Joy that comes from the Lord. Is this what I have? I think so....
I've been thinking lately about my general feelings about life and things....in general. And I generally feel good. I can't say that I'm happy all the time, although I am frequently happy. But my life is crazy, and there are problems and tough situations that I have to deal with like anyone else. And I have a lot of questions and spend a lot of my time feeling confused if I think about them too much, like most people, I'm sure. But even in moments like those when I am far from happiness, I feel this inner contentment, reassurance. Sometimes it's not as noticeable. I have to remind myself to take my eyes off the current situation and realize that's not all there is. And then I think, "Right. What I'm currently dealing with is tough, and no one's expecting me to be bubbly happy, but there is so much more than this." And once I shift my focus, the joy comes in.
As I've heard and as experience has shown me, life has rotations of seasons, much like the physical world. I feel like I'm in a good season of life right now. And so these joyful feelings may be easier to latch onto because of that. But I pray that I can hold onto the joy. And if it's truly the joy of the Lord, then it goes beyond just surface things, so even if I'm experiencing a terrible "winter," that joy is still there to be found. And I suppose that during those times is when that joy is most noticeable, because there's a severe lack of circumstantial happiness to cloud your judgment.
Just my musings, as usual. I'm still searching and learning.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Friday, May 29, 2009
Although the bulb burned out a long time ago, there's still a light at the end of the tunnel.
Generally, I never wish that anybody was like me in the slightest. And that's not just to bag on myself, although there are plenty of things about me that aren't all that great, just like everyone else. It's less about those things, and more about the fact that everyone being different is a good thing. It's a great thing. I don't want to think about a life in which everyone is exactly the same.
But, at least for the moment, I do wish that everyone was like me in one area....
I have often used the words "eternal optimist" to describe myself. I tend to major on the good, the positive, in any given situation, and it's often difficult for me to see the bad, or to even recognize the possibility that something might be bad until someone or something else calls it to my attention. No matter the situation, I always claim there is good, there is hope. Even if I don't see it, I would use all my breath insisting that it's there. Along the same lines, whenever I take spiritual gifts tests, faith is always near the top for me. And I recognize that as I'm living my life. It's usually not hard for me to believe something, specifically something God has said.
I do realize that I have not been hit been by all the terrors of the world, or even just one of the worst, so I can't say for sure that there is nothing that can shake my outlook on life or destroy it altogether. But I do believe that I have seen enough to know that it is a deep rooted trait and to be able to project how I might feel in any given situation. I have the feeling that even if I was in a completely hopeless situation (the debate of whether that is really possible will be left for another time), I would still insist there was something good even though there wasn't.
If only everyone could be like that. Even though the world would still be full pain and horror, and people would still have to fight, it wouldn't seem so bad. Hopelessness and all the tragedies that accompany it would not exist. And I guarantee you more people would be alive. I can't say that's the only reason I'm alive, but I do know it's the only reason I haven't gone legally insane.
Wishful thinking on my part...but the same side of me that I've been talking about likes to think that maybe it's not quite so unattainable....
But, at least for the moment, I do wish that everyone was like me in one area....
I have often used the words "eternal optimist" to describe myself. I tend to major on the good, the positive, in any given situation, and it's often difficult for me to see the bad, or to even recognize the possibility that something might be bad until someone or something else calls it to my attention. No matter the situation, I always claim there is good, there is hope. Even if I don't see it, I would use all my breath insisting that it's there. Along the same lines, whenever I take spiritual gifts tests, faith is always near the top for me. And I recognize that as I'm living my life. It's usually not hard for me to believe something, specifically something God has said.
I do realize that I have not been hit been by all the terrors of the world, or even just one of the worst, so I can't say for sure that there is nothing that can shake my outlook on life or destroy it altogether. But I do believe that I have seen enough to know that it is a deep rooted trait and to be able to project how I might feel in any given situation. I have the feeling that even if I was in a completely hopeless situation (the debate of whether that is really possible will be left for another time), I would still insist there was something good even though there wasn't.
If only everyone could be like that. Even though the world would still be full pain and horror, and people would still have to fight, it wouldn't seem so bad. Hopelessness and all the tragedies that accompany it would not exist. And I guarantee you more people would be alive. I can't say that's the only reason I'm alive, but I do know it's the only reason I haven't gone legally insane.
Wishful thinking on my part...but the same side of me that I've been talking about likes to think that maybe it's not quite so unattainable....
Thursday, May 28, 2009
The Way of Love.
This is what I have been thinking about today. Or at least what I thought was most blog-worthy:
"If I speak with human eloquence and angelic ecstasy but don't love, I'm nothing but the creaking of a rusty gate.
If I speak God's Word with power, revealing all his mysteries and making everything plain as day, and if I have faith that says to a mountain, "Jump," and it jumps, but I don't love, I'm nothing.
If I give everything I own to the poor and even go to the stake to be burned as a martyr, but I don't love, I've gotten nowhere. So, no matter what I say, what I believe, and what I do, I'm bankrupt without love.
Love never gives up.
Love cares more for others than for self.
Love doesn't want what it doesn't have.
Love doesn't strut,
Doesn't have a swelled head,
Doesn't force itself on others,
Isn't always "me first,"
Doesn't fly off the handle,
Doesn't keep score of the sins of others,
Doesn't revel when other grovel,
Takes pleasure in the flowering of truth,
Puts up with anything,
Trusts God always,
Always looks for the best,
Never looks back,
But keeps going to the end.
Love never dies. Inspired speech will be over some day; praying in tongues will end; understanding will reach its limit. We know only a portion of the truth, and what we say about God is always incomplete. But when the Complete arrives, our incompletes will be canceled.
When I was an infant at my mother's breast, I gurgled and cooed like any infant. When I grew up, I left those infant ways for good.
We don't yet see things clearly. We're squinting in a fog, peering through a mist. But it won't be long before the weather clears and the sun shines bright! We'll see it all then, see it all as clearly as God sees us, knowing him directly just as he knows us!
But for right now, until that completeness, we have three things to do to lead us toward that consummation: Trust steadily in God, hope unswervingly, love extravagantly. And the best of the three is love."
1 Corinthians 13 - The Message
"If I speak with human eloquence and angelic ecstasy but don't love, I'm nothing but the creaking of a rusty gate.
If I speak God's Word with power, revealing all his mysteries and making everything plain as day, and if I have faith that says to a mountain, "Jump," and it jumps, but I don't love, I'm nothing.
If I give everything I own to the poor and even go to the stake to be burned as a martyr, but I don't love, I've gotten nowhere. So, no matter what I say, what I believe, and what I do, I'm bankrupt without love.
Love never gives up.
Love cares more for others than for self.
Love doesn't want what it doesn't have.
Love doesn't strut,
Doesn't have a swelled head,
Doesn't force itself on others,
Isn't always "me first,"
Doesn't fly off the handle,
Doesn't keep score of the sins of others,
Doesn't revel when other grovel,
Takes pleasure in the flowering of truth,
Puts up with anything,
Trusts God always,
Always looks for the best,
Never looks back,
But keeps going to the end.
Love never dies. Inspired speech will be over some day; praying in tongues will end; understanding will reach its limit. We know only a portion of the truth, and what we say about God is always incomplete. But when the Complete arrives, our incompletes will be canceled.
When I was an infant at my mother's breast, I gurgled and cooed like any infant. When I grew up, I left those infant ways for good.
We don't yet see things clearly. We're squinting in a fog, peering through a mist. But it won't be long before the weather clears and the sun shines bright! We'll see it all then, see it all as clearly as God sees us, knowing him directly just as he knows us!
But for right now, until that completeness, we have three things to do to lead us toward that consummation: Trust steadily in God, hope unswervingly, love extravagantly. And the best of the three is love."
1 Corinthians 13 - The Message
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Sleigh rides in the rain.
After getting back from Smithville today, where I took my not-so-little brother to for staff training for a camp he's working at this summer, I had a most lovely afternoon. And it was completely unexpected, which made it that much better.
I decided that I wanted to wash my flip flops. Nothing intense, just kinda scrub them a little bit and see if it was possible to make them look even the slightest degree less dirty. I also decided that it was probably best done outside with the water hose. I asked my littlest brother if he was interested in joining me. I figured the water would excite him. It did. And he also decided that he wanted to wash off some of his shoes. He brought out two pairs, as opposed to my twenty. So needless to say, even with factoring in how much slower he was than me, his took much less time.
When I walked out there, there was no rain around. But before I could finish going over all twenty pairs, I heard thunder, and pretty soon the water started falling. I was already wet anyway, as were my shoes, so I finished what I was doing. I was actually happy to have an excuse to stand in the rain, because I don't have one very often. My brother stayed out there with me. As soon as I was finished with my shoes, and before it started really pouring, I told my brother we should go to the porch and we could watch the rain from there. So we left our shoes out in the wet, because I was not about to try to carry 20 pairs of drenched shoes back into the house, and set off for the porch.
It was so nice being out there. I usually watch storms from the inside, so it's always a treat when I can see and hear the rain up close and feel what little of it the wind blows in under my covering. My brother was not content with that, though. He kept stepping out into the rain to the point that he was eventually drenched from head to toe. It made me smile.
We did many other things that made me smile. The rain had put us in a good mood, so we were having all kinds of fun out there on the porch. I don't know why, but we sang "Sleigh Ride." He's the one who started it, and of course, I know all of the words, so we finished it together and managed to make it through a couple more times. It was rather funny to be saying the words, "it's lovely weather for a sleigh ride" in the middle of a rain storm in May. We also danced all kinds of different dances. Out on the front porch for the whole world to see. And once he was soaking wet, my brother started getting a kick out of hugging me. Apparently I wasn't wet enough. We did a lot of remembering and reminiscing, too. I reminded him of some things that happened very early on in his life. He has a pretty good memory. It's hard to believe he's going to be eleven in about a month and a half. I still remember rocking him to sleep and feeding him and giving him baths and all that fun baby stuff. Time passes so quickly.
And I'm glad I took time this afternoon to enjoy the rain and my brother's company. I let many moments like this slip by all too frequently.
I decided that I wanted to wash my flip flops. Nothing intense, just kinda scrub them a little bit and see if it was possible to make them look even the slightest degree less dirty. I also decided that it was probably best done outside with the water hose. I asked my littlest brother if he was interested in joining me. I figured the water would excite him. It did. And he also decided that he wanted to wash off some of his shoes. He brought out two pairs, as opposed to my twenty. So needless to say, even with factoring in how much slower he was than me, his took much less time.
When I walked out there, there was no rain around. But before I could finish going over all twenty pairs, I heard thunder, and pretty soon the water started falling. I was already wet anyway, as were my shoes, so I finished what I was doing. I was actually happy to have an excuse to stand in the rain, because I don't have one very often. My brother stayed out there with me. As soon as I was finished with my shoes, and before it started really pouring, I told my brother we should go to the porch and we could watch the rain from there. So we left our shoes out in the wet, because I was not about to try to carry 20 pairs of drenched shoes back into the house, and set off for the porch.
It was so nice being out there. I usually watch storms from the inside, so it's always a treat when I can see and hear the rain up close and feel what little of it the wind blows in under my covering. My brother was not content with that, though. He kept stepping out into the rain to the point that he was eventually drenched from head to toe. It made me smile.
We did many other things that made me smile. The rain had put us in a good mood, so we were having all kinds of fun out there on the porch. I don't know why, but we sang "Sleigh Ride." He's the one who started it, and of course, I know all of the words, so we finished it together and managed to make it through a couple more times. It was rather funny to be saying the words, "it's lovely weather for a sleigh ride" in the middle of a rain storm in May. We also danced all kinds of different dances. Out on the front porch for the whole world to see. And once he was soaking wet, my brother started getting a kick out of hugging me. Apparently I wasn't wet enough. We did a lot of remembering and reminiscing, too. I reminded him of some things that happened very early on in his life. He has a pretty good memory. It's hard to believe he's going to be eleven in about a month and a half. I still remember rocking him to sleep and feeding him and giving him baths and all that fun baby stuff. Time passes so quickly.
And I'm glad I took time this afternoon to enjoy the rain and my brother's company. I let many moments like this slip by all too frequently.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Circles.
I feel the need to write....
But I don't know what to say....
Because I don't know what to think....
My mind seems to be jumbled and void at the same time....
I don't know what to feel either, except for the need to write....
And to cry....
I'm overcome with this feeling that I need to cry. But I don't know the reason. And I can't make myself cry for no reason, I can't just conjure up tears and force them to stream from my eyes. There has to be something to trigger them....
I'm searching for that something....
But I can't seem to find it....
Or maybe it's that I won't let myself find it....
You see, I'm having trouble going to sleep again, and I'm afraid to do anything that I think might keep me awake longer. My head says, "You should listen to music," but I can't listen to music because 1.) if it's the kind of music that's just background noise then it's not doing anything to distract my mind (which I usually need on occasions like this) and I will soon tire of it because it's just noise, and 2.) if it's music that's engaging, that I won't tire of, then my mind will be aroused and a fresh wave of energy will flow through my veins and I'll be worse off than when I started. And for that latter reason, there a multitude of other things I dare not do. Like study, which I am inclined to do when I feel like this. I'm even fearful of reading, afraid that a simple story will lead my mind to a far off place from where it won't want to return. I tell myself, "Now would be a good time to pray," but my mind is wandering so aimlessly that I can't keep it focused long enough to say anything, and all the thoughts are are meaningless pieces of debris that get me nowhere and after a short minute, in a fit of frustration, I want to get out of my head....
But I can't distract myself, remember? I'll get tired of that really quickly....
So if I can't get out of my head, I'll just make my mind a nicer place to be, I'll put meaningful thoughts into it....
No, I can't do that either....I'm supposed to go to sleep....
I'm stuck....
And therein lies my problem....
I'm so afraid of moving to a place I don't want to be, that I'm not moving at all, which is preventing me from moving to a place where I can have peace of mind and rest....
I don't know what to do....
So here I lie, writing....
Feeling like I just discovered something along the way, and yet still feeling just as lost as when I began....
What am I going to do?
I feel the need to write....
But I don't know what to say....
Because I don't know what to think....
My mind seems to be jumbled and void at the same time....
I don't know what to feel either, except for the need to write....
And to cry....
I'm overcome with this feeling that I need to cry. But I don't know the reason. And I can't make myself cry for no reason, I can't just conjure up tears and force them to stream from my eyes. There has to be something to trigger them....
I'm searching for that something....
But I can't seem to find it....
Or maybe it's that I won't let myself find it....
You see, I'm having trouble going to sleep again, and I'm afraid to do anything that I think might keep me awake longer. My head says, "You should listen to music," but I can't listen to music because 1.) if it's the kind of music that's just background noise then it's not doing anything to distract my mind (which I usually need on occasions like this) and I will soon tire of it because it's just noise, and 2.) if it's music that's engaging, that I won't tire of, then my mind will be aroused and a fresh wave of energy will flow through my veins and I'll be worse off than when I started. And for that latter reason, there a multitude of other things I dare not do. Like study, which I am inclined to do when I feel like this. I'm even fearful of reading, afraid that a simple story will lead my mind to a far off place from where it won't want to return. I tell myself, "Now would be a good time to pray," but my mind is wandering so aimlessly that I can't keep it focused long enough to say anything, and all the thoughts are are meaningless pieces of debris that get me nowhere and after a short minute, in a fit of frustration, I want to get out of my head....
But I can't distract myself, remember? I'll get tired of that really quickly....
So if I can't get out of my head, I'll just make my mind a nicer place to be, I'll put meaningful thoughts into it....
No, I can't do that either....I'm supposed to go to sleep....
I'm stuck....
And therein lies my problem....
I'm so afraid of moving to a place I don't want to be, that I'm not moving at all, which is preventing me from moving to a place where I can have peace of mind and rest....
I don't know what to do....
So here I lie, writing....
Feeling like I just discovered something along the way, and yet still feeling just as lost as when I began....
What am I going to do?
I feel the need to write....
Friday, May 22, 2009
Randimity.
This is going to be very disjointed. I've been thinking about a lot of things and can't find a way to tie them together. So don't expect a clear beginning, a journey, and a clear ending. There won't be one. The title of this is dedicated to my friend Amy. She made up that word. It basically means "randomness" but it's so much cooler. And it describes this post very well.
I'm ready to leave for camp now. But if I did, the only people there would be Wayne and Betty, the caretakers, and I don't need to hang around them and eat up their food for three weeks. It would be rude. Packing would satisfy my itch, but again, I have three weeks. This would be way too early. And I would have nothing to wear, because my whole wardrobe would be in a suitcase, and I wouldn't want to take anything out, because then I'd have to pack it again. That would defeat the purpose. The best I was able to do today was start making a list of things that I need to pack. And then that inspired a list of things I need to buy for my trip, which I will then pack once I have bought them. Lists always inspire more lists.
In thinking about camp, I remembered something I haven't done yet that I told myself right after camp last summer that I had to do before camp rolled around this summer. A whole year of putting it off. How's that for procrastination? What I didn't do was write down topics for small group discussions. I never know exactly for sure what I'm going to do before I get there, but I'm pretty certain that I am going to be assigned a group of girls that I will get together with every night. Last year, I was not prepared for that. Every night, I had no idea what to talk about. My best friend Brenna was my co-leader, and she was just as lost as I was. And I felt so bad about it. I feel like I let the girls down, because I was not being a good, engaging leader, and they all looked so bored. This year, I will not let that happen. Well, I won't let myself not be prepared. I can try my best to make sure they're not bored and they actually get something out of our time together every night, but they have the final say on that. So I have to get busy coming up with a week's worth of things to talk about. Which means I really need to do some serious brain storming, Bible studying, and praying. I already have a couple of things in mind, so I need to organize my thoughts and make some notes on those things first. I've been thinking recently that I need to spend more time with God and do more serious Bible study and now I have even more reason.
I've been contemplating reactions to emotions. Mine, specifically. My one, all-purpose reaction to every strong emotion is to cry. Which is why I cry so much; to feel is to cry in my case. This is incredibly inconvenient more often than not. I start to cry over the weirdest things, in the weirdest places. And when I'm with people, I often fear that they misunderstand my crying. It usually seems like I'm really upset, when I'm not. And I feel like I have to explain myself, but I can't because I'm blubbering too much. It's a big mess.
I am so cheap. No. Not that kind of cheap. I never buy anything. And when I say "never" I'm obviously exaggerating as I am prone to do and mean "very rarely." Spending money is almost like pulling teeth. (See there, I said "almost." I really do try to temper my exaggerating.) "Impulse buying" is a foreign concept in my world. It's something that I've come close to, and even tried once or twice, but immediately backed away from because it wasn't to my liking. Spending money without thinking can get you into trouble. I always feel much better about purchases when I have carefully considered them first. But I came close to reaching over to the dark side this evening at Wal-Mart. I looked in this bin of books, and they had several classics sitting there, classics that I've been wanting to read for ages, for only $3. And they were the complete versions, not abridged nonsense or children's adaptations or anything like that. It was so, so tempting. I haven't bought a book in a rather long time. I usually appreciate my discipline, but there are times, such as this one, that I feel like a miserly curmudgeon. I keep reminding myself that I will appreciate this decision later. And if I do go back to buy them, I will feel much better about it, because I was able to walk away, and I thought about it first.
A lot happened today, as you may be able to tell. I was all over the place. This is just a small sampling.
I'm ready to leave for camp now. But if I did, the only people there would be Wayne and Betty, the caretakers, and I don't need to hang around them and eat up their food for three weeks. It would be rude. Packing would satisfy my itch, but again, I have three weeks. This would be way too early. And I would have nothing to wear, because my whole wardrobe would be in a suitcase, and I wouldn't want to take anything out, because then I'd have to pack it again. That would defeat the purpose. The best I was able to do today was start making a list of things that I need to pack. And then that inspired a list of things I need to buy for my trip, which I will then pack once I have bought them. Lists always inspire more lists.
In thinking about camp, I remembered something I haven't done yet that I told myself right after camp last summer that I had to do before camp rolled around this summer. A whole year of putting it off. How's that for procrastination? What I didn't do was write down topics for small group discussions. I never know exactly for sure what I'm going to do before I get there, but I'm pretty certain that I am going to be assigned a group of girls that I will get together with every night. Last year, I was not prepared for that. Every night, I had no idea what to talk about. My best friend Brenna was my co-leader, and she was just as lost as I was. And I felt so bad about it. I feel like I let the girls down, because I was not being a good, engaging leader, and they all looked so bored. This year, I will not let that happen. Well, I won't let myself not be prepared. I can try my best to make sure they're not bored and they actually get something out of our time together every night, but they have the final say on that. So I have to get busy coming up with a week's worth of things to talk about. Which means I really need to do some serious brain storming, Bible studying, and praying. I already have a couple of things in mind, so I need to organize my thoughts and make some notes on those things first. I've been thinking recently that I need to spend more time with God and do more serious Bible study and now I have even more reason.
I've been contemplating reactions to emotions. Mine, specifically. My one, all-purpose reaction to every strong emotion is to cry. Which is why I cry so much; to feel is to cry in my case. This is incredibly inconvenient more often than not. I start to cry over the weirdest things, in the weirdest places. And when I'm with people, I often fear that they misunderstand my crying. It usually seems like I'm really upset, when I'm not. And I feel like I have to explain myself, but I can't because I'm blubbering too much. It's a big mess.
I am so cheap. No. Not that kind of cheap. I never buy anything. And when I say "never" I'm obviously exaggerating as I am prone to do and mean "very rarely." Spending money is almost like pulling teeth. (See there, I said "almost." I really do try to temper my exaggerating.) "Impulse buying" is a foreign concept in my world. It's something that I've come close to, and even tried once or twice, but immediately backed away from because it wasn't to my liking. Spending money without thinking can get you into trouble. I always feel much better about purchases when I have carefully considered them first. But I came close to reaching over to the dark side this evening at Wal-Mart. I looked in this bin of books, and they had several classics sitting there, classics that I've been wanting to read for ages, for only $3. And they were the complete versions, not abridged nonsense or children's adaptations or anything like that. It was so, so tempting. I haven't bought a book in a rather long time. I usually appreciate my discipline, but there are times, such as this one, that I feel like a miserly curmudgeon. I keep reminding myself that I will appreciate this decision later. And if I do go back to buy them, I will feel much better about it, because I was able to walk away, and I thought about it first.
A lot happened today, as you may be able to tell. I was all over the place. This is just a small sampling.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
A broken heart.
The latest happenings on American Idol inspired this post tonight. No, this post isn't solely dedicated to that, but it's related.
For those who don't know, Kris Allen, my homeboy from Conway, AR was just named the next American Idol. For those who do know, KRIS JUST WON!!!
The episodes I watched this season were very few and far between. But I kept up pretty well with what was happening on the Internet, and my favorites started emerging. Kris was one of them from the beginning. Not simply because I'm from Conway, but because he's good. So when he reached the final two, I wanted him to win so badly. Now, did I want him to win so badly that I voted? No. As much as I've been wrapped up in the show in the past, I have never voted. Why? Probably because I have an extreme aversion to phones. And I can't text in my votes, unless I want to pay for them. So I was hoping that the majority of the voting population would be of the same mind as me, and vote for Kris until their fingers fell off. And apparently, they did. For which, I am ecstatic.
Not only is the boy good, I love his attitude. Humble, he most definitely is. His reaction when he won was the best ever. He was pretty much trying to give the spotlight to Adam and say that he should be the one standing off to the side instead. Some would agree with that assessment. And strictly vocally speaking, Adam does have the upper hand. But Kris's attitude pushes him over the top for me. And America agreed!
In thinking about Kris, I definitely feel a swell of hometown pride. Arkansans are amazing. And I'm not just on the Arkansas bandwagon because the current American Idol winner lives there. I really do love where I'm from. Conway is for sure at the top, but the whole state is great. I love the simplicity of everything. And I love the fact that you can't deny you're in the South while you're there. I have Arkansas pride, and I'm not ashamed to admit it.
But I also really love where I live now. Actually, although I call Arkansas my home, I've lived in the Middle Tennessee area for a greater number of years than I have lived in the Natural State. I moved to Nashville just a few months before I turned 7 and most of my growing up years were spent in the Davidson/Rutherford County area. And I'm so happy to be where I am right at this point in my life. I love where I go to school and can't imagine being anywhere else. And the culture in this area is really great; there are so many different types of people around here, different backgrounds, different points of view, but I can still tell that I'm in the middle of the South. And as rapidly as Murfreesboro is changing and expanding, it has still managed to keep its small town feel. Small towns are my favorite. And of course, the music. When my family first came here, as adamantly as I was against moving, the only high point for me, and the thing that made it seem at least slightly okay, was the fact that I was moving to Music City.
My heart is torn. Is there any way that I can live in two places at once? Yeah, that's what I thought. When I'm here, I miss being there. I miss my family. I miss all of my friends; friends whom I don't get to see very often. I miss being able to walk out my back door and get lost in the woods, and not even have to worry about trespassing, because my family owns all the land as far as I care to walk. I miss being able to go to Toad Suck Daze! (Some of you know what I'm talking about, but I'm sure most of you are thinking, "What the heck is Toad Suck Daze?" Ask me and I'll tell you. :-)) When I'm there, I can't wait to get back here. I love my house. I miss my friends. I have a lot of really great ones over here. I miss being able to run to Nashville for a concert. (Which I don't actually do that often, due to a lack of funds, but it is known to happen, and the number of free shows around here is much greater than the number of free shows over there.)
Whatever shall I do? If I had more money, I'd travel back and forth a lot more. And maybe I'll be able to do that in the future. But who knows, I may end up somewhere totally different later on in life, making the situation even more complicated. All I know is, right now, I am where I am supposed to be, and as long as that's the case, I'm going to stay here. And enjoy all the times that I get to spend in Arkansas.
For those who don't know, Kris Allen, my homeboy from Conway, AR was just named the next American Idol. For those who do know, KRIS JUST WON!!!
The episodes I watched this season were very few and far between. But I kept up pretty well with what was happening on the Internet, and my favorites started emerging. Kris was one of them from the beginning. Not simply because I'm from Conway, but because he's good. So when he reached the final two, I wanted him to win so badly. Now, did I want him to win so badly that I voted? No. As much as I've been wrapped up in the show in the past, I have never voted. Why? Probably because I have an extreme aversion to phones. And I can't text in my votes, unless I want to pay for them. So I was hoping that the majority of the voting population would be of the same mind as me, and vote for Kris until their fingers fell off. And apparently, they did. For which, I am ecstatic.
Not only is the boy good, I love his attitude. Humble, he most definitely is. His reaction when he won was the best ever. He was pretty much trying to give the spotlight to Adam and say that he should be the one standing off to the side instead. Some would agree with that assessment. And strictly vocally speaking, Adam does have the upper hand. But Kris's attitude pushes him over the top for me. And America agreed!
In thinking about Kris, I definitely feel a swell of hometown pride. Arkansans are amazing. And I'm not just on the Arkansas bandwagon because the current American Idol winner lives there. I really do love where I'm from. Conway is for sure at the top, but the whole state is great. I love the simplicity of everything. And I love the fact that you can't deny you're in the South while you're there. I have Arkansas pride, and I'm not ashamed to admit it.
But I also really love where I live now. Actually, although I call Arkansas my home, I've lived in the Middle Tennessee area for a greater number of years than I have lived in the Natural State. I moved to Nashville just a few months before I turned 7 and most of my growing up years were spent in the Davidson/Rutherford County area. And I'm so happy to be where I am right at this point in my life. I love where I go to school and can't imagine being anywhere else. And the culture in this area is really great; there are so many different types of people around here, different backgrounds, different points of view, but I can still tell that I'm in the middle of the South. And as rapidly as Murfreesboro is changing and expanding, it has still managed to keep its small town feel. Small towns are my favorite. And of course, the music. When my family first came here, as adamantly as I was against moving, the only high point for me, and the thing that made it seem at least slightly okay, was the fact that I was moving to Music City.
My heart is torn. Is there any way that I can live in two places at once? Yeah, that's what I thought. When I'm here, I miss being there. I miss my family. I miss all of my friends; friends whom I don't get to see very often. I miss being able to walk out my back door and get lost in the woods, and not even have to worry about trespassing, because my family owns all the land as far as I care to walk. I miss being able to go to Toad Suck Daze! (Some of you know what I'm talking about, but I'm sure most of you are thinking, "What the heck is Toad Suck Daze?" Ask me and I'll tell you. :-)) When I'm there, I can't wait to get back here. I love my house. I miss my friends. I have a lot of really great ones over here. I miss being able to run to Nashville for a concert. (Which I don't actually do that often, due to a lack of funds, but it is known to happen, and the number of free shows around here is much greater than the number of free shows over there.)
Whatever shall I do? If I had more money, I'd travel back and forth a lot more. And maybe I'll be able to do that in the future. But who knows, I may end up somewhere totally different later on in life, making the situation even more complicated. All I know is, right now, I am where I am supposed to be, and as long as that's the case, I'm going to stay here. And enjoy all the times that I get to spend in Arkansas.
Monday, May 18, 2009
Stories
I get completely wrapped up in stories. Good ones, in particular. And when I say "good" I mean "effective," because the goal of a story is to get the receiver of that story to understand something, which often means that the receiver has to put his or herself into the story to properly understand what the storyteller is trying to communicate.
Currently, the book form of stories is what is forefront on my mind, but another good example is movies. And that's one of the reasons I'm so selective about what I watch. Because while I'm sitting there watching that movie, it's essentially real for me. At least, I feel like it's real. Mentally, I can distinguish(usually), but it's hard for my head to convince my racing heart and soaring emotions that what I am seeing isn't really happening, that there's no real reason for the tears streaming down my face. I mean, just a few months ago, I cried while watching Bolt. Yes, Bolt, the Disney movie. And I'm sure my face looked ridiculous. I remember sitting there thinking about it at the time; 1.) I felt great, intense sadness at Bolt's feelings of rejection and abandonment and also at Penny's despair that her best friend was gone, 2.) the sadness all around was completely unnecessary, so I was frustrated, wishing that I could clue both of them in and fix the problems, and 3.) I was studying my emotions and the whole situation as it was happening, and marveling at how involved I was and realizing that my emotions must be evident on my face and I felt the need to laugh at myself. So there I was, sad, frustrated, and wanting to chuckle, with my mouth twisting between a frown and a smile, my throat trying to gasp out a sob and a giggle at the same time, my eyes wanting to dance and resemble that of a sad puppy all at once.
Bolt is not what prompted this post, though. I am in the middle of rereading the Twilight series by Stephenie Meyer. I started in on the second book, New Moon, last night and finished it today. That is the most depressing book I have ever read, and for some reason I insisted on reading it a second time. And I imagine I'll read it again, many more times. Getting back to the point though, when I say it's depressing, it really is depressing. Last night, when I got to the infamous third chapter, I bawled as my eyes were moving across the pages, so hard that I was actually gasping for air. And through the majority of the book, as Bella was feeling empty and numb, so was I. Both times I have read that book I have plowed through it. It's so painful that a part of me doesn't want to, but I have to get out of that despair as quickly as possible, so I force myself to go on. This series seems to be particularly prone to dragging me in because of Bella, the main character and one narrating the story. I understand her so well. It's like I'm in her head.
While part of me wants to roll my eyes and laugh at myself like I did during Bolt, the other part of me says, "Don't be so silly. That's what stories are for." And I really believe that. That's a big part of the reason I'm an English major, because I feel passionately that literature has great value. And I want to stand up and fight for it when I hear people passing it up as something trivial. Particularly "kids' stories." The value of a fairy tale seems to have been lost by the world. It's just something to be used to keep a child entertained and then at some point you have to grow up and move on. *sigh*
I really need to research this topic more, the value of literature, and more completely form my thoughts and opinions. I imagine being an English major will help in that area, but I intend to do research on my own, too. I'm sure there are so many things that I've never even considered.
In the meantime, I'm going to finish the next two books in the Twlight series. I would start tonight, but I don't actually own the second and third books. I borrowed the second from a friend and I'm probably going to return it and get the next one from her soon. Unless I can get my hands on a copy of the third one sooner. I'll still return her book of course. I just won't borrow the next one. Which I'm sure you surmised, but my sentence wasn't clear on that point, and I feel the need to explain everything. As evidenced by the fact that I just explained my need to explain things.
I'm going to stop now, before I detract too much from the point of this post, which I fear I may have aleady done....
Currently, the book form of stories is what is forefront on my mind, but another good example is movies. And that's one of the reasons I'm so selective about what I watch. Because while I'm sitting there watching that movie, it's essentially real for me. At least, I feel like it's real. Mentally, I can distinguish(usually), but it's hard for my head to convince my racing heart and soaring emotions that what I am seeing isn't really happening, that there's no real reason for the tears streaming down my face. I mean, just a few months ago, I cried while watching Bolt. Yes, Bolt, the Disney movie. And I'm sure my face looked ridiculous. I remember sitting there thinking about it at the time; 1.) I felt great, intense sadness at Bolt's feelings of rejection and abandonment and also at Penny's despair that her best friend was gone, 2.) the sadness all around was completely unnecessary, so I was frustrated, wishing that I could clue both of them in and fix the problems, and 3.) I was studying my emotions and the whole situation as it was happening, and marveling at how involved I was and realizing that my emotions must be evident on my face and I felt the need to laugh at myself. So there I was, sad, frustrated, and wanting to chuckle, with my mouth twisting between a frown and a smile, my throat trying to gasp out a sob and a giggle at the same time, my eyes wanting to dance and resemble that of a sad puppy all at once.
Bolt is not what prompted this post, though. I am in the middle of rereading the Twilight series by Stephenie Meyer. I started in on the second book, New Moon, last night and finished it today. That is the most depressing book I have ever read, and for some reason I insisted on reading it a second time. And I imagine I'll read it again, many more times. Getting back to the point though, when I say it's depressing, it really is depressing. Last night, when I got to the infamous third chapter, I bawled as my eyes were moving across the pages, so hard that I was actually gasping for air. And through the majority of the book, as Bella was feeling empty and numb, so was I. Both times I have read that book I have plowed through it. It's so painful that a part of me doesn't want to, but I have to get out of that despair as quickly as possible, so I force myself to go on. This series seems to be particularly prone to dragging me in because of Bella, the main character and one narrating the story. I understand her so well. It's like I'm in her head.
While part of me wants to roll my eyes and laugh at myself like I did during Bolt, the other part of me says, "Don't be so silly. That's what stories are for." And I really believe that. That's a big part of the reason I'm an English major, because I feel passionately that literature has great value. And I want to stand up and fight for it when I hear people passing it up as something trivial. Particularly "kids' stories." The value of a fairy tale seems to have been lost by the world. It's just something to be used to keep a child entertained and then at some point you have to grow up and move on. *sigh*
I really need to research this topic more, the value of literature, and more completely form my thoughts and opinions. I imagine being an English major will help in that area, but I intend to do research on my own, too. I'm sure there are so many things that I've never even considered.
In the meantime, I'm going to finish the next two books in the Twlight series. I would start tonight, but I don't actually own the second and third books. I borrowed the second from a friend and I'm probably going to return it and get the next one from her soon. Unless I can get my hands on a copy of the third one sooner. I'll still return her book of course. I just won't borrow the next one. Which I'm sure you surmised, but my sentence wasn't clear on that point, and I feel the need to explain everything. As evidenced by the fact that I just explained my need to explain things.
I'm going to stop now, before I detract too much from the point of this post, which I fear I may have aleady done....
Saturday, May 16, 2009
What goes up must come down....and go back up again.
It's uncanny how extreme highs and lows often seem to come in pairs. It seems like the days that start out really great get really bad at some point and vice versa.
Today was one of those roller coaster days.
When I woke up this morning, my breathing was better. And I was happy. I still couldn't breathe completely normally, but it wasn't as awkward as it had been the night before. So I decided to just take it easy and watch myself. And while I was doing that, my favorite band that I feel like I talk about way too much, downhere, broadcast their show that they played in Denmark today. It was one of the greatest shows I've seen, if not the greatest. And that includes the times I've seen them in person, not just all the shows I've seen streaming on the Internet. I love the fact that they do that.
That was the exciting part of my day. I was dancing and waving at people and laughing and crying and talking to my computer, because I turn into a complete dork when downhere is in the mix. Or, a bigger dork, I should say. Seriously, since it doesn't happen very often, if you want to see me lose my mind and start squealing, you should come see them with me. Even if you didn't want to watch the band (which I doubt you would feel once they walked out on the stage) I would provide plenty of entertainment.
Anyway, the low came after that. It started raining, which seemed to be what initially triggered my difficulty breathing yesterday. And I went into the living room where the windows were open, which was a bad move on my part. But I guess it really wasn't all that bad, because it pushed me over the edge enough that I really had no choice but to go to the emergency room, and if it hadn't have gotten worse, I wouldn't have gotten checked out at all. So, feeling much worse then I had the night before, my family loaded up in the car and we headed to the emergency room. It's kinda overkill for four people to come to the hospital with me, but that's the thing with my family. We do things together even when we don't have to, or need to really. Now's the part where I'm supposed to say that it's embarrassing sometimes, but I can't say that. Because it's not. Because I love my family. And on top of that, I'm nearly impossible to embarrass. So it was cool that they came and sat at the hospital while I was in the back and a million people were filing through to see me and asking questions and pulling out their stethoscopes and telling me to take this and do that and x-raying my lungs and all that fun stuff. Except for my mother. She was with me for all but the x-rays, and my dad came back there a couple times. I'm happy they care enough to sit in a hospital for me, because hospitals are not the greatest places to hang out and I don't imagine they had a lot of fun.
Now that I can breathe, I'm happier again. And the fact that I can sing is icing on the top. Especially since I'm supposed to be singing in the morning and would feel like I would be leaving my friend Andrew in a lurch if I couldn't.
And now I need to get to sleep to recover from my lack of sleep last night and my excitement filled today. 6 AM comes really early.
Today was one of those roller coaster days.
When I woke up this morning, my breathing was better. And I was happy. I still couldn't breathe completely normally, but it wasn't as awkward as it had been the night before. So I decided to just take it easy and watch myself. And while I was doing that, my favorite band that I feel like I talk about way too much, downhere, broadcast their show that they played in Denmark today. It was one of the greatest shows I've seen, if not the greatest. And that includes the times I've seen them in person, not just all the shows I've seen streaming on the Internet. I love the fact that they do that.
That was the exciting part of my day. I was dancing and waving at people and laughing and crying and talking to my computer, because I turn into a complete dork when downhere is in the mix. Or, a bigger dork, I should say. Seriously, since it doesn't happen very often, if you want to see me lose my mind and start squealing, you should come see them with me. Even if you didn't want to watch the band (which I doubt you would feel once they walked out on the stage) I would provide plenty of entertainment.
Anyway, the low came after that. It started raining, which seemed to be what initially triggered my difficulty breathing yesterday. And I went into the living room where the windows were open, which was a bad move on my part. But I guess it really wasn't all that bad, because it pushed me over the edge enough that I really had no choice but to go to the emergency room, and if it hadn't have gotten worse, I wouldn't have gotten checked out at all. So, feeling much worse then I had the night before, my family loaded up in the car and we headed to the emergency room. It's kinda overkill for four people to come to the hospital with me, but that's the thing with my family. We do things together even when we don't have to, or need to really. Now's the part where I'm supposed to say that it's embarrassing sometimes, but I can't say that. Because it's not. Because I love my family. And on top of that, I'm nearly impossible to embarrass. So it was cool that they came and sat at the hospital while I was in the back and a million people were filing through to see me and asking questions and pulling out their stethoscopes and telling me to take this and do that and x-raying my lungs and all that fun stuff. Except for my mother. She was with me for all but the x-rays, and my dad came back there a couple times. I'm happy they care enough to sit in a hospital for me, because hospitals are not the greatest places to hang out and I don't imagine they had a lot of fun.
Now that I can breathe, I'm happier again. And the fact that I can sing is icing on the top. Especially since I'm supposed to be singing in the morning and would feel like I would be leaving my friend Andrew in a lurch if I couldn't.
And now I need to get to sleep to recover from my lack of sleep last night and my excitement filled today. 6 AM comes really early.
Friday, May 15, 2009
Just like breathing
In my life, I've often equated singing to breathing; I need to do both to survive, to be the healthy human being I should be.
So I find it to be interesting that as I'm sitting here struggling for breath, it's also a struggle to sing. I'm not happy about the difficulty in doing either one.
I don't know why I'm having trouble breathing. It came out of nowhere. The only conclusion I can come to is that it's an allergy symptom. A new one, because this has never happened before. I've been experiencing allergy symptoms something awful recently, but they've all been of the itching, sneezing, bloody nose variety. Those all but disappeared several hours ago. Right before this started. I was feeling pretty miserable in my itchy, irritated state, and was wishing that it would all stop, but this is no picnic either, and I'm starting to wish that all the itching and sneezing would come back if it would mean that I could breathe again.
So I find it to be interesting that as I'm sitting here struggling for breath, it's also a struggle to sing. I'm not happy about the difficulty in doing either one.
I don't know why I'm having trouble breathing. It came out of nowhere. The only conclusion I can come to is that it's an allergy symptom. A new one, because this has never happened before. I've been experiencing allergy symptoms something awful recently, but they've all been of the itching, sneezing, bloody nose variety. Those all but disappeared several hours ago. Right before this started. I was feeling pretty miserable in my itchy, irritated state, and was wishing that it would all stop, but this is no picnic either, and I'm starting to wish that all the itching and sneezing would come back if it would mean that I could breathe again.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Outmatched by a hook
It's funny how the smallest things can remind you of how weak you are and how much you need God.
(It's also funny how when I say "you" I mean "me" and you know that there's a story coming that inspired that statement.)
I have a lantern that's been sitting here in my room since I moved in, waiting to be hung up, and I decided today that I was going to finally hang it up. So I put it together, found a light bulb, found a hook and I was going to screw that hook into the ceiling and hang that lantern on it.
When I set my mind to something, I usually do it. The road to get there may not look exactly like I predicted, nor may the results be precisely what I was aiming for, but it gets done. I am way too stubborn and way too enduring for it not to.
So perhaps you can imagine my incredulity when I couldn't screw the hook into the ceiling. My ceiling is harder than I thought it was. And it just wouldn't go in. No matter how hard I tried. Something as simple as sticking a hook in the ceiling was a challenge that I couldn't overcome.
I was pretty disturbed by that, considering how insignificant it was. I started feeling kinda stupid because of how much it affected me. And I started to realize then how accustomed I am to things working when I decide they are going to work. Don't get me wrong, all kinds of things around me don't work. But I don't expect them to work. That expectation makes a difference. Usually, when that expectation is there, then I get the desired results. Rarely is that not the case. And that feeling of defeat did not sit well with me.
Hmm...sounds like I'm relying too much on my own strength, skill, knowledge, and abilities. Reality check, Emily. You're only human and you can't do everything just because you decide you're going to do it. And remember, the smallest things can trip you up.
Life lessons. They come in all shapes and sizes.
(It's also funny how when I say "you" I mean "me" and you know that there's a story coming that inspired that statement.)
I have a lantern that's been sitting here in my room since I moved in, waiting to be hung up, and I decided today that I was going to finally hang it up. So I put it together, found a light bulb, found a hook and I was going to screw that hook into the ceiling and hang that lantern on it.
When I set my mind to something, I usually do it. The road to get there may not look exactly like I predicted, nor may the results be precisely what I was aiming for, but it gets done. I am way too stubborn and way too enduring for it not to.
So perhaps you can imagine my incredulity when I couldn't screw the hook into the ceiling. My ceiling is harder than I thought it was. And it just wouldn't go in. No matter how hard I tried. Something as simple as sticking a hook in the ceiling was a challenge that I couldn't overcome.
I was pretty disturbed by that, considering how insignificant it was. I started feeling kinda stupid because of how much it affected me. And I started to realize then how accustomed I am to things working when I decide they are going to work. Don't get me wrong, all kinds of things around me don't work. But I don't expect them to work. That expectation makes a difference. Usually, when that expectation is there, then I get the desired results. Rarely is that not the case. And that feeling of defeat did not sit well with me.
Hmm...sounds like I'm relying too much on my own strength, skill, knowledge, and abilities. Reality check, Emily. You're only human and you can't do everything just because you decide you're going to do it. And remember, the smallest things can trip you up.
Life lessons. They come in all shapes and sizes.
I survived another year!
My birthday usually isn't a big deal. That's mostly been because my family has been poor my whole life, so special occasions have often looked like every other day of the year, to my mother's chagrin. She feels guilty about not having done something grand to celebrate the life of me and my brothers every year.
But to be completely honest, I'm glad it has turned out that way. It suits me, my personality. I get very uncomfortable when people make a big deal about me. I have no problem making a big deal about other people, but it's different when it's me. I don't get as uncomfortable as I used to, but there's enough of my former self-deprecating, lack of self-worth side left to make me shy away when I'm in the spotlight, and, honestly, start to feel guilty. Why do I feel guilty? Probably because I feel like I'm being selfish and should be doing something for someone else.
So yesterday suited me just fine. On top of all of the usual reasons, I was also happy to not have a million things going on because I'm still exhausted from school. I plan to take full advantage of every moment of rest I can during the summer, because I'm not going to get a whole lot. Actually, in keeping with the theme of not making a big deal about it, I almost decided not to write a blog about it. But I can't do that. I can't completely ignore what's going on, nor do I really want to.
Yesterday was a big one. Or so that seems to be the mainstream thought. It was my 21st birthday. I was at home most of the day. Nothing too exciting happened. My family and I went to church last night. We're starting to meet together every other week to eat some food, hang out, play some games, fun stuff like that and last night was the first night. That was my party. My dad told our pastor that it was my birthday, so he decided he wanted to try to embarrass me by leading everyone in a terribly off-key rendition of "Happy Birthday." ("Good luck with that," I thought. I may seem like the embarrassable type, but it's all but impossible to embarrass me.) I was sitting in a chair and he was standing over me, screeching in my ear and it was quite loud. But despite that, I think my mother may have drowned him out. It sounded to me like she was intentionally trying to sound like a tone deaf 6-year-old and those who have heard her know the volume she can put out. It was quite the experience.
There is another reason why the day seemed to fit so well. I rarely ever do anything conventionally. Some of that has been intentional, but usually it just seems to work out that way. There's just something about me that inherently makes everything I do, everything I participate in, happen differently than with the average person. I used to feel bad about it, and I used to try to fight it, but now I appreciate it. It makes life interesting and it's probably the biggest contributing factor to my sense of humor (which I think is pretty good) and my appreciation of/fascination with irony.
Yesterday definitely defied conventions. How many people go to church on their 21st birthday? I'm gonna guess the percentage is small. And how many people can say they still haven't tasted alcohol after their 21st birthday? Few, I'm sure. Now, when I say that I'm not trying to brag or say anything negative about drinking beverages with alcohol in them. I'm merely remarking on how unusual it is. Will I drink something with alcohol in it in the future? Most likely. Probably 100% likely. It just doesn't seem necessary at the moment.
I think my parents (mostly my mom) still want to try to do something soon if they can, probably take me out to dinner. But going out to dinner does nothing for me. I'd rather stay at home and eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and then do something creative. I've tried to convince them of that in the past, but we usually go out to dinner anyway. The best I've been able to do is get them to take me Chick-Fil-A, because I'd rather have Chick-Fil-A anyday than anything fancier. Maybe I'll be able to convey the message this year. I'll probably never say "No" outright. I'm the type to just leave hints and try to suggest something else and steer them in another direction. That's likely my problem.
All in all, it was great birthday. Completely ordinary, which is pretty extraordinary in my book.
But to be completely honest, I'm glad it has turned out that way. It suits me, my personality. I get very uncomfortable when people make a big deal about me. I have no problem making a big deal about other people, but it's different when it's me. I don't get as uncomfortable as I used to, but there's enough of my former self-deprecating, lack of self-worth side left to make me shy away when I'm in the spotlight, and, honestly, start to feel guilty. Why do I feel guilty? Probably because I feel like I'm being selfish and should be doing something for someone else.
So yesterday suited me just fine. On top of all of the usual reasons, I was also happy to not have a million things going on because I'm still exhausted from school. I plan to take full advantage of every moment of rest I can during the summer, because I'm not going to get a whole lot. Actually, in keeping with the theme of not making a big deal about it, I almost decided not to write a blog about it. But I can't do that. I can't completely ignore what's going on, nor do I really want to.
Yesterday was a big one. Or so that seems to be the mainstream thought. It was my 21st birthday. I was at home most of the day. Nothing too exciting happened. My family and I went to church last night. We're starting to meet together every other week to eat some food, hang out, play some games, fun stuff like that and last night was the first night. That was my party. My dad told our pastor that it was my birthday, so he decided he wanted to try to embarrass me by leading everyone in a terribly off-key rendition of "Happy Birthday." ("Good luck with that," I thought. I may seem like the embarrassable type, but it's all but impossible to embarrass me.) I was sitting in a chair and he was standing over me, screeching in my ear and it was quite loud. But despite that, I think my mother may have drowned him out. It sounded to me like she was intentionally trying to sound like a tone deaf 6-year-old and those who have heard her know the volume she can put out. It was quite the experience.
There is another reason why the day seemed to fit so well. I rarely ever do anything conventionally. Some of that has been intentional, but usually it just seems to work out that way. There's just something about me that inherently makes everything I do, everything I participate in, happen differently than with the average person. I used to feel bad about it, and I used to try to fight it, but now I appreciate it. It makes life interesting and it's probably the biggest contributing factor to my sense of humor (which I think is pretty good) and my appreciation of/fascination with irony.
Yesterday definitely defied conventions. How many people go to church on their 21st birthday? I'm gonna guess the percentage is small. And how many people can say they still haven't tasted alcohol after their 21st birthday? Few, I'm sure. Now, when I say that I'm not trying to brag or say anything negative about drinking beverages with alcohol in them. I'm merely remarking on how unusual it is. Will I drink something with alcohol in it in the future? Most likely. Probably 100% likely. It just doesn't seem necessary at the moment.
I think my parents (mostly my mom) still want to try to do something soon if they can, probably take me out to dinner. But going out to dinner does nothing for me. I'd rather stay at home and eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and then do something creative. I've tried to convince them of that in the past, but we usually go out to dinner anyway. The best I've been able to do is get them to take me Chick-Fil-A, because I'd rather have Chick-Fil-A anyday than anything fancier. Maybe I'll be able to convey the message this year. I'll probably never say "No" outright. I'm the type to just leave hints and try to suggest something else and steer them in another direction. That's likely my problem.
All in all, it was great birthday. Completely ordinary, which is pretty extraordinary in my book.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Animals
I have a secret....
Actually, it's not a secret. Pretty much everyone who knows me knows that I don't like animals.
Now, before you go thinking bad thoughts about me, I don't hate animals. There is a distinction between hating and not liking. I do not like animals. I don't like being around them, I don't like touching them, I don't like smelling them. I wish them no harm, and could never intentionally harm them, and I recognize that they are a great benefit to the earth and to people around the world, including me in an indirect way, but as long as I don't have to directly deal with them, it's better that way. If an animal is in need and I am the only one around to help it, then I will, and I will do my best to find someone else who can do a better job and give it the care it needs as soon as possible. I won't just leave it alone to die. And if an animal is harmed or is sick or in serious trouble, it genuinely saddens me. You can compare it to someone I don't really get along with, they're important, and alive, and have value, and I don't wish them harm, but I may not want to spend time with them...ever. Now that you understand that, feel free to think negatively about me. :)
Over the past year - a little less than a year, really - my family has acquired three pets: one cat and two dogs. Before these, we have not had a single pet since I was 3 years old. And I have been perfectly happy about that. But these guys all figuratively fell into our laps. And we live in a place now that will accommodate them, and I have a little brother who happens to adore animals, so my mother agreed to keep each one when they came along.
None of them actually live in the house, and for that I am thankful. I'm not the only one who doesn't want animals in the house. My mom, although she's fine having them around, doesn't want them in the house either. The cat comes in sometimes, but she's only allowed in part of the house, not the whole thing. And except for a brief period of time today, the dogs have stayed outside. I hope they don't come in again.
I got to thinking today (for about the hundredth time) about how none of them would be here if I was the one making the decisions, which then naturally led to me think about the future, when I have my own place to live, and my own children, and I will actually be the one making the decisions. And as awful as some people may think it is, I'm pretty sure my kids will not ever have pets. Until they are grown and no longer living with me, that is. I say this because, if my kids have pets, then I will inevitably be ultimately responsible for their care. And I can't deal with that. With the ones at my house now, there are four other people around, three of them being adults, that are perfectly willing and perfectly capable of taking care of them, and the responsibility of doing anything with them has only fallen on me a couple of times so far. That would be a different story if I was the mom with a bunch of little kids.
So call me a bad mother if you will, but that won't make me change my mind. And notice that I didn't say "never." Saying "never" can get you into trouble. It's possible that there may be some extraordinary circumstances in which my kids may have pets while they are still living at home, but the chances are very slim. That is still off in the distant future, so we'll see.
Actually, it's not a secret. Pretty much everyone who knows me knows that I don't like animals.
Now, before you go thinking bad thoughts about me, I don't hate animals. There is a distinction between hating and not liking. I do not like animals. I don't like being around them, I don't like touching them, I don't like smelling them. I wish them no harm, and could never intentionally harm them, and I recognize that they are a great benefit to the earth and to people around the world, including me in an indirect way, but as long as I don't have to directly deal with them, it's better that way. If an animal is in need and I am the only one around to help it, then I will, and I will do my best to find someone else who can do a better job and give it the care it needs as soon as possible. I won't just leave it alone to die. And if an animal is harmed or is sick or in serious trouble, it genuinely saddens me. You can compare it to someone I don't really get along with, they're important, and alive, and have value, and I don't wish them harm, but I may not want to spend time with them...ever. Now that you understand that, feel free to think negatively about me. :)
Over the past year - a little less than a year, really - my family has acquired three pets: one cat and two dogs. Before these, we have not had a single pet since I was 3 years old. And I have been perfectly happy about that. But these guys all figuratively fell into our laps. And we live in a place now that will accommodate them, and I have a little brother who happens to adore animals, so my mother agreed to keep each one when they came along.
None of them actually live in the house, and for that I am thankful. I'm not the only one who doesn't want animals in the house. My mom, although she's fine having them around, doesn't want them in the house either. The cat comes in sometimes, but she's only allowed in part of the house, not the whole thing. And except for a brief period of time today, the dogs have stayed outside. I hope they don't come in again.
I got to thinking today (for about the hundredth time) about how none of them would be here if I was the one making the decisions, which then naturally led to me think about the future, when I have my own place to live, and my own children, and I will actually be the one making the decisions. And as awful as some people may think it is, I'm pretty sure my kids will not ever have pets. Until they are grown and no longer living with me, that is. I say this because, if my kids have pets, then I will inevitably be ultimately responsible for their care. And I can't deal with that. With the ones at my house now, there are four other people around, three of them being adults, that are perfectly willing and perfectly capable of taking care of them, and the responsibility of doing anything with them has only fallen on me a couple of times so far. That would be a different story if I was the mom with a bunch of little kids.
So call me a bad mother if you will, but that won't make me change my mind. And notice that I didn't say "never." Saying "never" can get you into trouble. It's possible that there may be some extraordinary circumstances in which my kids may have pets while they are still living at home, but the chances are very slim. That is still off in the distant future, so we'll see.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
There's no place like home.
I just realized something today. I don't know why the revelation came at this particular time, because this has been the case for a while, but it just hit me all of a sudden. What, you ask? This: the idea of moving doesn't bother me anymore.
If you know anything much about my history, you probably know that I've moved a lot. A lot is an understatement. Well, for some people it may not be an understatement, but for many of the people I know it is. Early on, every time we moved was a devastating thing for me. I could think of few things that were worse than moving. I had to put all of my things in a box and rearrange them at a new place, and had to get used to this new place that I was living, and go to a new school, and meet new people, try to make new friends, say goodbye to the people I did know and would probably never see again, and it was just awful for me. We're talking about the girl who threw up when she started Kindergarten, who had to be bribed to just stand in front of the people at church for approximately a minute at about the age of 5(not say anything, not do anything, just stand there with everyone staring at me). New places, new people, new experiences, none of them were easy adjustments.
But somewhere along the way, I learned to adapt. I had to. I would have had a nervous breakdown if I hadn't of. Well, I actually have had a nervous breakdown or two (or three or four), starting with when I threw up in Kindergarten, but I would have eventually gone past the point of recovery and I would have had to have been committed to a mental institution, where I would shrink away from anyone who passed by and murmur to myself all the time. (That's obviously an exaggeration, but in reality, it's not much of an exaggeration.) Praise be to God that that didn't happen.
Now, this doesn't mean that I love moving, or that I'm looking to move anytime soon. It just means that the idea doesn't make me want to crawl into a corner and assume the fetal position. And that's a big step. If someone walked in right now and told me that I had to move, I wouldn't want to, to be sure, but I'd say, "Okay," and get the process started and look forward to what the future holds.
What got me started thinking about all this was my friend Andrew. He posted a blog today announcing that he, his wife, and their daughter are moving to Iowa. That's a good long way from here. He has been offered a position as the Director of Worship at a church over there. And I got started thinking about what it might be like if I was moving to Iowa or somewhere far away, and I realized that the idea didn't cause me any distress. Who'd 'a thunk it? By the way, you can check Andrew out in various places on the Internet: http://andrewadamsonline.com/ & http://www.myspace.com/andrewadamsmusic . He has a song up that you can listen to, should you choose to. This coming Sunday, I'm actually going to get the chance to sing with him one more time before he heads out, and I'm looking forward to it.
There's another occurrence that took place today that actually relates to this. My youngest brother started talking today about how he doesn't feel at home here at the house we currently live in. I've been there before. And I told him that I just had to learn a long time ago to feel at home no matter where I was, and no matter what the circumstances were. My family has always been together, and that is the most important thing, the thing that really makes home, home. I think that's related to the fact that moving is not such a big deal anymore, I've learned to be comfortable with whatever the circumstances are. Home is where I am right now, and if that were to change tomorrow, the new place I would go to would be home. And that extends beyond just the place I make my dwelling. I've also learned to be at home when I go visit other people. I used to feel so out of place at other people's houses, which made it really hard for me to enjoy people's company. But it's rare now that I ever go someplace and don't feel at home.
As I'm sure you can tell, home, finding home, has been something I struggled with for a long time. It was depressing. I never felt like I belonged anywhere, and if I couldn't feel like I belonged at the place where I lived, then where and how in the world was I going to find a place to belong. A lot of things in my life have helped me deal with that and have brought me to the place that I am today, but one of the things that sticks out the most is the song "Home" by downhere.
At one point, I claimed without hesitation that this was my favorite downhere song. I'm not so quick to say that now, but it's still one of my favorites. For the longest time, I couldn't listen to it without crying, because the message hit so close to home (pun not intended, but appreciated nonetheless). I could go through the song line by line and tell you what each means to me, but I'll just generalize the main point, which is that us Christians have a greater home to look forward to than anything we can find here on the earth. And to think about that was a huge comfort for me, and I had to remind myself that continually, because I kept getting bogged down in finding perfection here. And it was only when I stopped looking for that perfection here, that I was able to accept what I had, and be grateful for it, and be comfortable in it.
If you would like to read them, here are the lyrics:
We want to focus on what we can't see
But this scene is just a fading beauty
In this life, when sorrow steals our joy
We want to walk beyond our circumstances
But our feet run to our own advances
Would you be our way and lead your people on
Oh, Remind us that we have not reached home
Remind us that we have not reached home
Pull apart our good intentions
Break the walls of these dimensions
Paint a picture of our eternity
And we will sing the songs of Heaven
Be the chorus you have chosen
We need Your grace
To echo the saints and journey on
Oh, Remind us that we have not reached home (we have not)
Oh, Remind us that we have not reached home
And as the angels sing Your praises
Let us not forget Your graces
Which far outweigh a world of dreams
Would you remind us that we have not reached home
Oh, Remind us that we have not reached home
Remind us that we have not reached home (we have not reached home)
Oh, Remind us that we have not reached home
If you know anything much about my history, you probably know that I've moved a lot. A lot is an understatement. Well, for some people it may not be an understatement, but for many of the people I know it is. Early on, every time we moved was a devastating thing for me. I could think of few things that were worse than moving. I had to put all of my things in a box and rearrange them at a new place, and had to get used to this new place that I was living, and go to a new school, and meet new people, try to make new friends, say goodbye to the people I did know and would probably never see again, and it was just awful for me. We're talking about the girl who threw up when she started Kindergarten, who had to be bribed to just stand in front of the people at church for approximately a minute at about the age of 5(not say anything, not do anything, just stand there with everyone staring at me). New places, new people, new experiences, none of them were easy adjustments.
But somewhere along the way, I learned to adapt. I had to. I would have had a nervous breakdown if I hadn't of. Well, I actually have had a nervous breakdown or two (or three or four), starting with when I threw up in Kindergarten, but I would have eventually gone past the point of recovery and I would have had to have been committed to a mental institution, where I would shrink away from anyone who passed by and murmur to myself all the time. (That's obviously an exaggeration, but in reality, it's not much of an exaggeration.) Praise be to God that that didn't happen.
Now, this doesn't mean that I love moving, or that I'm looking to move anytime soon. It just means that the idea doesn't make me want to crawl into a corner and assume the fetal position. And that's a big step. If someone walked in right now and told me that I had to move, I wouldn't want to, to be sure, but I'd say, "Okay," and get the process started and look forward to what the future holds.
What got me started thinking about all this was my friend Andrew. He posted a blog today announcing that he, his wife, and their daughter are moving to Iowa. That's a good long way from here. He has been offered a position as the Director of Worship at a church over there. And I got started thinking about what it might be like if I was moving to Iowa or somewhere far away, and I realized that the idea didn't cause me any distress. Who'd 'a thunk it? By the way, you can check Andrew out in various places on the Internet: http://andrewadamsonline.com/ & http://www.myspace.com/andrewadamsmusic . He has a song up that you can listen to, should you choose to. This coming Sunday, I'm actually going to get the chance to sing with him one more time before he heads out, and I'm looking forward to it.
There's another occurrence that took place today that actually relates to this. My youngest brother started talking today about how he doesn't feel at home here at the house we currently live in. I've been there before. And I told him that I just had to learn a long time ago to feel at home no matter where I was, and no matter what the circumstances were. My family has always been together, and that is the most important thing, the thing that really makes home, home. I think that's related to the fact that moving is not such a big deal anymore, I've learned to be comfortable with whatever the circumstances are. Home is where I am right now, and if that were to change tomorrow, the new place I would go to would be home. And that extends beyond just the place I make my dwelling. I've also learned to be at home when I go visit other people. I used to feel so out of place at other people's houses, which made it really hard for me to enjoy people's company. But it's rare now that I ever go someplace and don't feel at home.
As I'm sure you can tell, home, finding home, has been something I struggled with for a long time. It was depressing. I never felt like I belonged anywhere, and if I couldn't feel like I belonged at the place where I lived, then where and how in the world was I going to find a place to belong. A lot of things in my life have helped me deal with that and have brought me to the place that I am today, but one of the things that sticks out the most is the song "Home" by downhere.
At one point, I claimed without hesitation that this was my favorite downhere song. I'm not so quick to say that now, but it's still one of my favorites. For the longest time, I couldn't listen to it without crying, because the message hit so close to home (pun not intended, but appreciated nonetheless). I could go through the song line by line and tell you what each means to me, but I'll just generalize the main point, which is that us Christians have a greater home to look forward to than anything we can find here on the earth. And to think about that was a huge comfort for me, and I had to remind myself that continually, because I kept getting bogged down in finding perfection here. And it was only when I stopped looking for that perfection here, that I was able to accept what I had, and be grateful for it, and be comfortable in it.
If you would like to read them, here are the lyrics:
We want to focus on what we can't see
But this scene is just a fading beauty
In this life, when sorrow steals our joy
We want to walk beyond our circumstances
But our feet run to our own advances
Would you be our way and lead your people on
Oh, Remind us that we have not reached home
Remind us that we have not reached home
Pull apart our good intentions
Break the walls of these dimensions
Paint a picture of our eternity
And we will sing the songs of Heaven
Be the chorus you have chosen
We need Your grace
To echo the saints and journey on
Oh, Remind us that we have not reached home (we have not)
Oh, Remind us that we have not reached home
And as the angels sing Your praises
Let us not forget Your graces
Which far outweigh a world of dreams
Would you remind us that we have not reached home
Oh, Remind us that we have not reached home
Remind us that we have not reached home (we have not reached home)
Oh, Remind us that we have not reached home
Friday, May 8, 2009
Creature of the night
I've been getting up by at least 7 AM most days for.....many months. It wasn't an entirely unpleasant experience, because I like the morning. Birds sing, the world feels fresh and new, and the whole day is ahead of me. I'm too much of an optimistic, "the world is my playground" type of person to not like the morning. But I am not a morning person.
I was reminded of that today. Having no immediate responsibilities to get me out of bed, I didn't get up until 10:30. And I didn't even really want to get up then, but I was tired of laying in bed. I have a need to be busy, even if my busyness isn't accomplishing anything important, but I do prefer to accomplish something important. So when I got up I started looking for something to do, and there were plenty of things to be found. The only problem was I didn't feel like doing anything. At all.
It was kinda weird at first, because I've been jumping up and attacking every day for a good long while. I can be a convincing morning person. So good that I apparently convinced myself. Over the past several months, if I was ever talking about it with someone, I would still say that I wasn't a morning person, but with getting up early like I did and being so exhausted every day that I rarely stayed up late, they were kinda empty words. There wasn't much conviction behind them.
So I was kinda thrown off for a minute, then I was like, "Wait a second...this is the way I've been most of my life. This is not unusual. What I've been doing over the past year of school is what is unusual." I just lost sight of that somewhere along the way.
So I just decided to not get all wound up about it, and just find something calm and quiet to do that didn't take much effort, and if I ended up being lazy all day, so be it. And that's what I did. Then, by about 5:30, as the afternoon was ending and the evening was coming, I suddenly felt ready to tackle the million and one things that I did not want to do that morning. And it's about 11 PM now and I feel more energized than I did all day. I remember this feeling.
I am such a night owl, much like I am such an introvert. The biggest difference is that I'm good at pretending like I'm a morning person, but I'm not very good at pretending to be extroverted. That requires more acting skills than I currently possess. But as far as where my energy comes from, it comes when I'm alone, particularly at night.
And this getting up early business was starting to wear on me. I did okay during the fall semester, meaning that I didn't threaten to fall asleep in class much. But this most recent semester was a different story. Even though I was sleeping all night, at least 7 hours, usually more, it was very common for me to get to the point that I couldn't hold my eyes open. And that makes me feel so bad. First of all, I miss important information when I'm drifting off to dreamland, and second of all, my professors deserve the basic respect of me staying awake and at least looking like I care what they have to say. (I fear that sentence seems to imply that I don't care what my professors have to say, but I do. I'm just saying, it's much more encouraging for them for their students, if they're not interested, to act like it. It's a big morale booster.) On top of that, I was falling asleep at home in the middle of the afternoon all the time. I did post a blog a while ago talking about some medication I was taking that was knocking me out every day, and once I quit taking that, I stopped falling asleep as much, but it was still common for me to nap. I've never been a napper. I quite dislike naps, truthfully.
So, for my sake, - physically, mentally, emotionally - it's about time for me to have a break from acting like a morning person, and get back to being up with the bats. Even when I don't get much sleep, I do much better that way. I have a feeling that every day this summer is going to be like today, except for Sundays, the days when I'm at church camp, and during the big get-together of downhere fans in July. On those days, I will be happy to get up early.
But for now, it's about 11:30 and I have stuff to do. I'm so happy that my room is cut off from the rest of the house and the stuff I do in middle of the night won't bother anyone else. It's a night owl's dream. :-)
I was reminded of that today. Having no immediate responsibilities to get me out of bed, I didn't get up until 10:30. And I didn't even really want to get up then, but I was tired of laying in bed. I have a need to be busy, even if my busyness isn't accomplishing anything important, but I do prefer to accomplish something important. So when I got up I started looking for something to do, and there were plenty of things to be found. The only problem was I didn't feel like doing anything. At all.
It was kinda weird at first, because I've been jumping up and attacking every day for a good long while. I can be a convincing morning person. So good that I apparently convinced myself. Over the past several months, if I was ever talking about it with someone, I would still say that I wasn't a morning person, but with getting up early like I did and being so exhausted every day that I rarely stayed up late, they were kinda empty words. There wasn't much conviction behind them.
So I was kinda thrown off for a minute, then I was like, "Wait a second...this is the way I've been most of my life. This is not unusual. What I've been doing over the past year of school is what is unusual." I just lost sight of that somewhere along the way.
So I just decided to not get all wound up about it, and just find something calm and quiet to do that didn't take much effort, and if I ended up being lazy all day, so be it. And that's what I did. Then, by about 5:30, as the afternoon was ending and the evening was coming, I suddenly felt ready to tackle the million and one things that I did not want to do that morning. And it's about 11 PM now and I feel more energized than I did all day. I remember this feeling.
I am such a night owl, much like I am such an introvert. The biggest difference is that I'm good at pretending like I'm a morning person, but I'm not very good at pretending to be extroverted. That requires more acting skills than I currently possess. But as far as where my energy comes from, it comes when I'm alone, particularly at night.
And this getting up early business was starting to wear on me. I did okay during the fall semester, meaning that I didn't threaten to fall asleep in class much. But this most recent semester was a different story. Even though I was sleeping all night, at least 7 hours, usually more, it was very common for me to get to the point that I couldn't hold my eyes open. And that makes me feel so bad. First of all, I miss important information when I'm drifting off to dreamland, and second of all, my professors deserve the basic respect of me staying awake and at least looking like I care what they have to say. (I fear that sentence seems to imply that I don't care what my professors have to say, but I do. I'm just saying, it's much more encouraging for them for their students, if they're not interested, to act like it. It's a big morale booster.) On top of that, I was falling asleep at home in the middle of the afternoon all the time. I did post a blog a while ago talking about some medication I was taking that was knocking me out every day, and once I quit taking that, I stopped falling asleep as much, but it was still common for me to nap. I've never been a napper. I quite dislike naps, truthfully.
So, for my sake, - physically, mentally, emotionally - it's about time for me to have a break from acting like a morning person, and get back to being up with the bats. Even when I don't get much sleep, I do much better that way. I have a feeling that every day this summer is going to be like today, except for Sundays, the days when I'm at church camp, and during the big get-together of downhere fans in July. On those days, I will be happy to get up early.
But for now, it's about 11:30 and I have stuff to do. I'm so happy that my room is cut off from the rest of the house and the stuff I do in middle of the night won't bother anyone else. It's a night owl's dream. :-)
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Emily's Favorite Things #2
I know you've all been waiting with bated breath, and it's finally here!
Emily's Favorite Things #2! Enjoy!
Emily's Favorite Things #2! Enjoy!
My friend Jesus: Part II
Like I promised, here it is, ladies and gents, part two!
Guess what Jesus did this morning....yes, that's right, he came back to life.
I have heard that so many times over the course of my life, that it seems like no big deal, like it's an everyday occurrence that people get up out of their graves and start walking around again. But if that were to happen today, it'd be hard to convince me. I wouldn't believe it was true until I saw it, and when I did see someone I knew to be dead up and walking around and acting like everything's hunky-dory, I'd flip and either think I was dreaming, or that I had inhaled some sort of hallucinogen. People just don't do that.
And that's what makes Jesus different. He wasn't a normal person.
This is the part that always gets me excited. The first part is excitement-worthy, from the standpoint that hey, someone suffered on my behalf. That's pretty amazing. But it's all wrapped up in death and hell, and those are sobering things, not things that make me excited.
But this part is about life. And the way the story is told adds to the excitement. It fosters such a great sense of discovery and wonder. Chapter 24 of Luke starts with these women who were close to Jesus going to the tomb with spices and things to prepare Jesus' body in the traditional Jewish fashion. And the reader finds out that Jesus wasn't there when the women do. You're like, "What? He's gone? Where'd he go?" And then you see the angels right when the women do, and they tell you that he is alive. Wow.
But we still haven't seen Jesus. We're just going on what we've been told. But then, a short while later, Jesus walks up to these two guys. Unlike with the women, the reader is privy to a bit of information before the men are, because they don't know it's Jesus. They don't recognize him. So you're sitting there thinking, "C'mon, guys! It's Jesus! You know him! You're standing there talking to him about himself!!" But before it gets too maddening, they sit down to eat, and it says that Jesus broke bread, and when he did that, they could finally recognize who he was. And to make it even more exciting, just as they recognize him, he vanishes. What in the world? For all you Harry Potter fans, looks like Jesus could Apparate. And then a little while later, as the guys are telling the disciples what all just happened, he uses his Apparation skills again, and pops up right in the middle of them talking. I think Dumbledore probably learned from Jesus.
But the most exciting part, is the point behind him coming back to life. This was the completion of what he set out to do. Like I mentioned in the former post, his death paid the penalty for sin so that we wouldn't have to. Then, in coming back to life, he broke the power of sin and death, by triumphing over it. Therefore, those who choose to accept his sacrifice, can live forever with him. Our bodies will die, because they are a part of the world and the world dies. But upon accepting that sacrifice, our spirits are born in Christ and will never die! Would have been nice for Voldemort if he could have grasped this concept. It's way better than Horcruxes.
All Harry Potter nonsense aside, how cool is that? Way cool, in my opinion. The coolest, even.
It seems kinda weird for me to be talking about this at this particular time. Easter, which is the time we specifically set aside to remember this event, was last month. But it's on my mind at the moment, and what's on my mind usually appears here. And the truth is, Jesus isn't alive only on Easter. So anytime is a good time to talk about his life.
There you have it, my friend Jesus. He is the entire reason I'm here, and the motivation behind the lifestyle that I live. I love telling his story, so even if you've heard it a million times before, I hope you enjoyed it again.
Guess what Jesus did this morning....yes, that's right, he came back to life.
I have heard that so many times over the course of my life, that it seems like no big deal, like it's an everyday occurrence that people get up out of their graves and start walking around again. But if that were to happen today, it'd be hard to convince me. I wouldn't believe it was true until I saw it, and when I did see someone I knew to be dead up and walking around and acting like everything's hunky-dory, I'd flip and either think I was dreaming, or that I had inhaled some sort of hallucinogen. People just don't do that.
And that's what makes Jesus different. He wasn't a normal person.
This is the part that always gets me excited. The first part is excitement-worthy, from the standpoint that hey, someone suffered on my behalf. That's pretty amazing. But it's all wrapped up in death and hell, and those are sobering things, not things that make me excited.
But this part is about life. And the way the story is told adds to the excitement. It fosters such a great sense of discovery and wonder. Chapter 24 of Luke starts with these women who were close to Jesus going to the tomb with spices and things to prepare Jesus' body in the traditional Jewish fashion. And the reader finds out that Jesus wasn't there when the women do. You're like, "What? He's gone? Where'd he go?" And then you see the angels right when the women do, and they tell you that he is alive. Wow.
But we still haven't seen Jesus. We're just going on what we've been told. But then, a short while later, Jesus walks up to these two guys. Unlike with the women, the reader is privy to a bit of information before the men are, because they don't know it's Jesus. They don't recognize him. So you're sitting there thinking, "C'mon, guys! It's Jesus! You know him! You're standing there talking to him about himself!!" But before it gets too maddening, they sit down to eat, and it says that Jesus broke bread, and when he did that, they could finally recognize who he was. And to make it even more exciting, just as they recognize him, he vanishes. What in the world? For all you Harry Potter fans, looks like Jesus could Apparate. And then a little while later, as the guys are telling the disciples what all just happened, he uses his Apparation skills again, and pops up right in the middle of them talking. I think Dumbledore probably learned from Jesus.
But the most exciting part, is the point behind him coming back to life. This was the completion of what he set out to do. Like I mentioned in the former post, his death paid the penalty for sin so that we wouldn't have to. Then, in coming back to life, he broke the power of sin and death, by triumphing over it. Therefore, those who choose to accept his sacrifice, can live forever with him. Our bodies will die, because they are a part of the world and the world dies. But upon accepting that sacrifice, our spirits are born in Christ and will never die! Would have been nice for Voldemort if he could have grasped this concept. It's way better than Horcruxes.
All Harry Potter nonsense aside, how cool is that? Way cool, in my opinion. The coolest, even.
It seems kinda weird for me to be talking about this at this particular time. Easter, which is the time we specifically set aside to remember this event, was last month. But it's on my mind at the moment, and what's on my mind usually appears here. And the truth is, Jesus isn't alive only on Easter. So anytime is a good time to talk about his life.
There you have it, my friend Jesus. He is the entire reason I'm here, and the motivation behind the lifestyle that I live. I love telling his story, so even if you've heard it a million times before, I hope you enjoyed it again.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
My friend Jesus
Jesus died this morning.
Not really. Jesus died a long time ago. And he's alive now. Why would he need to die again? The one time was plenty.
But in my reading this morning, he died. In Luke's account.
When I say what I'm about to say, I'm not trying to be holier-than-thou, or super-spiritual, because I'm not, so please do not take it as such. So, moving on...I read the Bible every morning and every night. It is literally the first thing I do in the morning, before my feet even hit the floor. And it's one of the last things I do at night before I go to sleep. I do the bulk of my reading at night, because I'm less distracted and my brain works better. I read just a little bit in the morning, and the point of that really is just to focus myself first thing...to have a little reminder that hey, God's with me, and hey, I'm living my life for him...or I should be.
Because of that, I don't usually give a lot of in-depth thought to what I read in the morning. Sometimes, to be honest, by the end of the day, I don't even remember what I read that morning. But when Jesus dies, it's a different story. No matter which of the four accounts of Jesus' life I read, when it gets to the part about him dying, I take notice if I wasn't paying attention before, or if I was paying attention before, I take extra special notice. And it's at least in the back of my mind all day, if not right in the forefront.
A lot happened in that moment. A lot that I don't even understand, and probably never will. But what I do understand, is that he died so that you and I wouldn't have to suffer the punishment for our sin. He took the punishment instead. For all of it.
That's why I pay special attention. That's the greatest thing anyone ever has of ever could do for me. And I am humbled every time I think about it.
That's why I live my life the way that I do, striving to follow God. He loved me so much that he suffered so I wouldn't have to. So in return, out of my gratitude and my own love for him, I want to live for him, I want to know him, I want to do things to let other people know how great he is. And then maybe they'll get to know him, too. It's the same way with so many people I know. I know a lot of incredible people and feel blessed to call them my family and friends. I feel so privileged to know them and get to spend time with them, and in return I try to do things for them, because I love them. And I'm always really eager to introduce them to other people I know. So it is with Jesus, only even bigger, because as incredible as all the people I know are, he's more incredible than all of them put together.
And that's why I start every day by reading the Bible, to give myself that reminder. Some days, it seems to be more effective than others. And I pray that today is one of those days.
By the way, this isn't the end of the story. It's just part one. I expect to be reading part two tomorrow morning, so I also expect to have another blog talking about part two tomorrow. Stay tuned, ladies and gents. It just gets better. :)
Not really. Jesus died a long time ago. And he's alive now. Why would he need to die again? The one time was plenty.
But in my reading this morning, he died. In Luke's account.
When I say what I'm about to say, I'm not trying to be holier-than-thou, or super-spiritual, because I'm not, so please do not take it as such. So, moving on...I read the Bible every morning and every night. It is literally the first thing I do in the morning, before my feet even hit the floor. And it's one of the last things I do at night before I go to sleep. I do the bulk of my reading at night, because I'm less distracted and my brain works better. I read just a little bit in the morning, and the point of that really is just to focus myself first thing...to have a little reminder that hey, God's with me, and hey, I'm living my life for him...or I should be.
Because of that, I don't usually give a lot of in-depth thought to what I read in the morning. Sometimes, to be honest, by the end of the day, I don't even remember what I read that morning. But when Jesus dies, it's a different story. No matter which of the four accounts of Jesus' life I read, when it gets to the part about him dying, I take notice if I wasn't paying attention before, or if I was paying attention before, I take extra special notice. And it's at least in the back of my mind all day, if not right in the forefront.
A lot happened in that moment. A lot that I don't even understand, and probably never will. But what I do understand, is that he died so that you and I wouldn't have to suffer the punishment for our sin. He took the punishment instead. For all of it.
That's why I pay special attention. That's the greatest thing anyone ever has of ever could do for me. And I am humbled every time I think about it.
That's why I live my life the way that I do, striving to follow God. He loved me so much that he suffered so I wouldn't have to. So in return, out of my gratitude and my own love for him, I want to live for him, I want to know him, I want to do things to let other people know how great he is. And then maybe they'll get to know him, too. It's the same way with so many people I know. I know a lot of incredible people and feel blessed to call them my family and friends. I feel so privileged to know them and get to spend time with them, and in return I try to do things for them, because I love them. And I'm always really eager to introduce them to other people I know. So it is with Jesus, only even bigger, because as incredible as all the people I know are, he's more incredible than all of them put together.
And that's why I start every day by reading the Bible, to give myself that reminder. Some days, it seems to be more effective than others. And I pray that today is one of those days.
By the way, this isn't the end of the story. It's just part one. I expect to be reading part two tomorrow morning, so I also expect to have another blog talking about part two tomorrow. Stay tuned, ladies and gents. It just gets better. :)
Monday, May 4, 2009
Feelings...nothing more than feelings
I feel the need to blog, but I don't really know what to say...
I feel all I can say is how good I feel, and what's interesting about that? While I said recently that I don't primarily blog for people to read, I do give it some consideration and I don't really think a post that resembles something like, "Yay! Yay! Yay!, " etc., all the way down the page would be interesting reading material....
Emotions are funny things.
I tend to stay in the middle and lean over to the happy, postive side most of the time. Lately I've been leaning further over to the happy, positive side than on average: school is almost out for the summer; it's spring, and summer's almost here, which in my life always means lots of fun!; I've spent lots of time lately with really great people that I love dearly; I went to Indiana yesterday to see a friend be ordained, and the service was beautiful; all those visits with people have meant road trips!; and I have the most amazing friends and family ever! Oh, and as cheesy and ridiculous as it may sound, God is good, and Jesus loves me. I don't know why it sounds ridiculous to say that, because it's not ridiculous at all, and it's the greatest reason I will ever have to be happy. And I've been more aware of it lately than I am most of the time.
But...my logical/philosophical/analytical side is trying to ruin my fun. Just as soon as I start feeling giddy, it pulls me back and says, "Hold on a minute...are you getting a little too carried away with your emotions? Because we can't have that. Letting emotions overtake you is not a good thing." So I stop and examine myself. And I ask another question..."Are emotions really as bad as I, and so many others, make them out to be?"
I believe that emotions have a place. We feel for a reason. They can help us know when something is wrong. They can motivate us to do something about what's wrong, if we need to do something. When we feel great sadness, they can help us appreciate the good, happy things even more. More than that, they make life interesting! We'd be really, really, dull if we didn't feel anything. Life would have no point, really.
But they can't control us. Because then we do stupid things. Like yell at people. Say things we don't mean. Get depressed when things really aren't that bad. Become drama queens. (Yes, guys, you, too.) (Wow, that sentence just had a comma between every word...) It's not pretty. (Emotions that reign supreme, that is, not my comma filled sentence.)
And that's where my cautionary question comes from. That ugliness does not need to happen. But I also need to be careful not to suppress my emotions completely. It's that part of me that asked that question that keeps me in the middle so much of the time, emotionally speaking, that is. I rarely ever feel anything without examining it and picking it apart first. It's always like, what's going on here, and how should I feel, and what should I do with those feelings, to the point that they've all dissipated by the time I'm done looking at them. Which is often a good thing. I think it's what lies beneath many of my good attributes, like my patience, and my lack of anger, my ability to stay calm in stressful situations. But like I mentioned before, I fear that it makes me pretty dull sometimes. It's hard to find a balance.
With all that in mind, I think my happiness is okay right now. I can let myself smile and laugh, and say, "Yay! Yay! Yay!" until I run out of breath. We need more happy things in the world. But I just need to make sure that I check myself every once in a while, to make sure my head isn't in the clouds.
So....Yay! Yay! Yay! Yay! Yay! Yay! :-):-) :-) :-) :-) :-) *insert sound of me laughing here*
I feel all I can say is how good I feel, and what's interesting about that? While I said recently that I don't primarily blog for people to read, I do give it some consideration and I don't really think a post that resembles something like, "Yay! Yay! Yay!, " etc., all the way down the page would be interesting reading material....
Emotions are funny things.
I tend to stay in the middle and lean over to the happy, postive side most of the time. Lately I've been leaning further over to the happy, positive side than on average: school is almost out for the summer; it's spring, and summer's almost here, which in my life always means lots of fun!; I've spent lots of time lately with really great people that I love dearly; I went to Indiana yesterday to see a friend be ordained, and the service was beautiful; all those visits with people have meant road trips!; and I have the most amazing friends and family ever! Oh, and as cheesy and ridiculous as it may sound, God is good, and Jesus loves me. I don't know why it sounds ridiculous to say that, because it's not ridiculous at all, and it's the greatest reason I will ever have to be happy. And I've been more aware of it lately than I am most of the time.
But...my logical/philosophical/analytical side is trying to ruin my fun. Just as soon as I start feeling giddy, it pulls me back and says, "Hold on a minute...are you getting a little too carried away with your emotions? Because we can't have that. Letting emotions overtake you is not a good thing." So I stop and examine myself. And I ask another question..."Are emotions really as bad as I, and so many others, make them out to be?"
I believe that emotions have a place. We feel for a reason. They can help us know when something is wrong. They can motivate us to do something about what's wrong, if we need to do something. When we feel great sadness, they can help us appreciate the good, happy things even more. More than that, they make life interesting! We'd be really, really, dull if we didn't feel anything. Life would have no point, really.
But they can't control us. Because then we do stupid things. Like yell at people. Say things we don't mean. Get depressed when things really aren't that bad. Become drama queens. (Yes, guys, you, too.) (Wow, that sentence just had a comma between every word...) It's not pretty. (Emotions that reign supreme, that is, not my comma filled sentence.)
And that's where my cautionary question comes from. That ugliness does not need to happen. But I also need to be careful not to suppress my emotions completely. It's that part of me that asked that question that keeps me in the middle so much of the time, emotionally speaking, that is. I rarely ever feel anything without examining it and picking it apart first. It's always like, what's going on here, and how should I feel, and what should I do with those feelings, to the point that they've all dissipated by the time I'm done looking at them. Which is often a good thing. I think it's what lies beneath many of my good attributes, like my patience, and my lack of anger, my ability to stay calm in stressful situations. But like I mentioned before, I fear that it makes me pretty dull sometimes. It's hard to find a balance.
With all that in mind, I think my happiness is okay right now. I can let myself smile and laugh, and say, "Yay! Yay! Yay!" until I run out of breath. We need more happy things in the world. But I just need to make sure that I check myself every once in a while, to make sure my head isn't in the clouds.
So....Yay! Yay! Yay! Yay! Yay! Yay! :-):-) :-) :-) :-) :-) *insert sound of me laughing here*
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