.
*Yes, for those of you who were at CIY, the line is actually "I am a new creation", but in the spirit of unity, I refocused it for my blog title*
I guess.
No disrespect to all the wonderful people here at home, but I know I'm not the only one who feels oddly displaced. Walking back up to your house, digging through cupboards for dinner, checking your Facebook, and then actually sleeping in your own bed... All of it feels wrong. Just a little bit off. A few weeks ago I came home from spending a week with my cousins in another state, and coming home felt like a big sigh of relief. Now it just feels... Empty.
Where are my brothers and sisters?
I keep thinking I'll turn around and see Cabe or Brandon doing some strange dance, or Colton on top of a roof somewhere, or Taylor hit some guy with a frisbee, or Austin comforting someone, or Tyler pondering where his life is heading, or any number of encouraging and/or entertaining things that were always just behind me during the whole week. I feel like I'm missing a limb, knowing I won't see them all again until tomorrow. And that feels like forever away.
But at the same time...
I am full of encouragement because of what I saw this week. God did some INCREDIBLE things through the people at CIY. Last year's tagline was "no matter what" and that really hit home for me. All year it was my mission to be there for my brothers and sisters no matter what they were dealing with. This year the tag was "something bigger". And that's exactly what we're doing. 13 people in our group of 23 were baptized Thursday night. 13. Including my actual biological brother, three of my absolute BEST friends in the world, and my boyfriend, who had made an important decision to completely surrender his life and his actions to God's will. It was amazing and completely perfect. I was entirely overwhelmed by the whole things. Also 6 of us dedicated our lives to full time ministry, whether for the first time or just solidifying that choice. (Correct me if I'm wrong but I think-) John, Carter, and I are going into worship and music ministry, Taylor has a wild and crazy dream about traveling the country in a bus to reach people for God, Austin is considering a mixture of youth ministry and mission work, and I'm guessing here but I think Marcus is doing something pastoral. It was so cool just to see the number of people who stood up in the last evening session to say "I am going to be a Kingdom worker." and then those who said they would be going into full-time ministry. They asked us to go into the lobby so we could sign up for some information and the whole room was packed with teenagers who will be serving God in their communities.
I know for those of you who weren't there this post sounds rambly, but don't worry, here's my point:
Our group changed this week. We went into it knowing that when we came home our leader Chad would be leaving the church. For me, the whole week had a bittersweet taste because Chad has been such a HUGE part of my life the last six years or so. Before camp I was sincerely struggling with how to deal with youth group without him. He was the one who first told me I had leadership qualities. He has shaped me in ways I don't think I even totally understand right now. God has used him in my life and in the lives of every kid who walked through the doors of our youth room. And I didn't know how we could go on without him.
Now I know.
We are new. We are changed. It's our job now to take what we've learned and use it to change others. God has given us a gift and a unity so that we can make a difference in the lives of our friends.
It's time to do Something Bigger.
*Yes, for those of you who were at CIY, the line is actually "I am a new creation", but in the spirit of unity, I refocused it for my blog title*
Sunday, July 17, 2011
move
move.
Simple enough right? Just a verb. A preschool word even. But to me, it's about the most life-changing concept in the world.
The idea of move came to me when I started highschool, at a summer camp by the same name. (Of course most if not all of you who read this know about move, if you haven't been there yourself) At camp we talked about letting God move in our lives. Not because the Almighty needs our permission to do anything, but because he lets us have free will, we have to choose to work with him. Honestly, that first summer, move was just camp. It was just a shared experience. One that changed my life, but because of people, not because of God that summer. When I came back the next year, I saw how God had moved. I had been living in fear, sadness, and pain all of my freshman year, and when I opened my eyes and saw what God had been trying to teach me, it was... Beyond words. I gave up all the petty issues that were holding me down and said "Ok God. Move."
And he did. In bigger ways than I could understand at the time and even bigger than I can grasp now.
As I grew up a little bit, I learned more about move. Move is the way God speaks to me. Not that I hear him audibly very often, but it's those little moments when I'm struggling with a decision and I feel that little nudge in the right direction. Move.
It grew beyond just a week every summer. It is my life. Letting God move means that I live dangerously. It's awful and wonderful. Move is taking the risk and speaking my mind. Contrary to popular belief, I am not a people person. I'm afraid of people, afraid of getting hurt. I hate confrontation and arguments. I hate taking charge. I'm horribly uncomfortable when it comes to making choices. And God, being the all-knowing perfect Father that he is, has put me in a position where not only do I have opportunities to take a chance in these areas, but I am forced to. I've somehow become a "leader" in my youth group. Which means we as a leadership team are supposed to make newcomers feel welcome. I'd like to say that I'm getting better at it, and that people now find me warm and welcoming instead of awkward and abrupt. No. Two months ago I welcomed a girl to our youth group by saying "Hi, I heard you're a junior? Me too. Want a cheeseball?"
Not my proudest moment. Thankfully, the new girl stuck around to learn we aren't all socially awkward freaks at our church. It's just me.
Move has become the theme of my life, strangely enough. I hear the word all the time. On TV, in chapel, in class, in my friends' conversations, even this morning when my youth pastor told the church he would be leaving at the end of the month. And every time I do it's like God is whispering in my ear.
"Move. Move. Move."
I'm going back to move camp next week, and I think it may be my last summer there. Maybe not, but it looks that way at the moment. I can't express how much that simple statement that the people at CIY ministries decided to use has changed my life, the way I look at the world, the way I relate to people, the way I hear God. Move is my life. And I hope that doesn't change as my life moves forward.
Grace and peace, thanks for listening.
Simple enough right? Just a verb. A preschool word even. But to me, it's about the most life-changing concept in the world.
The idea of move came to me when I started highschool, at a summer camp by the same name. (Of course most if not all of you who read this know about move, if you haven't been there yourself) At camp we talked about letting God move in our lives. Not because the Almighty needs our permission to do anything, but because he lets us have free will, we have to choose to work with him. Honestly, that first summer, move was just camp. It was just a shared experience. One that changed my life, but because of people, not because of God that summer. When I came back the next year, I saw how God had moved. I had been living in fear, sadness, and pain all of my freshman year, and when I opened my eyes and saw what God had been trying to teach me, it was... Beyond words. I gave up all the petty issues that were holding me down and said "Ok God. Move."
And he did. In bigger ways than I could understand at the time and even bigger than I can grasp now.
As I grew up a little bit, I learned more about move. Move is the way God speaks to me. Not that I hear him audibly very often, but it's those little moments when I'm struggling with a decision and I feel that little nudge in the right direction. Move.
It grew beyond just a week every summer. It is my life. Letting God move means that I live dangerously. It's awful and wonderful. Move is taking the risk and speaking my mind. Contrary to popular belief, I am not a people person. I'm afraid of people, afraid of getting hurt. I hate confrontation and arguments. I hate taking charge. I'm horribly uncomfortable when it comes to making choices. And God, being the all-knowing perfect Father that he is, has put me in a position where not only do I have opportunities to take a chance in these areas, but I am forced to. I've somehow become a "leader" in my youth group. Which means we as a leadership team are supposed to make newcomers feel welcome. I'd like to say that I'm getting better at it, and that people now find me warm and welcoming instead of awkward and abrupt. No. Two months ago I welcomed a girl to our youth group by saying "Hi, I heard you're a junior? Me too. Want a cheeseball?"
Not my proudest moment. Thankfully, the new girl stuck around to learn we aren't all socially awkward freaks at our church. It's just me.
Move has become the theme of my life, strangely enough. I hear the word all the time. On TV, in chapel, in class, in my friends' conversations, even this morning when my youth pastor told the church he would be leaving at the end of the month. And every time I do it's like God is whispering in my ear.
"Move. Move. Move."
I'm going back to move camp next week, and I think it may be my last summer there. Maybe not, but it looks that way at the moment. I can't express how much that simple statement that the people at CIY ministries decided to use has changed my life, the way I look at the world, the way I relate to people, the way I hear God. Move is my life. And I hope that doesn't change as my life moves forward.
Grace and peace, thanks for listening.
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Scars
Scars always have stories, don't they? They're tales told through marred tissue. I don't have many myself; one on my elbow from teaching myself to ride a bike when I was 10, a number of small ovals on my legs from not paying attention while shaving, a new one I got this past week learning how to kneeboard when I faceplanted and somehow cut my stomach on the edge of the board, a prick from a needle when I was in preschool, a half moon on my wrist when my friend tripped me and I landed in an ant hill. None of these are interesting stories, I know, but most people have fun or scary stories behind their scars, don't you?
Think about the moments before you got those physical scars. When your bike hit the rock and you lost control. When the branch swayed beneath you and you knew it wouldn't hold anymore. When the ball is speeding towards your face and you don't have time to duck. Did you think about what could happen next? Did you think about the scar it was going to leave?
Maybe that's why internal scars are so much more fascinating and important to me. Because the things that wound us emtionally scar our personalities. Me? I put so much stock in what other people saw in me that I could no longer find value in myself. Now I don't have close relationships with people until they prove that they like me for me. I wanted a guy that didn't even really know that I was there. It convinced me for a long time that no guy was ever going to like me more than just 'one of the guys'. I ran away from meaningful relationships for so long that now I cling to the ones I have. A little less dramatic, I misunderstood the directions when I went tubing for the first time in middle school, got dragged under water for several minutes, and now I'm scared to death of water recreation
Can you identify those before moments when it comes to emotional scars? Can you see the destruction before it happens? I think I'm learning that... I know my connections with select friends are going to hurt like none other when I go off to college and have to leave them behind. Not because I'm severing the ties, but because they mean so much to me that I'll be afraid to make new real friendships in college. I know my dependence on other people to make me feel better when I'm sad, scared, or lost will hurt me someday. And a hundred other little things that I know I do that are going to hurt me sometime.
But that's life, isn't it? Sometimes we jump in headfirst, because we can, because we're human. We know it's not safe, not right, not healthy for heaven's sake! But we do it anyway. We live our lifes with people, even though people hurt us. We take chances in life. We risk being shot down and just say what's in our hearts because sometimes it's worth it. Most of the time we get hurt. Most of the time we end up with a scar that means we learned our lesson. But sometimes... There's someone who loves our scars. Someone who accepts them and loves you more for them.
That's why we do it. Because out of every hundred times you jump off the edge, there's that one time that someone catches you, that makes it worth the ninety nine scars you earned from taking the risks.
Think about the moments before you got those physical scars. When your bike hit the rock and you lost control. When the branch swayed beneath you and you knew it wouldn't hold anymore. When the ball is speeding towards your face and you don't have time to duck. Did you think about what could happen next? Did you think about the scar it was going to leave?
Maybe that's why internal scars are so much more fascinating and important to me. Because the things that wound us emtionally scar our personalities. Me? I put so much stock in what other people saw in me that I could no longer find value in myself. Now I don't have close relationships with people until they prove that they like me for me. I wanted a guy that didn't even really know that I was there. It convinced me for a long time that no guy was ever going to like me more than just 'one of the guys'. I ran away from meaningful relationships for so long that now I cling to the ones I have. A little less dramatic, I misunderstood the directions when I went tubing for the first time in middle school, got dragged under water for several minutes, and now I'm scared to death of water recreation
Can you identify those before moments when it comes to emotional scars? Can you see the destruction before it happens? I think I'm learning that... I know my connections with select friends are going to hurt like none other when I go off to college and have to leave them behind. Not because I'm severing the ties, but because they mean so much to me that I'll be afraid to make new real friendships in college. I know my dependence on other people to make me feel better when I'm sad, scared, or lost will hurt me someday. And a hundred other little things that I know I do that are going to hurt me sometime.
But that's life, isn't it? Sometimes we jump in headfirst, because we can, because we're human. We know it's not safe, not right, not healthy for heaven's sake! But we do it anyway. We live our lifes with people, even though people hurt us. We take chances in life. We risk being shot down and just say what's in our hearts because sometimes it's worth it. Most of the time we get hurt. Most of the time we end up with a scar that means we learned our lesson. But sometimes... There's someone who loves our scars. Someone who accepts them and loves you more for them.
That's why we do it. Because out of every hundred times you jump off the edge, there's that one time that someone catches you, that makes it worth the ninety nine scars you earned from taking the risks.
Friday, July 8, 2011
Love...
Love is when they spit on you, turn you away, laugh in your face, ignore you, insult you, and you still look at them and say "You still mean the world to me."
I wondered once at an unfortunate conversation with a friend from school. She was going through an incredibly tough thing, one of those things that forever affects your life and the way you look at the world. I remember spouting a few cliche comments about things getting better, God has control, His plan is the best one, and all of that, but at least in my mind it all sounded hollow. I really felt no sympathy for her or her situation. I desperately wanted to! I wanted to feel for her, but all I felt was guilty as I walked away from her. Upon reflection, I recalled how another friend came to me with a problem. That time, however, it was a boy from church instead of a girl from school. His problem was difficult, but not so much as my girl friend. He I cried for, spent hours talking to and praying for. I still ache inside thinking about the pain and frustration in his voice when he spilled his heart out to me..
Why?
Why did I feel for him and not for her? I talked through the confusion with my mother, and she just said:
"Because you love him."
No, not romantically, not in the slightest. But yes, I realized, it was because I love him. He's my brother, we have a strong bond in shared experience in Christ. Not to say that my girl friend and I don't share the bond of Christ, because we do, but up to this point it's all just knowledge on that front. Figuratively speaking, there's no blood bonding us yet. But this friend, this brother, even when he makes a bad decision, or does something stupid, or blows me off, he's my brother and I love him. And that's why when my girl friend came to me I didn't have anything to offer, there was nothing invested there. Because as much as I wanted to care about her hurt, those feelings don't come naturally like they do when one of my brothers comes to me.
Because as much as I CARE, I did not LOVE.
*And here's the disclaimer. This point has nothing to do with the way people should treat each other. I know that the love I feel for my close brothers and sisters should not outweigh the love I should feel for everyone God has created. This is just something I'm working through, and I thought I would share it, on the off chance that someone else might learn from me and my mistakes*
I wondered once at an unfortunate conversation with a friend from school. She was going through an incredibly tough thing, one of those things that forever affects your life and the way you look at the world. I remember spouting a few cliche comments about things getting better, God has control, His plan is the best one, and all of that, but at least in my mind it all sounded hollow. I really felt no sympathy for her or her situation. I desperately wanted to! I wanted to feel for her, but all I felt was guilty as I walked away from her. Upon reflection, I recalled how another friend came to me with a problem. That time, however, it was a boy from church instead of a girl from school. His problem was difficult, but not so much as my girl friend. He I cried for, spent hours talking to and praying for. I still ache inside thinking about the pain and frustration in his voice when he spilled his heart out to me..
Why?
Why did I feel for him and not for her? I talked through the confusion with my mother, and she just said:
"Because you love him."
No, not romantically, not in the slightest. But yes, I realized, it was because I love him. He's my brother, we have a strong bond in shared experience in Christ. Not to say that my girl friend and I don't share the bond of Christ, because we do, but up to this point it's all just knowledge on that front. Figuratively speaking, there's no blood bonding us yet. But this friend, this brother, even when he makes a bad decision, or does something stupid, or blows me off, he's my brother and I love him. And that's why when my girl friend came to me I didn't have anything to offer, there was nothing invested there. Because as much as I wanted to care about her hurt, those feelings don't come naturally like they do when one of my brothers comes to me.
Because as much as I CARE, I did not LOVE.
*And here's the disclaimer. This point has nothing to do with the way people should treat each other. I know that the love I feel for my close brothers and sisters should not outweigh the love I should feel for everyone God has created. This is just something I'm working through, and I thought I would share it, on the off chance that someone else might learn from me and my mistakes*
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Far Too Fleeting
It's been too long my blog friends... Too long. I had a few rather unpleasant experiences that made me not want to blog anymore, that also made me not want to do a lot of things, but what would life be if I gave up on fun learning experiences just because I got vaguely annoyed? Dumb! That's what it would be! And here is the actual post:
With the school year ending, summer beginning, and so many dear friends graduating and leaving for college, it seems natural that I've been reflecting on how fleeting high school really is. Maybe it's just because I'm in high school, but it seems as though so many movies, songs, magazines, and books are focused on these four years. I know I spent a large part of late elementary and junior high just waiting to be in high school. Then as soon as I got here, it's like it went by in a second. I clearly remember jumping into my best friend's pool with my best friends yelling "High school here we come!" (which we stole from a movie, yes. We were 14, what do you expect?) the summer before freshman year. I'm about to be a senior. How did this happen?
I had a very clear picture then, of how highschool would be for me. I planned on, and was excited to be, a geeky theater kid with dorky friends. I was going to be invisible. I wasn't going to date. I'd have a few friends, but not many. Shockingly enough, that's not the case. Things changed. I changed. God changed me. I'm thankful for it. I have tons of friends, from different backgrounds, schools, belief systems, and ages. I have a boyfriend. I'd rather go to a concert with a mob of friends than have a slumber party and watch musicals (which was what I expected I'd be doing.) How crazy is it that God can so drastically change my life and my personality from what I thought I would be to what I am now.
Which brought me to thinking about how much different will things be in another three years. When I'm a sophomore in college? Will I be studying music like I plan on doing? Will I still like bad scifi movies and techno music? Will my brother and I still be the best of friends? Who will my friends be? What's going to happen to all these relationships I've spent years building when I go off to college? I have one summer, one school year left. How will I spend it?
And here's my point. What will I do with this? My last summer, my senior year. What's it going to be worth, in the end? I could spend it partying with friends, having the time of my life. I could blow off my last year and skate through all my classes. I could. But when I look back on it, this last leg of childhood (because that's what it is, really), what do I want to see? A year of parties that I'll barely remember? Or a year of ministry? There's a lot I could do in a summer. In a year. People I can influence, people who can influence me, lessons to learn, lessons to teach, friends and family to love with all my heart.
So I guess the question is... What are you going to do with high school? What's the time worth to you?
With the school year ending, summer beginning, and so many dear friends graduating and leaving for college, it seems natural that I've been reflecting on how fleeting high school really is. Maybe it's just because I'm in high school, but it seems as though so many movies, songs, magazines, and books are focused on these four years. I know I spent a large part of late elementary and junior high just waiting to be in high school. Then as soon as I got here, it's like it went by in a second. I clearly remember jumping into my best friend's pool with my best friends yelling "High school here we come!" (which we stole from a movie, yes. We were 14, what do you expect?) the summer before freshman year. I'm about to be a senior. How did this happen?
I had a very clear picture then, of how highschool would be for me. I planned on, and was excited to be, a geeky theater kid with dorky friends. I was going to be invisible. I wasn't going to date. I'd have a few friends, but not many. Shockingly enough, that's not the case. Things changed. I changed. God changed me. I'm thankful for it. I have tons of friends, from different backgrounds, schools, belief systems, and ages. I have a boyfriend. I'd rather go to a concert with a mob of friends than have a slumber party and watch musicals (which was what I expected I'd be doing.) How crazy is it that God can so drastically change my life and my personality from what I thought I would be to what I am now.
Which brought me to thinking about how much different will things be in another three years. When I'm a sophomore in college? Will I be studying music like I plan on doing? Will I still like bad scifi movies and techno music? Will my brother and I still be the best of friends? Who will my friends be? What's going to happen to all these relationships I've spent years building when I go off to college? I have one summer, one school year left. How will I spend it?
And here's my point. What will I do with this? My last summer, my senior year. What's it going to be worth, in the end? I could spend it partying with friends, having the time of my life. I could blow off my last year and skate through all my classes. I could. But when I look back on it, this last leg of childhood (because that's what it is, really), what do I want to see? A year of parties that I'll barely remember? Or a year of ministry? There's a lot I could do in a summer. In a year. People I can influence, people who can influence me, lessons to learn, lessons to teach, friends and family to love with all my heart.
So I guess the question is... What are you going to do with high school? What's the time worth to you?
Saturday, May 7, 2011
LOVE WAR REBELLION
I'm sick of the teenage Christian mold. Who decided that because I'm under twenty and live in the Bible belt that I'm deluded and brainwashed? I'm ready for my generation of Christian people who aren't going to sit around and let the world run us over! We are not just spineless children who have been force fed a weak outdated faith. We are warriors! We are men and women of a Holy God! We will NOT be quiet, we will NOT sit down, we will NOT be pushed around, we will NOT be swayed, we will NOT let the world change us, because we are going to change the world!!! We are an army, and one to be reckoned with! We are trained, we are fighters, we are fired up and ready for war, ready to win! I'm sick of this weak Christianity that says you can believe whatever you want, just fill the pew and you'll be fine. No more!
The world had better be ready for my generation. Because if we stand up and stop taking crap from the world, they aren't gonna know what hit them.
LOVE for the King
WAR against the Evil One
REBELLION against the ways of the world
The world had better be ready for my generation. Because if we stand up and stop taking crap from the world, they aren't gonna know what hit them.
LOVE for the King
WAR against the Evil One
REBELLION against the ways of the world
Ultimate BFF
Best friends.
In highschool, it's a big deal. Who your best friend defines you in some way, small or significant. In the last few years, I've had several "best friends". Most of the friendships faded out, for some reason on my part, boredom or annoyance.
Now I'm "bff-less" and it's been on my mind. I've got plenty of friends don't get me wrong. But what makes someone my 'best friend'? The person I'm most comfortable with? John. The person who knows me best? Carter. The person who's known me the longest? LeClaire. The person who always gets what I'm saying? Erika. The person who always makes me laugh? Liz. The person who makes me smile when I'm ticked off at the world? Cameron.
Doesn't a best friend need to be all these things? I puzzled over the thought for awhile, listing off names and qualities in my mind until it occured to me that none of them, as much as I love them each dearly, fufills all my requirements. Who does? No one on Earth.
But my heavenly Father does. He makes me feel safe when the world is falling apart in front of my eyes. He knows every little thing there is to know about me. He knew me before I existed. He understands my quirks and mistakes. He brightens my worst days. He shows me the light at the end of a horrific day.
He's the perfect best friend.
In highschool, it's a big deal. Who your best friend defines you in some way, small or significant. In the last few years, I've had several "best friends". Most of the friendships faded out, for some reason on my part, boredom or annoyance.
Now I'm "bff-less" and it's been on my mind. I've got plenty of friends don't get me wrong. But what makes someone my 'best friend'? The person I'm most comfortable with? John. The person who knows me best? Carter. The person who's known me the longest? LeClaire. The person who always gets what I'm saying? Erika. The person who always makes me laugh? Liz. The person who makes me smile when I'm ticked off at the world? Cameron.
Doesn't a best friend need to be all these things? I puzzled over the thought for awhile, listing off names and qualities in my mind until it occured to me that none of them, as much as I love them each dearly, fufills all my requirements. Who does? No one on Earth.
But my heavenly Father does. He makes me feel safe when the world is falling apart in front of my eyes. He knows every little thing there is to know about me. He knew me before I existed. He understands my quirks and mistakes. He brightens my worst days. He shows me the light at the end of a horrific day.
He's the perfect best friend.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Eggs
I've put off writing a new post until I had time to sit down and think about it, but I'm feeling spontaneous.
In youth group last weekend we talked about the vine and the branches, how without Christ we are dead and can do no real good works. We are fodder for the fire, kindling for the flame of the world. But with Christ we are fruit bearing trees, bringing glory and honor to His name. My youth pastor used an illustration of an Easter egg inside an Easter egg inside an Easter egg ( yes, you counted right. Three eggs ). We are to be in Christ and Christ is to be in us so that we are not even seen through the glory that is our God. I'd seen similar illustrations before, but then my leader wrapped his hands around the egg, twining his fingers together.
"Not only are to to be in Christ and filled with Him," he said, "but you are to be surrounded by fellow believers and live together with them."
How true is that? We become so concerned with filling ourselves with Christ (or at least looking that way) that we forget a crucial thing. Christians - people in general - were not made to struggle alone. Our hurt, our pain, our joy, our ecstasy, our sorrow, were meant to shared with our brothers and sisters, embraced by them.
But this community cannot happen apart from Christ. That is easy to forget. When we stray from the Father, we begin to doubt.
Is this real?
Do these people really care?
Do I trust them?
Will they reject me?
It's easy to fall from the path, to think we can have community without God at the center. But then the community is hollow, it has no purpose, no meaning, no LIFE. And without community, we struggle to remain with God, we fall apart from Him.
It is difficult to be with God without community. It is IMPOSSIBLE to have community without God.
Grace and peace, thanks for listening
In youth group last weekend we talked about the vine and the branches, how without Christ we are dead and can do no real good works. We are fodder for the fire, kindling for the flame of the world. But with Christ we are fruit bearing trees, bringing glory and honor to His name. My youth pastor used an illustration of an Easter egg inside an Easter egg inside an Easter egg ( yes, you counted right. Three eggs ). We are to be in Christ and Christ is to be in us so that we are not even seen through the glory that is our God. I'd seen similar illustrations before, but then my leader wrapped his hands around the egg, twining his fingers together.
"Not only are to to be in Christ and filled with Him," he said, "but you are to be surrounded by fellow believers and live together with them."
How true is that? We become so concerned with filling ourselves with Christ (or at least looking that way) that we forget a crucial thing. Christians - people in general - were not made to struggle alone. Our hurt, our pain, our joy, our ecstasy, our sorrow, were meant to shared with our brothers and sisters, embraced by them.
But this community cannot happen apart from Christ. That is easy to forget. When we stray from the Father, we begin to doubt.
Is this real?
Do these people really care?
Do I trust them?
Will they reject me?
It's easy to fall from the path, to think we can have community without God at the center. But then the community is hollow, it has no purpose, no meaning, no LIFE. And without community, we struggle to remain with God, we fall apart from Him.
It is difficult to be with God without community. It is IMPOSSIBLE to have community without God.
Grace and peace, thanks for listening
Monday, April 11, 2011
A Short Post
Forgive me those-of-you-who-actually-read-this-dumb-thing, for not posting anything new in many weeks. Usually I would say I was just lacking inspiration, but actually the opposite is true. I've been overflowing with ideas about things I would like to share with you all. The validity of healing and prophesying in the church today, election and predestination, Biblical standards of beauty (if they exist ;)), and discussion and worship in the Acts church. (Most of which were also topics of discussion in my highschool Theology class, by the by) But alas, I just haven't had the time! So if you keep looking, I should have a legitimate new post soon, if life doesn't eat of all of my time. (Because really, living life is more fun than blogging about it.)
(I'm sorry Blogspot.)
Grace and peace to you
M
(I'm sorry Blogspot.)
Grace and peace to you
M
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Church Needs Rebellion
Rebellion.
The word has a bad connotation, am I right? Rebellion is for teenagers who are spoiled and have an overinflated sense of entitlement. Rebellious kids are a problem, one that parents so desprately want to fix. And so many times, the 'fix', is church. But you see there's a problem with that.
Because the church is a rebellious movement.
The church as it was designed is a planet-wide spiritual rebellion against the world. We are meant to stand apart from this crowded world of consumer culture, blatant sin, and self indulging attitudes. We are meant to stand out for the cause of Christ, for the salvation of souls, for the spread of the news that is beyond all earthly comprehension.
But do we?
Is the church really a rebellion today? It certainly started out as one. In the earliest parts of church history it was a small group (although growing quickly) that was openly opposing the teachings of the Roman world and Jewish culture. They were teaching in the streets at being killed and imprisoned for it. They were the epitome of rebellion! Then when the church grew stagnant, there was another rebellion, the Reformation. Once again, radical rebellious Christians were prosecuted for not laying down and letting the wrongs of the world roll over them.
Look at the world today. Look at the church. I think that a few rebellious teenagers may be exactly what we need.
The word has a bad connotation, am I right? Rebellion is for teenagers who are spoiled and have an overinflated sense of entitlement. Rebellious kids are a problem, one that parents so desprately want to fix. And so many times, the 'fix', is church. But you see there's a problem with that.
Because the church is a rebellious movement.
The church as it was designed is a planet-wide spiritual rebellion against the world. We are meant to stand apart from this crowded world of consumer culture, blatant sin, and self indulging attitudes. We are meant to stand out for the cause of Christ, for the salvation of souls, for the spread of the news that is beyond all earthly comprehension.
But do we?
Is the church really a rebellion today? It certainly started out as one. In the earliest parts of church history it was a small group (although growing quickly) that was openly opposing the teachings of the Roman world and Jewish culture. They were teaching in the streets at being killed and imprisoned for it. They were the epitome of rebellion! Then when the church grew stagnant, there was another rebellion, the Reformation. Once again, radical rebellious Christians were prosecuted for not laying down and letting the wrongs of the world roll over them.
Look at the world today. Look at the church. I think that a few rebellious teenagers may be exactly what we need.
Monday, February 28, 2011
Serving In A Saved World
Witnessing.
Evangelism.
Sharing your faith.
We in the church call the spreading of the Gospel many things. We take classes on it, write books, theorize about the perfect methods, and preach about it's importance. Having grown up in the church, gone to Christian school, and been involved heavily in youth group, I know a lot more than it feels like I need when it comes to sharing my faith. Because I don't have anywhere to put it into action. Sure, sure, I could preach on street corners or hand out tracts in a mall, but that's not what I mean. I know plenty about how to share God with my friends and family through my words, actions, and morals, but no family or friends to share Him with.
When my youth pastor challenged us to pray continously for an unsaved friend, I drew a blank for the longest time. Finally, I scribbled down a name on my card. The name was a guy I only sort of know. He dated a friend of mine, not even a close friend, for a few months a year or two ago, and added me on Facebook out of the blue. His posts and status updates weigh on my heart, despite the fact I have absolutely no connection to this guy. So I took the challenge, and I've been praying for him daily, but the next part of the challenge is to be a good friend to them. We aren't even friends. I haven't spoken to him since he broke up with my friend, unless you count a chance meeting in Wal-Mart and a pleasant hello. How do I be a friend to someone I don't even know? The puzzle continues, because the next part of the challenge is just to ask "Do you ever think about God?" I could ask a friend that. I could ask a family member that. But this guy? I don't know how to even breach the topic. So now what.
Church has prepared me to live in an unsaved world, but how do I minister to a saved one?
Evangelism.
Sharing your faith.
We in the church call the spreading of the Gospel many things. We take classes on it, write books, theorize about the perfect methods, and preach about it's importance. Having grown up in the church, gone to Christian school, and been involved heavily in youth group, I know a lot more than it feels like I need when it comes to sharing my faith. Because I don't have anywhere to put it into action. Sure, sure, I could preach on street corners or hand out tracts in a mall, but that's not what I mean. I know plenty about how to share God with my friends and family through my words, actions, and morals, but no family or friends to share Him with.
When my youth pastor challenged us to pray continously for an unsaved friend, I drew a blank for the longest time. Finally, I scribbled down a name on my card. The name was a guy I only sort of know. He dated a friend of mine, not even a close friend, for a few months a year or two ago, and added me on Facebook out of the blue. His posts and status updates weigh on my heart, despite the fact I have absolutely no connection to this guy. So I took the challenge, and I've been praying for him daily, but the next part of the challenge is to be a good friend to them. We aren't even friends. I haven't spoken to him since he broke up with my friend, unless you count a chance meeting in Wal-Mart and a pleasant hello. How do I be a friend to someone I don't even know? The puzzle continues, because the next part of the challenge is just to ask "Do you ever think about God?" I could ask a friend that. I could ask a family member that. But this guy? I don't know how to even breach the topic. So now what.
Church has prepared me to live in an unsaved world, but how do I minister to a saved one?
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Snow Days
I'm going to talk about snow days.
Think back to the first time you remember school cancelling for snow. You were probably in elementary school, and the news was just about the best thing you could imagine. Your mom bundled up you and whatever assorted siblings you have and sent you out in the elements to play. You built snow forts and snow men, made snow balls and snow angels, got snow in your clothes and turned icicles into deadly weapons. And when you were done, Mom brought you all in, got you out of dripping clothes, and made hot chocolate to thaw your red and stinging faces.
It's a wonderful memory, a greeting card sweet piece of childhood freedom. But what are snow days now?
You sleep in late, then crawl out of bed to lounge on the couch watching tv or a movie, eating junk food. Or maybe you call up friends and spend the day out, because despite the fact the roads are too bad for school, nothing is too treacherous to keep teenagers from having a good time. After the first few snow days of the year, everyone's Facebook pages are littered with complaints.
"Come on, not another snow day!"
"They're taking away our summer!"
"It's not even that bad out..."
"This is getting out of hand..."
Somewhere along the line, snow days have turned from wonderful, magical days of carefree fun into irritating days we don't quite know how to fill. When did that happen?
Thanks for listening
M (//_^)
Think back to the first time you remember school cancelling for snow. You were probably in elementary school, and the news was just about the best thing you could imagine. Your mom bundled up you and whatever assorted siblings you have and sent you out in the elements to play. You built snow forts and snow men, made snow balls and snow angels, got snow in your clothes and turned icicles into deadly weapons. And when you were done, Mom brought you all in, got you out of dripping clothes, and made hot chocolate to thaw your red and stinging faces.
It's a wonderful memory, a greeting card sweet piece of childhood freedom. But what are snow days now?
You sleep in late, then crawl out of bed to lounge on the couch watching tv or a movie, eating junk food. Or maybe you call up friends and spend the day out, because despite the fact the roads are too bad for school, nothing is too treacherous to keep teenagers from having a good time. After the first few snow days of the year, everyone's Facebook pages are littered with complaints.
"Come on, not another snow day!"
"They're taking away our summer!"
"It's not even that bad out..."
"This is getting out of hand..."
Somewhere along the line, snow days have turned from wonderful, magical days of carefree fun into irritating days we don't quite know how to fill. When did that happen?
Thanks for listening
M (//_^)
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Sitting
My mom pointed out to me the other day that I often sit in unusual places.
It's true. When people come to visit I normally choose to sit perched on the back or arm of the sofa like a gargoyle instead of on the seat like everyone else. I climb on the counters and sit Indian style while Mom makes dinner. I lean back on my heels and balance my wieght on my toes when I go to get on the computer and stay that way until my feet go numb. In our old house I would pry open the window and squeeze myself into the narrow ledge to watch the trees and flowers in the wind.
When Mom pointed out this weird little habit, I just kind of laughed it off, but it became one of those little nagging thoughts that just wouldn't go away. Why did I do that? Most things have an explanation, and I think I found mine.
I miss being a kid. Not necessarily a little kid. I have no desire to go back through potty training and preschool. But just a kid. I could be a little weird and silly and say stupid things and do something just because I felt like it, and it didn't really matter. I had a wild imagination and an imaginary friend. I lived without thinking. I read books without analyzing their literary value. I heard music without pulling apart the chords, dynamics, and lyrics. I trusted that God and my parents would make everything in my life perfect. I was happy. Not gloriously happy or overly joyful. I was simply, happy. Happy because my life was easy and complete.
Now I'm 16. My life is great. I understand not every part of my life has to be perfect for me to be happy. I am aware that I have everything I need. I have fantastic parents, wonderful siblings, good friends, a great 'second family', and above all, an indescribable God who is doing unimaginable things in my life at the moment. But even with all of that, being aware of how great things are, makes me scared that they won't always be that way. I'm scared that I'll leave for college and I'll have chosen the wrong path. I'm scared that my friends will drift away. I'm scared that I'll leave and both my real siblings and my youth group brothers and sisters will grow up without me, that they won't need me anymore. I'm scared that deciding what I want and feeling that God has it planned for me will lead me dangerously astray.
I'm just scared.
And so I sit. Because it reminds me of being younger and uncomplicated and ready for life. Because it almost feels like I can be a kid again, for a minute. Because for that minute, I'm not quite as scared.
Thanks for listening.
It's true. When people come to visit I normally choose to sit perched on the back or arm of the sofa like a gargoyle instead of on the seat like everyone else. I climb on the counters and sit Indian style while Mom makes dinner. I lean back on my heels and balance my wieght on my toes when I go to get on the computer and stay that way until my feet go numb. In our old house I would pry open the window and squeeze myself into the narrow ledge to watch the trees and flowers in the wind.
When Mom pointed out this weird little habit, I just kind of laughed it off, but it became one of those little nagging thoughts that just wouldn't go away. Why did I do that? Most things have an explanation, and I think I found mine.
I miss being a kid. Not necessarily a little kid. I have no desire to go back through potty training and preschool. But just a kid. I could be a little weird and silly and say stupid things and do something just because I felt like it, and it didn't really matter. I had a wild imagination and an imaginary friend. I lived without thinking. I read books without analyzing their literary value. I heard music without pulling apart the chords, dynamics, and lyrics. I trusted that God and my parents would make everything in my life perfect. I was happy. Not gloriously happy or overly joyful. I was simply, happy. Happy because my life was easy and complete.
Now I'm 16. My life is great. I understand not every part of my life has to be perfect for me to be happy. I am aware that I have everything I need. I have fantastic parents, wonderful siblings, good friends, a great 'second family', and above all, an indescribable God who is doing unimaginable things in my life at the moment. But even with all of that, being aware of how great things are, makes me scared that they won't always be that way. I'm scared that I'll leave for college and I'll have chosen the wrong path. I'm scared that my friends will drift away. I'm scared that I'll leave and both my real siblings and my youth group brothers and sisters will grow up without me, that they won't need me anymore. I'm scared that deciding what I want and feeling that God has it planned for me will lead me dangerously astray.
I'm just scared.
And so I sit. Because it reminds me of being younger and uncomplicated and ready for life. Because it almost feels like I can be a kid again, for a minute. Because for that minute, I'm not quite as scared.
Thanks for listening.
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