I want.....I don't know what I want.

I'm still hanging out in the grand state of Arkansas at my grandma's house.

It's been fun, but I'm starting to think about going home. I like home. I miss home.

I left my life in a mess when I left home. That's one of the reasons I'm eager to get back. To clean it up a little bit. My bedroom was turned upside down, with my furniture all over the place, my stuff strewn anywhere and everywhere, and a little too much dirt on the floor. Academically, I stumbled my way through finals, then got out of Dodge the next day and didn't look back. School is going to be starting again before I know it, and I'd like to re-organize myself and be better prepared than I was last semester.

Other than that, I'm still looking forward to some real time off. It's fun to visit family and friends and not think about reading a book or writing papers while doing so, but the only thing that counts as a real break for me is to be at home with no obligations and plenty of alone time. With only two weeks before school starts, I'm running out of opportunities.

Earlier today, I was dead set on leaving early Saturday. We could make it home before it got late(which is something we never do), and we'd be able to go to our own church the next day. (I also miss my church. Not just my house.) But then I started thinking about the people I haven't seen yet whom I dearly want to be able to spend some time with. And I started to think that I might not want to leave Saturday.

It's funny how eager I am to get home and retreat to my bedroom, and yet I'm hesitant to go just yet in favor of being social. So it goes.

So rather than just planning for when I'm headed home like I was earlier, I am now trying to see who is free when, what my brothers think about what they want to do, and then we'll see how that all works together and decide what to do about going home from there.

The content of this post is evidence of how easily my mind is swayed.

Sweet dreams.

I am growing tired of dreaming. The kind I do in my sleep, that is.

I wake up most mornings remembering a dream I just had during the night. For a time a few years ago I would write down my dreams every day. Most of them were just pretty insane, but sometimes bad things would happen. Occasionally something that could be considered good.

I still write a dream down from time to time, but there are usually several months between entries. My dreaming is still mostly insane, but along with that, it is also mostly bad. Calamity, death, murder, sickness, hatred: these are the kinds of things that have become common in my nightly dreaming.

Why is this the case? That's one of the first questions I ask myself nearly every day. At this point in my life, I regulate the things I watch, as well as everything I listen to and read and talk about, more stringently than I ever have before. And that's not to say that I ever made a habit of watching gory movies with people dying every five minutes, nor that I've become so strict that I can't watch anything that's not rated G, but I do think it's important to be conscious of and careful with what you're allowing yourself to spend your time and energy on. So I intake far fewer things than I once did that would be influencing me to think about all those things in my sleep. So again, where is this all coming from?

Whatever is causing it, I'd like for it to discontinue. Ideally, it would be nice to start dreaming about good things again, or at least anything not bad. The notorious insanity of my dreams, when it is sans calamity, was always rather entertaining. But if I can't dream without somebody dying or being hateful every night, then I would rather not dream at all.

I tend to blame my increased busyness for my lack of recording my dreams, and it is certainly a factor. But I think this is the more overwhelming reason. It gets old writing about trouble all the time, and most days I wake up and want to forget what my mind had just concocted while I was snoozing.

I am now off to further contemplate this as I get ready for bed. Here's to a dreamless night.

"Missing you feels like a way of life."

I consistently wonder at how much I have changed in my 21 years, 7 months, and 8 days.

One of the more recent developments that I never would have imagined would be the case many years ago is how much I have grown to crave being with people. It's actually become quite bad. Lately, I've been feeling like there's something wrong all the time. Which was terribly distracting as I was trying to finish up my classes at the end of this last semester, because when I don't feel right, I can't focus on anything.

It's not just people in general whose company I am craving. (Although something else that I've noticed about myself is how much more willing I am to talk to people I don't know and how easily it comes to me.) It's certain people. People I know. Some more than others. Generally, the better relationship I have with a person, the more I feel like I want to be around them. Which makes sense. The biggest trouble with that is, I know people who live all over the place. Mainly the continental U.S. So I spend a lot of my time missing people.

Anybody who has read my blog for a while, or watched me closely during movies, or church events, or any other situation with any sentiment, can probably guess what all of this missing of people translates into. A lot of tears. A lot of quiet ones. It doesn't make me sob. Just a few leak out on various occasions.

Despite this, I am still very much the introvert. So much so that it's painful sometimes. So I don't really know how in the world I can balance these things. I can't be with people and be alone at the same time. I guess if I ever figure out how that could work, my problems will be solved.

For the time being, I'm solving (partially, because I can't be with everyone at once) the problem of missing people. I'm in Arkansas for Christmas, and will be and have already been spending time with lots of family that I don't get to see very often. And tomorrow I will be seeing my best friend as I help her and her mom and sister move. I anticipate that my car will be loaded down with boxes all day, and that I will be lifting lots of heavy things. I also anticipate that I will enjoy every minute. Who knows who else I might get to see while I'm here. There are too many people to cover all in one trip, but I hope I can see as many as possible.

Humanity

Can I be human for a minute? And not cause anyone to flip out, or think that I'm falling into a fit of depression?

I need to just talk for a little bit. Listen if you will.

I am tired. Like really. But not as tired as I was a few days ago. My classes have ended, and these last few days have done wonders for my well-being. But I'm still tired. And I still have finals this week. I have no focus. I can't think. Every time I try to use my brain, I fall asleep. It's frustrating. Yet, no matter how hard it is to stay awake during the day, I still manage to come alive after it gets dark outside, and stay awake long enough to usher in the next day. I like the sun. So why do I never seem to be alive enough to appreciate it while I can see it?

Speaking of not having focus or the ability to think, doing my homework has been a monumental chore. Sleeping when you're supposed to be working is not ideal. It is one of the many factors that led to me consistently doing my homework the night before, cramming for a quiz out in the hallway right before class, focusing in on a speech topic and writing that speech the day before I had to give it, and the two paper writing marathons that came at the end of the semester, one of which led to my very first all-nighter.

Another contributing factor is my life otherwise. I absolutely refuse to disconnect from the world around me. Some people do that, and more power to them, but I can't. I need to draw from different areas of my life in order to gain the inspiration and motivation needed to not get burnt out in my academic ventures. Also, I can't ignore people. There are a lot of people in my life, and I feel like I neglect them too much as it is. It would be a severe betrayal of who I am to ignore everybody.

Why can't I ignore everybody? People need so much. Time, attention, assistance, care. I feel like I give and give even when there's nothing there to give. And still they need more. Why can't I say, "no?" Why do I continue pouring myself into someone's wants or needs even when I'm depleted and have a long list of my own needs that must be met now?

I have been told more than once that I seem to possess humility in larger than average amounts. People don't know what they're talking about. I have to consciously pull myself back countless times a day. Yes, maybe that person wasn't entirely nice to you, but you still need to be nice to them. And just as often, my life pushes me back for me. You see that person over there? You think you're good, but they just did that better than you. You're not all that and a bag of Wavy Lays. I feel so foolish every time this humility is forced on me, whether it's from an outside source or me forcing it on myself. And in those moments, an otherwise hard to embarrass person feels like hiding her face.

I can't handle everything. I can't handle anything. There are so many issues in my life and in others lives that need resolution. And I want them to be resolved so badly. But I can't even manage to floss my teeth every day.

I am feeling very, very human.




For once, there is no ray of light in this post. At least, not up to this point. It's there, and no matter how it may sound, I am not defeated or discouraged. I don't normally complain, because I don't normally feel all of this so strongly. But as I have indicated, I am human. And I need to unload junk sometimes and not feel like I have to close up with a tidy encouraging word of the day. I can see the encouragement. I know it's there. God and his Word have not left, and Truth still stands. But I can't reach for them. They're going to have to reach for me.

Thank you, God, that you reach for me.

To know and be made known.

Consider this a follow up to my last post. I was thinking about this when I was writing the last one, and but I felt it should be separate.

I find much joy in being able to say that I know people. Even if I've only met them one time and talked to them for about half a minute, or even if they're that person I see in class three times a week, whose name I know, and backpack I recognize, and yet never speak to, I still get some sort of thrill, even if it's a tiny one, from the fact that I know that person. And it comes out especially when I see them in an environment in which I'm not accustomed to seeing them, or if I ever hear someone talking about them. I think, "Hey! I know that person!"

Being known by someone is also rather exciting. It's nice to be able to walk up to a person and not have to explain who you are. They know already, so you can move on to other things.

If given the choice between the two, though, I'd rather know someone.

But to know someone means that they have to know you. At least to a degree. And how well you know a person will largely depend on how well they know you. Usually.

That's what relationships are, a mutual knowing.

I struggle with this. Like I said, I'd rather know people. And I relish every moment spent getting to know someone. I lap up information about a person as if to quench a deep thirst. And not just factual information, but also the look they get on their face when they're concentrating, or the tone their voice takes when they're nervous. But to let someone know me is more difficult. I don't know why, because I honestly don't try to foster a habit of keeping myself secret from other people. But it seems like I so consistently manage to leave people with the impression that I'm cryptic and trying to hide things. And thus I get in the way of being able to know someone better, because I won't let them know me better.

And this is another reason that Jesus is my greatest friend, because he knows me better than I could never know myself. So I am free to get to know him more and more every day.

What a friend I've found.

My mood today has been a reflective one. Among other things, but that's been one of the overwhelming ones.

I've been thinking a lot about relationships today. Mainly about my own, but also about relationships in general, as well as some specific ones that have nothing to with me. Friendships have been the focus of my relationship musings. As well as some that I don't know that I would classify as friendships, but it's more than the relationship you might have with the person who sits next to you in class three times a week that you know...kinda...but you never talk to. It hasn't quite reached friendship status, but it's a relationship that has a deep love at the center. I don't know what to call it...or how to describe it adequately.

My reflections today led to another incredibly sappy moment. I really can't think of a day in the recent past that has not contained at least one sappy moment, so I wouldn't know what to think of myself if I didn't feel sappy at least once a day, but this one was higher on the scale than usual. I was sitting in my car this morning before class. I had gotten there a little early, and decided to let the CD I was listening to finish out. I was listening to downhere's How Many Kings: Song For Christmas. I got to hear them perform several songs from that album last night, and so listening to that music made the memories even more fresh. It was a great night last night. It was on the next to the last song when I parked the car. And that song is such a great representation of them as a band. Their attitudes, and senses of humor. And so it was making me smile. And then the last song came on, and I started crying before the first 2 seconds could pass. It's really pretty, and I think it showcases their talent. But that's not really why I was crying so much.

That song is about Jesus. And out of all the friendships I have, his is the greatest one. And he is the reason I have all of the other great friendships that I do. The love I was feeling in that moment was so overwhelming. And so I was sitting in a car, in the middle of a huge parking lot at MTSU, at 8:30 in the morning, crying. Most people don't cry that early in the day, because the day hasn't gone on long enough for it to be awful. But that's the thing with me. More often, the reason I cry is because I'm happy. Rather than because I feel awful.

Today has been a very happy day.

Distraction

Here's what's on my mind right now....


Music. Big surprise there. Spend any amount of time with me, and even if you don't pick up on my obsession, I'm certain that you will at least gather that I like music. Or that I am musically inclined in some fashion. It's just such a big part of who I am, that, as cryptic as I may be most of the time, it can't stay hidden from other people's knowledge for long.

And just when I think it couldn't possibly consume more of my time, thoughts, and attention, I'm proven wrong. As time passes, it's increasingly all I want to do, listen to music, make music, study it. It's like an urgent need. And I also see it playing a larger role in my future more and more.

As I'm considering this, my analytical/critical self says, "It's just because you're under stress, and trying to distract yourself. You'd rather be singing than writing papers and studying for tests, and so you're avoiding what you don't want to do." She has a point. There's constantly something to do, and I spend a lot of my time trying to make sure that I stay my laid-back, relaxed self, and keep what little bit of a life I have. And if that means doing all of my homework the night before it's due, and turning in assignments that are less polished than what I am capable of producing in favor of spending time with my family and friends, and doing things that I enjoy, then so be it. For better or worse, I have chosen to not let academics take over my life completely.

Maybe that's irresponsible of me. Maybe I should have the attitude that if I'm going to do it at all, I should do my best, and devote myself completely. Maybe I should become a live-in at the library, say good-bye to people for a while, separate myself from the Internet unless I'm doing research, and stop participating in/letting myself be entertained by music. Because all of those things (save the library) really are distracting from school work. And why am I going to school, if I'm not going to be serious about it?

But I think I am serious about it. And taking those measures seems to be a bit extreme. Even though I have thought about them a lot. Because as much as I don't want to give up everything to academics, I also don't want to have things in my life that are nothing but distraction. I want to be committed to school. And I want what I do to have importance and purpose beyond postponing me having to think about how to tell you what I ate for dinner in German and how Transcendentalism applies to the works of Edgar Allan Poe. So if music is serving to be nothing but an appealing distraction, then I should look away.

But I honestly don't think that's all it is. I really believe that God has put it within me. And he's slowly showing me how it's supposed to fit into my life. That as well studying English. I'm still eagerly anticipating the day when it will all click, and I will finally be able to say, "Oh! That's why I went to school for four years and studied what I did." That day may not come until the day I die, but I'm keeping my eyes pealed.

As soon as school is behind me, perhaps I can further explore the world of music. For right now, I'm just praying for what I need to make it through the next three semesters. And this one, too. I have a big paper due Thursday, a presentation the following Monday, a speech the following Tuesday, and another big paper the following Wednesday. Not counting finals, which start the following Friday. Which brings up an excellent point. Why am I blogging?

The big, bad, scary Telephoneosaurus.

For those who don't know, I'm not fond of talking on the phone. It takes awkward conversations and magnifies the awkwardness.

But perhaps that's just a failing of my conversational skills. If I was a master verbal communicator then I could keep a conversation on the phone going and there would be much less chance of it getting awkward. In reality, the awkwardness isn't what bothers me so much. I have plenty of awkward face-to-face conversations, but when you're physically with someone, at least when there's a long silence you're still in each other's physical presence. While that may not do anything for some people, I kind of like just being around people whether we're talking or not. Perhaps that's just a quirk of my personality, but I really am fascinated by people. But when you're on the phone, after a few seconds of silence pass, you (or at least I) start to wonder, why are we listening to each other breathe? Listening to a person's breathing patterns can only tell you so much about them. I should find something else to say quick or start saying my good-byes.

Also, I can't read people on the phone. I get a lot from body language, and while tone of voice and breathing patterns say a lot, I feel lost if I can't see someone. This person's voice sounds kind of flat. Am I hearing them right? Are they bored? Having a bad day? Distracted? Wishing that I'd put them out of their misey by bidding them farewell and ending this awful experience, but being much too polite say so?

To reveal more of my insecurity, I often feel like I'm inconveniencing people when I call them. I don't know what's going on when they decide to answer the phone. It could be something important, and here I am interrupting them. And even if I'm not interrupting them, maybe they don't want to talk to me, but again are being too polite to say so.

However uncomfortable I may feel, I really don't like telling people that I don't like to talk on the phone, though. Even if I didn't tell you, it wouldn't be hard to figure out after you've known me a while, know I have your phone number, and notice that I haven't ever called you since our relationship started. But once I say it, that cements the idea. And I've noticed that some people who don't have any problems with phones otherwise, once they know that I don't like talking on the phone, feel bad about calling me. As if the fact that they called me would offend me, or something along those lines.

That in turn makes me feel bad, because I don't want to make people feel bad. Calling me is not an unforgivable crime, nor is it going to send me into a fit of hyperventilation. I don't choose to call other people very often, but never begrudge anyone who calls me. It won't kill me to be uncomfortable from time to time.

Thank God for the Internet, or I'd rarely talk to anyone.

"I panicked inside and decided to hide."

I've been thinking a lot lately about something I heard/read Jason Gray say recently.

I'm pretty sure it was him. I can't remember where it was. I am pretty certain I read it.

If I remember correctly, he was remembering a time in his life when he was struggling with the idea of growing in his relationship with God, because he knew that God's heart is for people, and if he becomes more like God, he'd have to serve people. I think that was the gist of it. And he didn't like that idea. Because people are draining. They're broken and messy and needy, and their problems are just too much.

I know what he means. I've noticed increasingly in myself recently this huge weight on my heart for people. I see things all the time that sadden me so much more than they did in the past. And I'm much more conscious of other people, picking up on little clues about they feel, and noticing subtleties of their personalities, and finding them all to be so fascinating. I can trace this turn back to a specific point in my life. A point that was quite revolutionary for me. A point....the point where I seriously jumped into this following/living with/getting to know Jesus thing. I didn't have enough foresight to know what all it would entail...or to even know the one detail that Jason noticed, even though all the evidence was leading to that conclusion.

And that's the way it should be. Otherwise there would be no room for faith. And I imagine we'd all run away and hide, because to know the full brevity of what we're getting ourselves into would overwhelm us. The people alone would do the job, I think. Because people really are messy. And very, very needy. And for someone like me, who thrives on secluding myself on a regular basis, the call to be out amongst my fellows, doing what I can to love them, can seem like a challenge I don't want to face.

But thankfully it's not my challenge to face. Not alone. God is the one that gives those people what they need. He just wants me, and everyone else, to get up and go, in his name, and he provides us with the strength and wisdom and whatever else may be required to give to those people. I see it happen in me all the time. Just when I think I can't do it, I end up leaving with a smile on my face, wondering, yet again, at the greatness of God. If we could keep this fact in perspective, God could probably lay everything that walking with him would entail out in front of us, and then we could get really excited about the incredible things he's going to do. But we can't ever seem to do that, so he wisely keeps things on a need-to-know basis. I don't usually like surprises, but his are exceptions.

Even if Jason Gray wasn't the one that said that, I'm certain someone did. I don't normally imagine things like that. Hopefully I'm giving credit to the right person. Because I was struck by that insight, and amused once again at us silly humans. Staying away from God because you're afraid of people is humorous. And sad at the same time.

Such is life.

Love is a must.

I spoke some challenging words in my speech class Thursday: "people must love other people." Together, in that order.

The latest assignment in my speech class was to give a persuasive speech. This was the one that I had not been looking forward to. I'm not the persuading type. I actually briefly thought of telling my classmates that in my speech and devoting the bulk of my speech to telling them the reasons why I think persuasion can be dangerous, and hopefully persuade them to see my point of view. But I only thought that for a minute. That would have been ridiculous.

Pushing the ridiculous out of my mind, I then started thinking about what, if anything, would I feel strongly enough about to attempt to persuade my audience of classmates. That was important for me to figure out. Even though it was an assignment, and the point was to deliver a persuasive speech, regardless of what the content was or what I personally felt about the subject, I couldn't comfortably stand up there and talk about something I didn't agree with, or even something largely benign that I didn't feel strongly about. I'm not good at faking sincerity. And since I only persuade in extreme cases, I had to dig deep inside and find what was at the core of myself.

And thus I was inspired to say to my classmates, "people must love other people." Because I really do believe that. And according to my professor, I made my case well. I introduced my speech with the Golden Rule. I pointed out that Jesus said those words, and yet there are people of all different cultural backgrounds with varying belief systems that use them as a behavioral guide. And then I shared how that idea supported one of the beliefs that I hold most dear, which is that we as people must love other people. And to show an example of one way which I have done than in my own life, I spent the majority of the remaining time talking about World Vision.

I had so many fears going into it, and more so while I was speaking. Being vulnerable is never easy, and I was essentially placing my heart out on display. In the minutes leading up to my speech, the predominating thought running through my mind was, "What in the world are you thinking?" Most people had topics like: drink more water; eat at home more; heavy metal music does not inherently lead to anger, depression, and violence; the United States should have a universal healthcare system; premium dog food is better for your dog than value brands; and so forth. Things that (mostly) do not challenge a person's beliefs or values. But here I come to tell them something that, if they put it into practice, will rock their worlds.

I was also afraid that I would come across as being manipulative. Even insincere. Although I said earlier that I'm not good at faking sincerity, one of my biggest concerns continually is that my sincerity won't be communicated and people will think I'm not genuine. Sincerity is very important to me. I shared that in my speech, right before I played a clip from a World Vision video. I told them how so much of the time I don't like videos and things of that nature, because all they are is manipulative, trying to make people feel guilty or hoodwink them in order for some person or organization to get some kind of benefit. There's little to no substance to them, but they're making good-hearted people believe there is. But I then told them that World Vision was an exception, because they really are helping real people, and so whenever I watch a World Vision video I don't roll my eyes, like I so often feel inclined to do. Even as I shared that, I wasn't sure whether it would help me or hurt me in establishing my sincerity.

And all this was accompanied by my usual anxieties in speaking in front of an audience. I was doing a lot of praying leading into it. But from all indications, it went well. I went way over the time limit, but my professor still gave me a 99. She made a lot of comments, and amongst them was "good emotional appeal." So, whatever anyone else may have thought, at least she didn't think I was coming on too strong. And it would seem that at least one person agreed, because as I was walking back to my seat, one of my classmates said, "That was good."

I thank God for giving me words. And for giving me boldness in stating what I believe is true. My nearly 9 minutes at the front of the class was all him. Because I wouldn't have gotten up there and said what I did if I didn't believe that that's his message that he's trying to communicate to the world.


By the way, I also had to give a presentation in German that same morning. So I was that much more stressed that day. But it turned out well also. For the third time this semester, I ended up singing in front my class, and this time it was captured on video! I was out of breath, but they still seemed to think that I had right to claim that I could sing. All in all, Thursday was a great day.

The Greatest Story Ever Sung: Part Three - I Will Follow Your Voice

Is this really only the third one of these I've done? I thought for sure I had done at least one more already. How time flies.

This song is anthemic, and I often claim it as my own anthem.

I Will Follow Your Voice
by: downhere

"I can hear the people
I hear the ideals they love
I can hear preachers that please other seekers
The message of heroes and proclamation of kings
I hear the messages
I hear the debate
I hear all the love songs
I hear all the promises
I hear music that dreamers create

I won't take advice from cynics
I won't listen to the word of fools
Sure, everyone has their own take
On what I should do, but...

I will follow your voice
I will follow your voice
I will trust your choice
I will not fear
I will follow your voice
I will follow your voice
Not my will, but yours
Be done here

I can hear the questions
The answers that breed doubt
The spiritual poison of hecklers and demons
Who whisper in corners, hoping for a sell-out
I can feel the pressure
To filter every word I say
To sit down in silence
Put up with injustice and turn the other way

I won't take advice from cynics
I won't listen to the word of fools
Sure, everyone has their own take
On what I should do, but...

I will follow your voice
I will follow your voice
I will trust your choice
I will not fear
I will follow your voice
I will follow your voice
Not my will, but yours
Be done here

I hear about a war
I lose with tragic force
I hear I'm going down
I'm headed for the ground
I hear I should panic
I should be afraid
I hear through all the noise
A still and steady voice say, "Wait."

With every channel on
We don't know where we belong
With every channel on
We don't know where we belong

Help me to hear your voice
Above all the other noise
Help me to hear your voice
Above all the other noise

I will follow your voice
I will follow your voice
I will trust your choice
I will not fear
I will follow your voice
I will follow your voice
Not my will but yours
Be done here.....down here"

I love that little "down here" at the end. :-)

I often need to claim the words of the chorus in this song, and the part that says, "Help me to hear your voice/Above all the other noise." I have so much coming at me all time. Humanity can get kind of overwhelming when you're surrounded by college students every day. Being a student in itself can be a pretty desperate condition, but its desperation is multiplied when the student is 18 - early-20-something, as are most. With everything going on in the world around me, I have to make a conscious effort to refocus and to pay attention to the voice that matters most, which is the voice of God. Which is why I read the Bible every day. And listen to music that contains scriptural concepts. And pray. And interact with other like-minded people, who are led by the Holy Spirit. And try to be still and quiet from time to time, in order to get rid of distractions, even well-intentioned ones.

Tomorrow is Monday....Lord, please help me to hear your voice.

Musings on a Saturday night.

I can't do anything halfway. Or if I do, I feel uneasy about it. I'd rather go all the way, or not waste my time.

This characteristic manifests itself in different ways. For instance, when I like something, I really like it. You regular readers have probably picked up on that. If I don't really like it, then I don't pay a whole lot of attention to it. Also, whenever I set out to accomplish something, I stick with it until it's done. If I feel like I can't follow through, then I usually don't start. And when it comes to homework, especially writing papers, I practically beat my head against the wall until I feel like I've done the best I can.

This tendency carries both positives and negatives. On the positive side, I'm generally a really hard worker. And since I insist on doing things well, the end result of what I do is usually pretty good. But on the not-so-positive side, if faced with a challenge that I'm not sure I can conquer, I don't usually try. And I'm so incredibly hard on myself. I also fear that I am too often consumed, because I pour so much of myself into whatever it is I am doing or thinking about. And being consumed is only a bad thing, because I might miss or neglect something important.

And right now this characteristic is telling me to delete this post, because I don't really have a point, and everything has to have a point.

Emily's Favorite Things #5 - Singing

My love for music could not be contained in one video. So here's another one.

A clear reflection of myself through a broken mirror.

I recently experienced my first automobile fiasco. About a week and a half ago, early on a Wednesday morning, I was trying to pull into a tight parking spot at school, and in the process of trying to wiggle my way in, I knocked someone's side mirror off.

Calm under pressure as always, I did not flip out. I finished maneuvering myself into my spot, and then got out of the car to assess the damage. I walked around to the other side of the car, and sure enough, there was shattered glass on the pavement. I was hoping that maybe it was still in one piece, and I could just try to put it back in the casing, but it was not to be.

I couldn't just walk away, so my next course of action was to write a note to leave on the car. I should make a note here that it was raining. A constant drizzle. So I got back in my car to write the note, wondering how in the world leaving a note on the outside of a car was going to work, and not being able to find another option. I pulled out my flower paper, as it's known amongst some of my friends. I have a small, flower-shaped notepad that I carry around in my purse, should I ever need a bit of paper, and this was one of those occasions. I apologized profusely, briefly explained what happened, left my name and contact information, pledged to take responsibility for my mistake, and apologized profusely again. And then I stuck my apology-laden piece of flower paper on the windshield of the damaged car and watched it soak through before I could even walk away. I was happy I didn't use ink, but I was still concerned that it wouldn't be legible when the car's owner finally found it.

I went about the rest of my day, and while I didn't forget about what happened, it didn't worry me too much. (Of course, I did drive down to Georgia that night and saw my favorite band, so I was slightly distracted.) I didn't hear from anyone that day, and hoped that the first day's silence was a good sign, signifying that the car owner wasn't so steaming mad that they felt the need to chew me out immediately.

At some point the next day, I got a phone call from a number I did not recognize. I don't normally answer my phone if it's an unknown number, so I let my voicemail pick it up. I listened to the message, and it was a man saying he was calling about his daughter's car, and he asked me to give him a call back. What? I don't want to talk to somebody's dad! Dad's are intimidating! Especially when they're calling about their daughter's damaged car. If he had sounded the least bit irate, I wouldn't have dared to call him, but he didn't, so I gathered my courage sometime later and called him back.

I mentioned something about being cool under pressure earlier, right? Well, I am initially. And when the pressure isn't on me because of something I did wrong or a mistake I made. But by the time I actually talked to this guy, what I had done had had time to simmer, and the pressure was increasing. Especially when I knew I was going to have to talk to someone's father. I should have known right then that I was going to lose it, but optimist that I am, I figured I'd be all right.

I should also add, that before I actually called this guy, I called my insurance agent to let him know what happened and get his opinion about what I should do. His advice made sense: go ahead and call the guy back and see how much it's going to cost, because if the damage is insignificant enough, it might be easier to pay it myself, and keep it off my record, and avoid possibly raising my rates.

So finally on Friday, with that advice, I talked to "The Dad." He was never mean, but he sounded incredibly annoyed, and the longer I talked to him the worse I felt. He said he had had to replace the other mirror before and he told me how much that one had cost, and with that information, I told him I would call him back later when I figured out what I was going to do.

I talked to my parents after that, fishing for their opinion. They told me what they thought, and while I was processing everything, my mom could tell that I was feeling uneasy. Then came the first tears over the whole situation. They tried to be encouraging and explained why they weren't taking care of it for me, even though I never asked them to take care of it for me. It was my fault, not theirs. I calmed myself back down, and called the guy back to ask for some more information. He didn't like what I was asking him, and sounded even more annoyed. I immediately felt bad about asking him what I had and struggled to keep myself composed. Though he never said it in so many words, it seemed to me like he thought I was just a little girl who had no idea what she was doing, and really he was right. But I was trying. He asked for the name and number of my insurance agent, and I gladly gave it to him.

I don't know what I was expecting when I left that note on that car. Despite so much evidence and experience to the contrary, I still hold to the belief that there is good in everybody, and if you will be good to them, they'll be good to you. I was never expecting to be let off the hook, but I guess I was expecting whomever the mysterious car owner was to graciously thank me for taking responsibility for damaging their car and not running off without a second look back, like I so easily could have, and be eager to do whatever they could to work with me while I was trying to work with them.....I feel naive at least once a day.

I called my insurance agent back and he didn't answer, so I left a message. I told him that if he hadn't gotten one already to expect a call from "The Dad," and I told him that for my sake, it would be best if he could just handle everything. As I was saying the latter, I broke down again. Crying on the phone about a broken mirror. Can I get any more pathetic?

I cried for at least two hours. My pastor and his wife had invited all the young people at my church to their house that night, and my brother and I were supposed to be bringing drinks, so I tried to compose myself enough to leave the house. It worked for about 5 minutes. But I started crying again in the middle of Wal-Mart where we were getting drinks. I don't know why I hadn't picked up on it yet, but I was about to learn a big lesson about myself that I thought I had already learned and moved beyond.

I really needed that night with my church friends. People who are really and truly following Jesus are the most encouraging people I've ever met. It was really one of the first times I've had to hang out with any of them, so it ended up being a kind of get-to-know-you kind of night. At one point, after having told several things about myself over the course of the night, my pastor's wife said, "Emily, you're so sweet." And almost in the same breath, she started warning me about how easy it is to fall into a vicious cycle of people-pleasing, and I needed to get out of it as quickly as I could. All I could do was nod. I was almost dumb-founded that she picked up on that about me in just that short period of time. Hello, Holy Spirit. It's nice to see people actually listening to you, and letting you speak through them.

That was the first eye-opener, and I got another one the next day.

My mom thought I wasn't handling the situation very well, and she got upset on Saturday. So I got upset again. She asked me why in the world I wasn't sticking pu for myself and doing what she thought was so obvious. I asked myself that same question. I realized it was because I still felt bad about what I had done. I was feeling deeply guilty. Both times I had talked to "The Dad" on the phone, the only thing I could think was, "Of course he's annoyed. I messed up his car! It's a wonder he's not screaming at me." My mom said, "Why are you letting him intimidate you? You have to know you're worth more than that. You know that don't you?" I paused. Did I know that? I finally said, "I know it, but I don't always feel like it." "You've got to change that," said my mom.

I thought I was over this. This feeling that everyone else is right and I'm wrong, and it's my job to accommodate their every whim, and if I don't, I'm a bad person. I obviously have farther to go than I thought.

All this because of a little side mirror.

But I'm honestly glad it was a little side mirror that opened my eyes, rather than something much more serious.

P.S. My insurance agent eventually did talk to "The Dad," and he's been handling everything. I haven't heard from him or anyone else in a few days, so I assume everything's alright, and that the marred car is either being fixed or is already fixed. Thank the Lord for my insurance agent, and my grandmother who so graciously pays for my insurance every month.

There's a first time for everything.

I am about to do something I never expected that I would do.....blog about food.

I'm not usually the type of person who finds some deep, spiritual insight in food, nor do I think it's so great that I want to talk about it all of the time. I don't even have time to eat, usually. Breakfast is rare for me. And I don't usually eat at school. So I'll munch on something when I get home in the afternoon, and then eat dinner later. So that's two meals. There are usually one or two days of the week (typically weekends) when I actually eat on three separate occasions. But two is the dominating number. There are even times, which aren't as rare as they should be, when I only eat once in a day. So obviously, for good or for bad, food isn't on my list of priorities. So why am I blogging about it?

Because there is a little-known delight that I can't help but talk about.

Chocolate gravy. You go some places, and everyone knows about chocolate gravy, then you go others and people give you funny looks when you mention it. I love it when those funny looks turn into, "Wow, this is good!" Put it on biscuits, and it's one of my favorite foods.

The reason this is on my mind is because I made a speech about it this week. In my speech class, we were supposed to demonstrate something, and I chose to demonstrate how to make chocolate gravy. And then gave out samples. I was pleased to see about two or three of my classmates knew what it was. Since I obviously can't cook in a classroom, I made up a batch the day before to take with me, and it was so hard to not be able to eat it for 24 hours.

For any who aren't familiar with it, it really is what it sounds like. It's a substance that's the consistency of gravy that looks and tastes like chocolate. I've heard people put it on all kinds of things, but I believe it is best on what it was originally intended for, biscuits. I don't make it often, because I don't cook much, especially not in the morning, but having made it this week, I'm starting to think that I may have to make more soon for breakfast for dinner. Chocolate is good any time of the day.

Another incentive for me to make it would be guests. Especially those who've never tried it. So come to my house, and I'll feed you chocolate. :-)

Insight from Thoreau.

"The millions are awake enough for physical labor; but only one in a million is awake enough for effective intellectual exertion..."
- Henry David Thoreau

Oh, the oh-so-quotable Thoreau. Only slightly less quotable than his mentor Ralph Waldo Emerson. From my limited experience, both of them dropped gems like the one above through their written works as if they were Hansel and Gretel trying to ensure that they find their way back home.

Thoreau and Emerson both were Transcendentalists. Due to my limited knowledge of Transcendentalism and the fact that the details don't matter in this particular instance, I won't go into what that means exactly. The only basic point that needs to be understood for this discussion is that Transcendentalism did not place Jesus Christ at the center of anything, so right there is where Transcendentalists and I part ways.

But when I read that quotation at the top of this blog for the first time, it struck me, almost as if someone had slapped me across the face. It was several weeks ago, a required reading assignment for my American literature class. I'm sure I read it at least five times before moving on.

Thoreau was describing me, even back in the 19th Century. I am one of those "millions." I wake up day after day, just enough to labor in various physical, mindless ways from the time I get up to the time I go to sleep. And because of my current position as student, I am daily called upon to use my brain. And I daily feel as if I'm in a fog, and I almost inevitably fall asleep each time I begin to test the powers of my mind. (As an aside, Thoreau did mean that statement in a figurative sense just as much as in a literal sense, but for my purposes I choose to only address the literal sense.)

This just goes to show how consistent human nature is. Since the first man and woman, people are still people wherever you go. It also goes to show that lots of people make true statements. Thoreau was a person just as much as I am, or any of the most-learned theologians are. He was a human. He knew humans. So lessons can be learned from him just as well as anybody.

But I thank God that I have learned that there is so much more than true statements. Despite millenniums of endurance, true statements can change. They aren't permanent. But Truth in the form of a person, in the form of Jesus Christ, is something that does not change, that has not changed, that will not change. And on that is what I choose to base everything, my beliefs, my ideologies, my theologies. So as much as I appreciate Thoreau for his insight and way with words, I'm happy to know that that's not the end.

Weary.

You know what? I'm tired. Like, really.

Last week was one of the busiest weeks I've had in a while. And now I'm technically on fall break, but it hasn't been much of a break. I've been working more the past three days than I do normally. And there's been a lot of drama, which I may explain further on a blog in the near future. And that has left me emotionally spent on top of everything else.

I have had no time recently that hasn't been scheduled to do something else. I've had blog topics rolling around in my head for the past two weeks, and every day I would tell myself that I would get to it that night, but it never happened. I'm really too tired to be blogging right now, so I'm praying that this isn't incoherent. But incoherent or not, blogging is therapeutic, and I need therapy. This doesn't even cover anything I've been wanting to say for the past two weeks. But I'm not even sure I remember anything I've been wanting to say....

I need rest. And I don't know when I'm going to get it.

But I'm pretty sure the sun is going to shine tomorrow. And I'm fairly certain I'm going to be alive. So I'm going to get up in the morning and do it all over again. Surrendering with every step I take, and praying I don't fall too far.

Hold me, Lord.

My very first album review - How Many Kings: Songs For Christmas

I have never written an album review before. Even for my much talked about favorite group of guys Downhere. But that is about to change. And it figures that it would take Christmas music to get me to break my silence.

The aforementioned band, Downhere, released an album of Christmas songs this past Tuesday, October 6th, appropriately titled How Many Kings: Songs For Christmas. I was privileged enough to get an advance copy of this album back in July, and having listened to it an incalculable number of times since then, have had plenty of time to get comfortable with, to the point that it's now like an old, familiar friend.

I said in the beginning that it figures that it would take Christmas music to break my album reviewing silence, because I am a great lover of Christmas music. Combine that with my favorite band, and there was about a one-in-a-zillion chance that I wasn't going to like this album. But I am well aware that not all people go nuts about Christmas music like me. I've even heard rumors about some who don't even listen to it in on Christmas Day, but that can't possibly be true. Can it? Regardless, I realize that not everyone is going to get excited about an album of Christmas music. But, if you can believe me, I think this album will make people who don't like Christmas music, like Christmas music. At least a little.

This album is very original. Four of the songs on here are originals written by the band, and one of those originals comes in two versions that are very different from each other. All of the rest are traditional carols, done as only Downhere can do them.

I don't want write a 10-page, exhaustive novella about each song, but I do want to briefly mention some highlights.

How Many Kings - This is the first original, that was previously released on their label's compliation album Bethlehem Skyline, and appears here spruced up with some nicely arranged strings. It has been one of their most popular songs to date, and with good reason. It presents the uniqueness of the Christmas story with beautifully written, vivid images.

God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen - I've always thought this was a fun song, but the way they do it takes it to a whole new level. I have one word: Baroque. If you don't know what that means, you have missed out on much in life, and I will be happy to explain, should you only ask.

Angels From The Realms Of Glory - I think the average person has heard of this song, and perhaps is familiar with the tune, but I'm relatively sure the majority could not tell you any words beyond the first six, which happen to be those contained in the title. I, for one, did not know it well, and that's saying something. This is the first song on here they do that I deem to be an unfamiliar familiar Christmas carol. Which I like, because it adds to the uniqueness. With their arrangement, they do the beauty of the lyrics justice.

Christmas In Our Hearts - This is the second original. One of the first things my mom said when she heard it was, "You know...this sounds like the Beatles." Yes, mama, I agree.

Silent Night - This a very familiar familiar Christmas carol. I personally have more versions of this song than any other. But for me, the way they do this song never gets old. Again, they do justice to the beauty of the lyrics. It's very simple. The song is carried by the amazingly complimentary vocals of Jason and Marc, which in my eyes, considering how much I define Downhere by their strong vocals, and especially the blending of the two, is about as "Downhere" as you can get.

Good King Wenceslas - This is another one of those unfamiliar familiar Christmas carols. Before this album, I could sing the tune to you all day, but knew nothing beyond the first three words, "Good King Wenceslas." And I am ashamed to say that I couldn't even pronounce "Wenceslas" correctly. This version is incredibly infectious. I'd like to see anyone not start grooving at least a little bit when they hear it. I do every time. It gets me in trouble when I'm driving....

What Child Is This? - One of my all-time favorite Christmas carols. This version goes down smoothly. Until it gives you chills. And for all you English speakers, there's a surprise when you get to the third verse. Marc, the French-Canadian, sings in French. I'm terrible at French, so despite how many times I've listened to it, I still can't get all the words right. It's my favorite part of the song.

Bring A Torch, Jeanette, Isabella - Another unfamiliar familiar Christmas carol. A beautiful story of two girls who happen upon the manger scene and go spread the word of what they have seen. We hardcore fans have been wanting them to record this song for years, and there was much exclaiming when we got word that it was on the album. They did not disappoint.

5 Golden Rings - Umm...no it's not the Twelve Days Of Christmas....you'll have to listen for yourself. They have a sense of humor, these guys.

Glory To God - This is the third original, also previously released on the compilation album Bethlehem Skyline. Nothing was added to this song for this album, but it wouldn't have been complete without it. The third verse sums it up best, "Now until He returns remember this time, when least of men were given the greatest of light. That God chose not to glory in wealth, power, fame, but with the simple and the small he came."

Gift Carol - The fourth original, and very Christmassy in a good way. The bridge is my favorite. It makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside, not because of jingle bells and presents, but because Jesus came to earth and even the angels sang of his arrival.

We Wish You A Merry Christmas - Aside from the bonus track, this is the end, and what a fitting end it is. A jolly "Merry Christmas" from the four of them and a dog. Their arrangement reminds me of Bert on Mary Poppins, when he was doing his one-man-band gig. All I can say is, I want them to come caroling at my house. (Which considering my proximity to Nashville, wouldn't be too far out of the way. ;-)) Oh, and listen for Jeremy's solo. He makes his singing debut. It makes me smile.

How Many Kings Re-Imagined - This is that second, very different, version that I mentioned, and I love how the same song book-ends the album. This happens to be my favorite track out of them all. As much as I believe Marc (who sang the song originally) can sing anything and blow the original out of the water, there's something about Jason's (who sings this version) voice that hits me like no other. But Marc is far from absent on this version, and I happen to like him better on this version than the original. There's so much conviction in his voice at the end. This is the song that is hardest for me to sing along with, because so much of the time, my throat closes up and seems to lose all ability to make sound.

There aren't any songs about Santa on this album, or tales of hurried shoppers, and that is what I like the best. Christmas is one of my favorite times of the year, but it is so often spoiled for me by all the flashy, marginal, unimportant things. Downhere has crafted an album that, with every song, directs your attention back to Jesus, whom without we would not have this widely cherished holiday, and unlike what happens with most Christmas albums I listen to, I find myself becoming more in awe of him after every listen.

Keep up the good work, guys.

Miss Pollyanna Scrooge

I often ask myself strange questions. I'm not exactly sure where this one ranks, because I'm not the best judge, but it did strike me as odd when it popped in my head.

Why can't I just be negative and move on? Why can't I say "Bah! Humbug!" and soak for a while in my pool of bad feelings? Why is there always a silver lining? Why is that I so consistently come out of a situation I had previously been dreading with a smile on my face and a gladness in my heart? Why, when I am so sure that this is the end, am I always proven wrong?

Okay, so that's more than one question, but they all boil down to the same thing. I have a habit of wanting to complain about something and shed a river of tears, and then feel the need to eat my words about five minutes later when I realize that it wasn't so bad after all; not only was it not bad, it was actually good, quite possibly a moment I will remember for a long time to come. I feel so foolish when that happens. And incredibly dorky, because surely no normal person would find so much good everywhere she looks.

Does this happen to anyone else? Or am I just really that weird? It happens to me most every day. I don't know exactly what causes this. I have a few theories that would perhaps come to something if I explored them more.

Normally I would explore them in the remainder of my blog, but I am currently too mentally and physically exhausted to do that. Which leaves me feeling discontent, because it is in my nature to figure things out.

So here's a rundown of my current feelings; discontentment at the fact that I can't devote myself to getting to the bottom of this curious occurrence; frustration at the fact that I can't ever settle in my Scroogishness; exasperation at the fact that I seem to be such a Pollyanna; incredulity that those last two things even bother me; amusement that they do; and even more exasperation at how back and forth I am. If you could have seen me while I was typing this, you would have seen how many times I rolled my eyes. I lost track, but it was a lot.

How in the world do I live with myself? I'm so crazy.

But that's exactly why I love to live with myself. I'm not usually a laugh a minute on the outside, but there's never a dull moment in my head. I wish you could see it sometime. Then again...maybe it's a good thing that God and I are the only ones who know what goes on in my head....

This post is not satisfying at all....but I guess it's nice to switch it up and end with strange commentary and unanswered questions. It's actually a much better representation of my life.

On fandom.

What's on my mind tonight?.........

I am slowly becoming a poster child for Centricity Music.

Part of me is excited and amused by this, and says, "Give me more stuff! Why stop at poster? Let's go for billboard!"

The other part me says, "Okay, now...isn't enough enough?" and wonders what in the world I am turning into.

Evidence of this transformation: I am currently listening to my Centricity Music playlist, which includes every song I own from any artist on that label. I listen to it often. On my last few roadtrips, the vast majority of the music I picked to listen to was from Centricity, much to the annoyed amusement of my exasperated brother. The book I use as a planner where I write all of my school assignments is a Centricity notebook. There is currently a tube sitting on my desk with a big Centricity label on it, in which they recently shipped a nice poster to me. And that's not to mention the artist merchandise I have, mostly of downhere and Jason Gray.

I don't know why I feel any different about this than, say, Disney, merchandise of which I have always had my fair share, particularly Winnie-the-Pooh. For example, just glancing around my room, I see Pooh Bear's face about three times, and were I to look more carefully, I'm sure I'd find more of him. That has never struck me as odd, nor has it made me wonder about myself. Why the difference?

Maybe because you're supposed to be a fan of Disney. And at the core of the company are characters, that's what drives them, what they are centered around, or at least what their face looks like. And it's alright to go goofy about a character. (No pun intended, but certainly appreciated.) But music...with music, there are no characters to hide behind. There are just the people who make it. And as crazy as I have become about downhere, for instance, I've always been kind of uncomfortable about being a fan of a person. Because it seems way too easy to get carried away and start making the person out to be more than a person. Appreciation can quickly lead to idolization, and there's only one person I want to idolize.

On top of that, these aren't some world-famous people, who have the paparazzi following them everywhere, and people trying to get a lock of their hair to sell on eBay. It might make a little more sense if they were celebrities. But in the grand scheme of things, they're only a little more well-known than me. And regardless of celebrity, I've talked to these people. Being a fan of someone you don't know is different than being a fan of someone you do know. I mean, not many people go around telling everyone they know how great their neighbor is. Whatever the reason may be, it seems much more natural to be a fan of someone you don't know.

And so I'm questioning myself. I question myself often. Have I taken things too far? Part of me says, "If you have to ask that question, then yes, you most certainly have." But the other part points out that maybe I'm just being aware and keeping myself from getting carried away. That latter description tends to be more like me. I have a track record of keeping myself so reigned in that I can't move.

But really, doesn't it make more sense to promote people you do know, whom you know firsthand to have something worthy of sharing with the world? Especially if that something is THE most important thing to share with the world. That's my way of thinking. And as much as I may talk about Centricity, talk to me long enough and you'll probably hear me say just as much about my brother. Either one of them. Or any other member of my family. Or my best friend. I get just as excited when when sharing a memory of them. So I'm pretty sure my head is still screwed on straight.

Bring on the Centricity swag! I will proudly display it. And I will continue to blog about them every other entry, and mention them about every 5 tweets. And burn a lot of gas going to see their acts in concert. Because I really believe in what they're doing. And they're doing it well.

P.S. I promise you, they don't pay me a dime. And I'm not fishing for them to pay me a dime. I have paid them a dime or two. :-)

I had a speech dream. Or two.

I've often wondered if my dreams had any significance. Most of them have been either so epic, so bizarre, or both, that it would seem like there would be some kind of meaning. On top of that, I dream so frequently, my mind tends to think that there must be some purpose in something that happens so often.

But try as I might, I haven't been able to come up with anything. I have written down journals full of dreams, made careful mental notes trying to recognize a possible pattern that may resemble real life, and the only thing I've been able to notice is that often the subjects of my dreams are things on my mind when I go to sleep. But that's obvious and to be expected. I can't gather any deeper meaning out of that.

But things changed recently. This semester I am taking Fundamentals of Communication, which is essentially a speech class. We had to give a short introductory speech the second week of class. Overwhelmed procrastinator that I am, I was going to bed two days before I had to give the speech, and I kept repeating in my mind "I have got to write that speech tomorrow." I had a very vague idea of what I was going to say, but no details and no structure. That night, I dreamed that I was writing my speech, and when I got up the next day, I knew most of the details of what I was going to say, and how I was going to structure it all. All thanks to my dream. If only I could do that with all of my other homework assignments.

I'm gearing up for another speech, and by this past Friday I was supposed to have my topic e-mailed to my professor. Friday night I went to bed thinking, "Tomorrow I must focus and find a topic for this speech." I woke up the next morning, remembering what I had just dreamed, and I thought, "That's my speech topic."

So for the first time in my life, twice in a short period of time, both relating to a speech I have to give, my dreams have had some purpose. It's neat and little strange all at the same time.

Hopeful.

This week has been.....trying. So trying in fact that other people (or at least one other person) noticed something was up. I'm usually pretty good at being fairly unreadable, particularly when negative emotions are involved. It's not that I don't want people to know when something's troubling me, it's that I don't like to play up anything negative. If anybody asks me how I'm doing, I'll be honest and not say, "Everything's great!" but I don't want to go around acting all mopey or anything.

But sometimes I can't conceal what's bothering me, as was the case Wednesday night. My mom, brother, and I stood outside of the Walnut House after our church meeting for a long time talking to a couple from our church, and he (the male half of the couple) came over to me after I don't know how long and asked me what was wrong. From my perspective I was coming across like I was perfectly normal, so my first though was, "Is it really that obvious?" Apparently it was. So I told him. I'm in class 19 hours a week, I'm having a problem getting all of my homework done, I don't sleep enough at night, and fall asleep in the middle of the afternoon every time I start trying to do my homework, which makes it even harder to get my homework done...basically I'm stressed and overwhelmed. I'm still surprised he picked up on that. I'm thinking that either it was the Holy Spirit, or it was so obvious that everyone around me noticed and he was just the only one to speak up. I'm going to go with the former.

That night was good for me. It was encouraging, and helped me get my mind off of everything for a little while. There are some exciting things in the works in my church and I'm eager to see what God's doing in our little community and in our city. It was also good to connect with people. I have been so isolated lately. And the body of Christ is so encouraging. I needed to be in that environment. Although I was still drowning in homework and falling asleep over my books, it made a difference in the rest of the week. My outlook was slightly less bleak.

I've knocked out a bunch of work this weekend. And I'm hoping that if I can get caught up on everything, I'll better be able to stay on top of what I need to do. I've had so much going on in and out of school since the beginning of September that I've been behind almost since the first day of class. Not cool. I'm praying that that trend does not continue through the rest of the semester.

It always seems that when I'm feeling particularly low, God sends something along to pick me up. Wednesday was a particularly trying day, and that night a few of his precious people lifted my spirit. I've also been lamenting the fact that I've barely been singing lately, and just tonight, I was asked to sing at church in the morning. With a mic. I haven't done that in ages. I'm excited! Not because I'm going to have a mic in my hand and all the people get to see and hear me because I'm something special. It's because God has given me the ability and I love getting to use it. On top of that, it's affirming to me whenever others recognize that same gift and help to provide opportunities for me to use it. And I know it's all not all about affirming me, but it's good to know that I'm not just making something up, making myself out to have something that I don't really have. I tend to question myself, which is good and bad. It's definitely not healthy to be overconfident, but the other extreme is not good either. I struggle with finding a balance.

And so I am writing this tonight feeling hopeful. I'm still going to class 19 hours a week and am wondering how I'm going to fit everything in and manage to keep my head on straight, but it's not weighing down on me like it was. For this I am grateful.

Happy packages and Emily's Favorite Things #4

The last time I blogged about Jason Gray, I mentioned his then forthcoming album and the fact that I hoped I would be getting it. Well, I did. I pre-ordered it the day before it released, and bought the deluxe edition package which included the special edition of the album, a t-shirt, and a custom music box that plays a sample of one of the songs from the album.

The eagerly awaited package came about a week ago, and I was more than excited! But there was a small damper put on that excitement when I got the package open, because the music box was not there. Sad day. I mentioned my small woes on Twitter and Jason Gray himself saw it and notified his label. His label then contacted me and started trying to get the problem figured out. And today my missing music box was in the mailbox! I was giddy. And very grateful to Jason and Rebekah for helping to resolve the problem. The Internet never ceases to amaze me. And I live in it.

But wait...there's more. I received another package in the mail today. On Monday...I think....I located a certain DVD on Amazon that I really wanted to get and I decided to buy it. The DVD is a downhere documentary called "While The World Is Asleep," and although it was released in 2004, I have yet to see it. Which is unacceptable. But I am about to remedy that, because it also came in the mail today and despite the fact that I need to either be sleeping right now, cleaning, doing homework, or any number of other things, I am going to watch it!

As you can see, today was an exciting one in my world. Downhere and Jason Gray goodies in the mail all in one day! It was so exciting in fact, that I made a video.

Enjoy.

Anything you can do, I can do better.

Summary of a conversation between my youngest brother and I this afternoon:

Brother: You're silly.
Me: No, you're silly.
- No, you're silly.
- No, you are sillier than I am.
- No, you're sillier.
- No, you are far sillier.
- No, you are.
- I have evidence that you are sillier than I am.
- What evidence?
- Lots of evidence. Really good evidence.
- I have evidence that you are sillier.
- My evidence is better.
- No, my evidence is better.
- My evidence is the best.
- Mine is.
- No, my evidence is the best there is. It's far greater than yours.
- No, my evidence is better.
- No, mine is.
- Well, I'm better at video games.
- *makes scoffing noise* I beg to differ.
- I am.
- I've been playing video games much longer than you. Longer than you've been alive.
- I know. But I'm still better. I'm better at Zelda.
- I don't think so.
- Yes, I am.
- No, I'm the champion.....hey, do you wanna play tennis?
- .........sure.

And so we played tennis on our borrowed Wii. And he won one tournament....while I won three. I think it's clear who's better at video games. But one question remains....who's sillier?


P.S. A short while before this conversation took place, he and I had an impromptu dance party while listening to Greg Long's "Jesus Saves." We got down like nobody's business. And then we played with little plush wolves, which eventually led to us throwing them at each other. Kids are amazing.

School's in session!

It's been an entire week since my last post! This time I can't use the excuse of having been away from home, because I wasn't. Aside from a short excursion last weekend, I've been in Murfreesboro the whole time. But life has kept me away from the blogging world. So this is my obligatory update.

A lot has happened in the past week. I started school on Monday. I am again taking a rather large load, and this semester I have not one, but two, English classes. That being my chosen field of study, it was bound to happen at some point. I actually anticipate taking even more than two simultaneously in the future. And what that basically means is that I have to write a lot. Good thing I like to write.

I mentioned in a recent blog that my brother was going to start classes this fall, too. And so has. And that has been consuming a lot of my time as well. I've been helping him try to figure out what's going on and make sure he has everything he needs. I am like a mother hen, so even if he had not asked, I would have tried to give him my help and advice anyway. On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, he has class before I do, and so I've been getting up extra early to ride to school with him. I would have taken my bike, and let him take the car on his own, but I had no way to lock it up. So I've been getting up at 6:00 (5:30 today) so that I had time to get ready. Thus I've been sleep deprived as well as uber busy.

If that's not enough school craziness, there's more. Apparently the education bug has been going around the Harmon house, because my dad decided to go back to school, too!! This is his third time in. It was a very last minute decision, so this week he's been trying to figure everything out, and he officially got registered yesterday. He's missed a few days of classes, but not too much. He went to his first couple of classes today. While I haven't been mothering him like I have my brother, I have been helping him with a few things. He went to MTSU when I was a kid, but a lot has changed since then, particularly with the advent of the Internet. I've been giving him tutorials on how everything works. I'm excited for him! Next year, he'll finally be graduating with his first undergraduate degree. With a double major. He's brilliant, and I'm glad he's getting back into this environment. Oh, and speaking of my dad relating to the Internet, he's on Facebook now! Which has meant more tutorial sessions. I was sitting beside him when he registered and I was shocked. He's never talked about getting a Facebook or anything else of the sort before. He probably just wants to check up on what I'm doing. ;-) So if you want to keep up with him, go be his friend.

I usually take everything in stride, but to be honest, all the stuff got to me this week. By Tuesday night, I about lost it. While so much of my life is disorganized and I don't give much thought to it, with school I need to be organized. At least a little bit. I try my best to be as organized as I can before school starts, but after the first couple of days, there's always more that needs to be done to get everything in order. And by Tuesday night, I had been able to do relatively nothing to get myself organized. And I had homework I had not yet done, that was due the next day. I felt so completely lost. And like I mentioned before, I've been sleep deprived. Over the summer, I had become accustomed to getting much more than an average of 5 hours of sleep on a regular basis. And those first couple of short nights really messed me up. I walked around for two or three days this week threatening to either cry, pull my hair out, or fall asleep at any given moment. Oh, and I've had these mosquito bites all over me. Usually I'm pretty good about not scratching too much, but when I'm stressed and so distracted that I can't focus on making myself resist the itch, it's pretty hopeless. So I've also been clawing myself on top of everything else. In situations like these, it's a good thing I have virtually no finger nails.

As you can see, this week has been crazy. But I'm happy to say I have survived. And now that I am in a much more stable frame of mind, I am grateful for all the things in my life that are contributing to the busyness. It has helped that I've gotten myself organized, and I have a way to lock up my bike now, so for the next little while at least, I'll be able to get some more sleep. And the fact that I have a three-day weekend helps, too. I'm praying that my next week of school, while still guaranteed to be busy, won't be quite as chaotic. And I'm thankful for the grace that has gotten me through this week.

Jason Gray and people in Bowling Green, KY

I haven't talked about him nearly as much as my greatest musical obsession, but my second biggest musical obsession is Jason Gray, labelmate to my aforementioned greatest musical obsession, the band downhere. I got to see him Monday night in Bowling Green, KY.

I of course want to write down my thoughts about JG and the night, but I'm probably going to jump around a lot rather than try to structure them. It'll be a fairly good unedited glimpse into my brain.

The drive one way took about an hour and a half, so of course my brother and I had music playing the whole time. And what was the first thing we listened to that took up most of the drive there? Grits. Their album Dichotomy A, to be specific. Considering the vast musical difference between Jason Gray and Grits I thought it was funny that we chose that particular album to get pumped up for a Jason Gray concert.

JG is a funny, funny man. He never ceases to make me laugh. This time was no exception. I came close to tears a couple of times.

This was only my second time to see him. Kinda hard to believe considering how big of a fan I am. Like the first time I saw him, he was expecting me. But unlike the first time, he recognized me! My brother and I were standing off to the side for a while after the show and then queued up at the end of the line once it had gone down a bit, and as soon as we made it up to him he said, "Hey! You made it!" I was surprised.

Another difference in this time and the last time was the number of songs he played. He was only the opening act the last time I saw him, and therefore played a scant three songs. But this time we got to hear almost a full two hours. And this show was free, as opposed to the nearly $40 I paid for my brother and I to go last time. So all in all, it was indeed a better value.

I have made a pact with myself that if I think about sitting in the front row at all, if I can I am going to do it no matter what. Not one person was sitting in the front row. I didn't notice that until my brother and I had sat down in the middle of the third row. I briefly considered moving, but decided to stay since we were already there. The place we were sitting was good, but I would have liked the front so much more. I do that a lot, not sit in the front and then wish I had. We'll how well my resolve holds up.

This concert was a part of a short tour to promote his new album Everything Sad Is Coming Untrue, which releases on Tuesday, September 1st. In these last several weeks leading up to the release, he's been posting songs from the album onto the Internet for people to listen to, and I have been listening to them a lot. Enough that I could sing along to every song, when most people there hadn't heard any of the songs before. And apparently people noticed, because the next day, I had a new friend request on Facebook from someone I didn't talk to but do remember seeing at the concert. She sent me a message that read, "I saw you at the concert last night and you knew every song! Wow!" And then last night, we Facebook chatted and she said something to the effect of, "we were just talking about you," "we" indicating that there was someone else at the concert with her who too noticed my mouth moving, and remembered me enough to talk about me. Wow. And they must have overheard me telling someone I was from Tennessee, because she said they were impressed that I drove so far. (Side note: 1) For Jason Gray, I would travel very long distances, and 2) an hour and a half doesn't qualify as a long distance.) Um, people I've only seen once and have never spoken to in person, who live in a different state than the one I live in, were talking about me. Again, wow. (I imagine this to be what it feels like to be famous.)

Since I am so familiar with his new songs, I kept trying to anticipate what song he was going to play next based on what he was saying. Before most of the songs, I turned to my brother and would whisper a song title. I guessed wrongly only once. I'm good like that. I think my brother may have been slightly annoyed/amused at all my whispers.

I am eagerly awaiting the day when I can get Everything Sad Is Coming Untrue, and I recommend that everyone check it out. I may blog more about the album and the songs once I own them. There's a lot of good stuff to explore there.

The moral of the story is, I had a blast Monday night and JG is one of the greatest things since sliced bread. The end.

Hope is rising.

Last night was dubbed our official kick-off meeting for the youth group at Hope Church. Before I go into details, my initial thoughts are it was wonderful!

In the midst of working most days and trying to get everything together to start school this coming Monday, my brother was trying to plan as best as he could for this thing. And he admitted to feeling a little stressed. And so we went into this thing with many details left not figured out until the last minute and very little time to work them out. But everything went amazingly well despite that. The only thing we didn't do very well, was try to make sure to remind the kids to be there. So about four ended up being there as opposed to the dozen that were there last week. But that was okay. I did find it funny though that what with the band, the other youth leaders, and a few other church members, the room was mostly filled with people over the age of 18. It looked more like a meeting for college students! I had to smile about that.

Oh, and speaking of the band, it was a true testament to the vast talent of everyone that we pulled everything off so swimmingly. We couldn't find much time to rehearse, but everyone jumped in there and picked up on things quickly. My brother picked great songs. There is quite a bit of bias in that statement, because two of them were downhere songs ("Great Are You" and "Hope Is Rising"). But I think even those who aren't fanatical like me enjoyed them. (Side note: This makes three times that my brother and I have sung "Great Are You" in the past three months. We must really like it or something.)

Our pastor came over to my brother and I as soon as things were finished and reminded us like the angel told Zechariah not to despise small beginnings. Not to worry. I quite treasure small beginnings. Games were played. Laughter ensued. Songs were sung. Truth was spoken. A good time was had by all. What more could anyone ask for?

Was this such a good idea after all?

What am I thinking? Am I crazy? I mean...I live on a highway. It's not a big highway, but it's still a highway! If someone's not paying attention, they could hit me! And I'm going to do this everyday? Or at least most everyday? I must be insane.

These were just a few of the thoughts running through my head as I rode my bike to and from MTSU today. It's amazing what I'll do in the name of saving money.

I don't know exactly how far it is from here to there, but I'm pretty sure that roundtrip I ended up riding further than I've ever ridden in my life. Exercise has never been a priority. I'm just never interested. There are a million and one things to do in life, and most them have taken higher priority than exercising. I always do try to think of ways to incorporate a little exercise into everything I do, like climbing stairs instead of using an elevator, but to just exercise for the sake of exercising, while doing nothing else, has not been something I've made a point to do very often. So obviously, I'm not in very good shape. I never have been. Which makes this undertaking that much more of a big deal.

But like I said, I'm not opposed to exercising if I'm accomplishing something else. Like getting to school. And the idea of saving money is also attractive. So despite the grueling experience today, I still intend to ride to school and back as often as I can. I definitely don't want to when the weather is bad. And it's not going to be a good idea once it gets cold, but fortunately I live in the South. So this'll last until October, maybe even early November. And on the days when my first class is at 8:00, I'm going to need to leave by at least 7:30. Which doesn't look appealing. So if I'm extra tired, I may just wimp out and decide to drive. But hopefully over the next few months, I'll make it most everyday.

There's also a recently developed added bonus that I did not consider when I first got this crazy idea. I did think it might be nice for my car to be available for someone to use while I was gone, just in case, because we've been sharing two vehicles between four people going in different directions, but as of today, it is definite that my brother is going to need the car everyday. Because he's going to MTSU, too!! I helped him register this morning! We probably will ride together sometimes, but it worked out that our schedules are completely different. So most of the time when he needs to be on campus, I won't, and when I need to be there, he won't. I think we have one class that overlaps. So it will be nice if we have separate modes of transportation. I'd offer to let him borrow the bike every once in a while, but he's not as crazy as I am. :-)

So there we have it. I'm certifiably insane. Wish me luck. Pray for me. Laugh at me. Make bets on whether I'll pass out. Whatever you feel like doing.

New and exciting!

Sometime this spring, late April, I think, the pastor of my and my family's church asked my brother if he would lead the youth. He's definitely passionate about that age group, so after praying about it and getting confirmation from God, he agreed to take the job. (Saying "job" makes it seem like he's officially employed and drawing a salary. He's not.)

Our church is young, and until my pastor started talking to my brother, there was really no ministry specifically for the youth. So he's starting this thing from the ground up. Our pastor - and my brother - were eager to get things rolling immediately. The only problem was summer was rapidly approaching. And as busy as I was this summer, my brother was 10 times busier. So despite being eager, my brother told my pastor that really getting much of anything started would have to wait.

But now the busy summer is over. Which means my brother, when he's not working, is busy thinking and planning. And since I'm his sister, we get along and work well together, and because I am willing and feel that God has me in a special place at this time to connect with these kids, I'm helping him. I'm a part of the youth leading team! And I'm excited!

We had a brief meeting tonight and we also got together with them a couple of times over the summer, just to kinda talk through things, tell them what we're thinking, get some feedback from them and all that jazz. Our official kick-off extravaganza is next Wednesday, August 26th! It's going to be a ton of fun!

I've already said it, but this is exciting! I've never done anything like this before! I've worked with youth before, but not in this setting. It's mostly been at church camp, where I'm with them day and night for like a week in the summer and that's it. I may talk to some of them on Facebook, but I'm not really a part of their lives on a regular basis. I started working a little bit with the youth at my last church, but I ended up leaving before I was able to get really involved. I'm very eager to jump into this new experience!

More than that, to be honest, I'm elated to simply be doing something in the area of ministry, whatever it may be. I used to sing pretty often at the last couple of churches I was a part of, but since coming this church, I haven't done much but show up. And for someone who always likes to be doing something, that gets old really quickly. Not only that, I'm pretty sure there are countless passages in the Bible that advocate, even command, serving the people around you. And I do try to make that a part of how I live, but it's nice when you can find something specific to do.

Like Troy and Gabrielle said, this is the start of something new for all of us, in many different ways, and at the risk of sounding redundant, new things are exciting! Thank you, Lord! And please guide us all, every step of the way. Amen.

Surprised by joy.

I am happy to report that since my last blog, I have ridden my bike both yesterday and today. I didn't ride very far, but it's a start.

My rides have been punctuated by chats with a kind gentleman that lives on the road I've been riding on and walks down it several times every day. I don't know exactly how old he is, but he could definitely be my grandpa, possibly even my great-grandpa. I don't even know his name, but he's extremely friendly, and inevitably whenever I have passed him, he has started talking.

To be completely honest, before I stared riding, part of me hoped that he wouldn't be outside walking when I decided to go for a ride. I hold nothing against him, but I feel like I need to prepare myself for social interactions. It's just part of my nature. So when I feel prepared and I decide that I want to be with people and talk to them, then that's fine. But I feel really uncomfortable whenever I'm in full introvert mode and I suddenly have to open up and be sociable. Especially with someone I do not know at all, who seems to want to stop everything and chat for a while. Times like those are real challenges for someone like me.

But I think I make the best of it. And no matter how much of a struggle it may be, I do my best to be kind and as friendly as is possible. Therefore, every time this gentleman has started talking to me, I have stopped my bike and listened to him and tried my best to carry on a conversation. I ended up talking to him three times today. It was impossible to pass him without saying something.

And really it's not so bad. He is the sweetest thing. Apparently, he's lived around here for a while, because he told my brother and me a story yesterday about something that happened at a little store down the road a long time ago. He's always wearing this bright yellow, reflective vest. It does a fine job of making sure people see him. He also heads up the neighborhood watch, and from what I have gathered, he tries to walk 5 miles a day. Pretty cool for someone his age. Even though I was initially dreading encountering him, I found myself smiling the whole time I was riding, because of my few conversations with him. I'm smiling again now just thinking about it. This is one of the first times in my life I have lived in a neighborhood where I have had the opportunity to get to know somebody like this. It's been an unexpected joy interacting with this sweet soul.

I should ask him what his name is sometime....

I like to ride my bicycle!

I don't think I blogged about this when it happened, but I did announce it at various places on the Internet, so chances are you may remember me talking about it. Back in....May, I think, my friend Christine gave me a bike. It needed some work, but overall was in good shape. So my dad said he would figure out what needed to be fixed, and we should have it in good working order rather shortly.

Fast forward to today, and it's finally fixed! I and my whole family have been busy and all over the place all summer, so fixing the bike was mostly overlooked. Until now, that is. And it's just in time, too, because I wanted the bike to be able to ride to school. But before I do that, I need to get in the habit of riding, because it's not exactly a hop and a skip from my house to my school. I think it's close enough that the trip is definitely doable, but I'd rather work up to it. I briefly rode around on the driveway today, and I felt really shaky. I haven't ridden in years! I also need to time how long it takes, so that I won't be late to class.

So beginning tomorrow, I need to start riding. If anyone out there feels inclined to do so, feel free to ask me how the bike riding is going. It'll be extra motivation and a good way to keep me accountable. I really feel like this'll be a good thing in so many ways.

Hopefully I won't find that this is too great an undertaking!

The good and bad, best and worst.

I am home again, for the umpteenth time this summer. And I think I'm going to stay close for at least another month. It's about time.

I have enjoyed all of my ventures, though, including the latest one. Here are some highlights of the past 10 days.


My friend Becca Lee became Becca Crow on Saturday, August 1st. It was a wonderful ceremony. My brother and I were late, so we missed a bit of it, but we saw the important part. And we got to see many friends at the reception afterward, some we had not seen in quite some time. And we threw flower petals at them as they left. It was lovely.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My brother and I went and saw Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince twice, once with our dear cousin and once with my best friend and her boyfriend. The boyfriend hadn't seen a Harry Potter movie since the first, and he's never read the books, but I hope he enjoyed himself all the same. It was good to meet the guy that seems to be bringing much happiness to my best friend. As far as my thoughts on the movie, to quote my brother, "it was the best and worst Harry Potter movie." That about sums it up. I could go into more detail, but I will refrain.

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Thursday night, the directors of Junior Camp at Camp Formosa put together a staff appreciation dinner for all of the people who worked this year, which also served as a very early planning meeting for next summer. They've decided on a wild west theme, complete with lots of horses. Despite my great lack of like for and interest in horses, I found myself getting excited as we were talking about it. And I'm still excited. Next year promises to be even better than this year, and this year was pretty great. It's great to see things begin falling into place this early. That never happens. I hope it's a new trend.

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Speaking of Camp Formosa, we had the very first Post-Grad retreat for 18 to 20-somethings. There were a very few of us there, but I think it was a success. We painted a whole building! It wasn't a big building, but still, it was the whole building. The whole outside got a fresh new coat of white paint, and we also added some much needed color in places. My best friend painted a mural on one wall that is amazing. And we have plans for another wall that we hope to get to in the future. We would have done it this time, but we could only do so much in one day. And what we did manage to accomplish was impressive, to my thinking, so there is no reason to feel bad. Unless you mean physically bad, as in exhausted and worn out. Because I was. Completely. And then I drove home the next day. It's no wonder I felt like crashing as soon as I got back. But it was completely worth it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And now it's time for me settle back into life at home. Which is often just as busy as life away from home. Life, no matter when, no matter where, is busy. With just a few breaks here and there. And that's how it should be, I think. At least for now.

A not-so-distant future.

The five members of my family, including me, are all under one roof tonight. The roof that covers the place we call home, to be specific. That hasn't happened in a while.

We've all done our fair share of traveling over the past several weeks, but my brother, the older of the two, has been gone the most. I've only seen him twice in the past approximately four weeks.

Most people who know me know my brother. Because we're together all the time. We've been a pair for about 19 years. With a very few exceptions, we have all the same friends. Our major interests are the same. And we happen to get along. Which is nice, because I've spent my life rarely feeling like I was without company.

For me, this past month has been a glimpse of the not-so-distant future. When one or both of us move out on our own, we won't be together 24/7. It's kind of sad to think about. But that's the way it is, and the way it should be. At some point, we must set out on the individual paths in front of us. But I have no doubt we will stay close, even if we live halfway around the world from each other.

But for right now, we have been reunited and can continue to spend 24/7 together. Tomorrow we will accomplish that by going on a roadtrip. I think it'll just be the two of us in my car, but our other brother may ride with us, too. Either way, that means lots of singing for the Harmon kids. We're like the von Trapp family, only with a few less kids....several less....maybe we'll get some three-part harmony going.

The Greatest Story Ever Sung: Part Two - Good Behavior

The next song in this ongoing series comes to us from Tiffany Lee, also known as Plumb. It's called "Good Behavior."

"I was frozen in a fragile world
Of make-believe and empty lies
Dressed in the rules
Of a virtuous game
Captured by the thought of fear
And loneliness
Afraid to cry
Suffocated for trying to scream

And I want out now
To find myself

'Cause perfect only makes you crazy
There is no way that it can save me
I'm sick of feeling like a traitor
Is this the price for good behavior

Oh, my naked skin
Feels the warmth of the sun
My eyes are opened
To the brightness of light
Driven by a force so free
To live this life not paralyzed
But with reckless abandon
So now I can breathe

'Cause I wanted out
To find myself

'Cause perfect only makes you crazy
There is no way that it can save me
I'm sick of feeling like a traitor
Is this the price for good behavior

Don't do this, don't do that
You will be oh, so perfect
Don't do this, don't do that
You will be oh, so perfect
Perfect, perfect

'Cause perfect only makes you crazy
There is no way that it can save me
I'm sick of feeling like a traitor
Is this the price for good behavior"


"Well-behaved" was a common character description of me as a child. And I guess I'm still well-behaved. My mom was talking to our 80-something-year-old neighbor recently, and the long-lived woman said to my mother, "You've got good kids, and I don't care if I say it to your face, you've got good kids. You've got the kind of kids they used to raise a long time ago." So it would seem that she approves of my behavior. What of my behavior she has seen, that is.

But there came a point several years ago when my good behavior started to drive me crazy. Not so much my behavior, really, but the fact that what I did never seemed to give me what I wanted, which was a sense of fulfillment inside. I started feeling like I was banging my head against a wall all the time, and instead of feeling a reward for all of my hard work, I still felt like something was missing.

Thankfully, purely by the grace of God, I never really went through a rebellious stage. Not in the typical sense. Even though I was so discontent, I never felt like jumping off the deep end would be a wise idea. It just seemed to lead to more trouble that I hoped to avoid. What I did instead, again, purely by the grace of God, was start seeking God more than I ever had before. Through that, I got to know Jesus better than ever, and he changed my heart so completely.

That's what I had been missing. It's not about what I do, it's about Jesus. Trying to be perfect all day long is pointless. I won't be able to do it, and it's not going to make me complete.

And now, the motivation for everything I do has changed. I am "hidden with Christ in God" (Colossians 3:3), and because of that I strive to "be holy, because [He is] holy." (2 Peter 1:15) Jesus already saved me, and so everything I do is a result of that. My horse is before my cart, and not the other way around.

And so this song, "Good Behavior," describes me so well. The first verse was me before I fully realized the freedom I had gained in Christ, and the perfect was making me crazy. And the second verse is me after, awake, alive, not stuck anymore. It describes me so well, in fact, that the first time I really paid attention to the lyrics of this song, I thought, "Wow. Plumb is in my head." Not really, though. She's just a human like me. A human who has come alive and found all that she needs in Jesus Christ.