tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3733117852818327422012-02-01T14:06:29.877-06:00"...Trust steadily in God, hope unswervingly, love extravagantly...." - 1 Corinthians 13:13Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.comBlogger2521100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-22779135197329362932012-01-28T15:58:00.002-06:002012-01-28T15:58:39.754-06:00

One of the reasons I read as much as I do, is that I routinely find things that arouse excitement. Check out this excerpt from the story of Solomon, Ancient King of Israel: "...God said [to Solomon], 'Ask what I should give you.' And Solomon said, 'You have shown great and steadfast love to your servant my father David, because he walked before you in faithfulness, in righteousness, and in

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-5143186309962084382012-01-26T18:57:00.000-06:002012-01-26T18:57:16.468-06:00

I'm not often caught off guard by anything except face-to-face interaction with people. For whatever reason, interacting with other humans is a mystery I can't seem to conquer. There are moments when I feel I have achieved the impossible. I'm engaging, I'm warm, I instinctively know the appropriate things to say, and, more importantly, I instinctively know the appropriate things to say to

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-40905794389753116962012-01-23T22:56:00.000-06:002012-01-23T23:12:38.768-06:00

My last post featured an abstract something that I wrote. I don't really know what it is. Maybe it's a poem? I don't normally write poetry, but more surprising things have happened. For those of you who read it, to refresh your memories here appears the poem-piece-work-thing again. For those who who have not read it, here now is a chance to read it for the first time: Twin faces look out from

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-62917484176879851912012-01-22T18:26:00.000-06:002012-01-22T18:26:04.959-06:00

I suppose a writer can and does grow through filtering their own experiences through their own faculties without suggestion or influence from any other source. But it's been my experience that I often won't realize something until an outside source has gained my attention and placed a light on what was right next to me but darkened before that point, especially when wandering over rarely

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-49989604449335927272012-01-21T18:27:00.000-06:002012-01-21T18:28:17.798-06:00

Journals are good for writing messily. They're also good for writing things that shouldn't be posted on the Internet. Typically, the things that end up in my journal fall under one of those two categories. Thus, they stay in my journal. Occasionally, though, the fruit of my journal endeavors is something blog safe. Perhaps even blog worthy (in my mind). Such a creature appeared last week. I

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-8440882069981033902012-01-20T21:46:00.000-06:002012-01-20T21:46:11.980-06:00

I archived my book list from last year rather promptly, but I failed to muster the same initiative with my music list. Oops. It's still January, though, so I'm cool, right? Here the original page appears in its entirety, with added italicized commentary in parentheses. My brother and I made an indie film with the camera on my LG Vu. It's a money maker, I tell ya. See? As

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-84772761932324848572012-01-18T23:53:00.000-06:002012-01-18T23:53:50.671-06:00

When one develops parts of their life around the Internet, abandoning said Internet leaves behind a mess. Like all messes, this one either has to be cleaned up, or severed from one's life with brutal finality and left alone and ignored completely. I'm not a brutal severer. I have no wishes to disconnect myself from the three Ws eternally. Therefore I elected to start the cleaning process today.

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-15138980278273352022012-01-18T12:21:00.001-06:002012-01-18T12:21:55.507-06:00

Here in the Boro, at our cozy house in the middle of town, we now have access to the Internet! I can't help but share my joy. Everywhere. What this means for my blog, is that I expect an increase of posts, and maybe even an increase of organized posts. In short, more activity; with all hope, orderly activity. If we're lucky, interesting orderly activity. That may not thrill you at all,

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-78362684971232894942012-01-04T23:53:00.000-06:002012-01-04T23:53:21.221-06:00

While I still have the Internet handy and can spontaneously share what I'm thinking: I've been preoccupied with coupons lately. On the Tuesday after Christmas, half of the people who were here at my grandma's house were all sick. And the rest weren't really a bundle of energy either. So we spent the day watching TV. (As an aside, that was one of the most enjoyable days I have ever spent

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-23158842516883956412012-01-03T23:00:00.000-06:002012-01-03T23:02:56.405-06:00

Like I discussed in my last post, and like I'm sure you are aware without my informing you, 2011 is now complete. It was...a lot of things. In my world, one of those things, when looked at through a literature point of view, was productive. I started this list fairly late in the year, so when I did, I had a lot to add to it at once. Because there was so much from the start, I fostered grand

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-66814387796972800572012-01-03T00:09:00.000-06:002012-01-03T00:11:29.387-06:00

I'm kind of behind on this...but a day late and a dollar short seems to have been my modus operandi for the past six months, so I guess it fits. Here I go... I'm not usually one to make a ruckus about a new year. Time keeps moving forward and I don't often feel compelled to commemorate its passing. I'm the type who's too busy looking at where my feet are and have been to look far enough in

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-47755796663340342232011-12-21T01:52:00.000-06:002011-12-21T01:52:00.143-06:00

How to begin, how to begin.... Contrary to what my location says on here, I am not in the Boro. I'm at my grandma's house, about halfway between Conway and Vilonia in the grand state of Arkansas. I'm posting from my grandma's house because she has an Internet connection. My house back in the Boro doesn't. That's right...my grandma has an Internet connection and I don't. She's hardcore. (She

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-84015171959214186112011-10-11T17:36:00.001-05:002011-10-11T17:36:52.523-05:00

Waiting, waiting. Pressure builds. You'd think eventually the top would pop off. Sides are threatening to explode at their seams. Seams that I didn't know where there until their strength was tested. Surely there can't be anymore room? But there is. Always, it seems. I don't know from where it all comes. It's like someone put an undetectable extension charm on my life. I don't care so

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-90120226045775541982011-10-05T15:27:00.000-05:002011-10-05T15:27:23.560-05:00

I still got it. What is it I still have? (Other than a propensity to abandon formal grammar on occasion?) Packing skills. Relocation packing skills. specifically. After talking about it for a long time, my family and I are preparing to move. "Somethin's gotta give" has been our desperate prayer for a while, and as nothing has shown an inclination to give for a few months now, it has been made

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-65328260681125978272011-09-28T16:40:00.001-05:002011-09-28T16:40:43.193-05:00

I stumbled upon a perspective-altering realization last night. That seems to be happening on a regular basis lately. But this last one was particularly stealthy and hard to ignore. I realized that for a long time now I've been wishing I could have my life back. That necessarily implies that I had concluded that my life was gone. I also realized that I had not only concluded my life was gone,

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-65943112195953258342011-09-25T01:59:00.000-05:002011-09-25T02:01:05.335-05:00

And it's about time. Usually, when everybody's talking about something, I'm not. Sometimes - oftentimes - I don't even know about it. But when someone I know is at the center of all the chatter, I'm more than happy, eager even, to make an exception. I'm surprised it's taken me so long to post about this, actually. Marc Martel, guitarist and co-lead singer for the band downhere, submitted an

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-5214253339691598082011-09-19T23:37:00.000-05:002011-09-19T23:37:31.337-05:00

Do you like it? I've been wanting to revamp the looks of my blog for a long time. For one reason or another I didn't do it. Until tonight. It's not much but I think it makes a big difference. I hope it does, anyway. Again, I ask, do you like it?

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-2585408970619109702011-09-15T23:28:00.002-05:002011-09-16T00:59:38.853-05:00

I have a proposition. How about we leave the typical psychological/theological/spiritual/deep reasoning tone that pervades everything I write and talk about something less taxing on the brain? Like fashion.Seriously.I've spent much of today both taking a walk down fashion memory lane and shopping in my closet, so such matters have been on my mind.The stroll down the road of the past was triggered

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-79724526077402451642011-09-14T13:09:00.002-05:002011-09-14T18:02:55.624-05:00

I've started reading a remarkable book today. It's called Rees Howells: Intercessor and is written by Norman Grubb. The book is a biography about Rees Howells, a man from Wales who was born in the late 19th Century.I glanced at a review of the book that Google pulled up and the reviewer described the book as "a mess-up-your-life kind of book." I've only read five chapters and I am beginning to

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-74092056383592215092011-09-12T20:49:00.003-05:002011-09-13T16:54:31.761-05:00

I have thus far not been the kind of person who has fallen into the trap of unemployment equaling no life. Which in a subtle way is perhaps one of the reasons I'm not employed? (But that's another subject altogether.)Among the many things I've been doing with my life is something that I am tickled silly to be able to share with you all.Now announcing Centricity Nation!Centricity Nation is a

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-55172047337962560822011-09-09T20:53:00.007-05:002011-09-09T23:56:18.823-05:00

I've been thinking much about how I was raised and the ones who facilitated the said raising.As a person who emerged from the womb with practicality and willfulness in her bones, I had a certain advantage in matters of successful, efficient independent thinking and living over some in the world. For that reason, in the hands of a different kind of guidance I think I still would have spent my

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-82219837823003306652011-09-02T22:03:00.003-05:002011-09-02T22:48:16.971-05:00

Today. Oh, today. On Facebook, starting this morning and continuing on into the early evening, I campaigned, not fiercely but I campaigned nonetheless, to get someone to come to my house. My mom's been in pain, Calyn's been covered by the first week of school, Austyn, Adam and I have been stuck at home. (I would have included my dad in this sentence because he's been working like that proverbial

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-77434262595682368842011-08-31T23:24:00.004-05:002011-09-01T00:14:51.072-05:00

Latin. What comes to mind upon reading that word? Think about it. Let it fill your brain. Now hold that thought. Store it. But keep it close, as to facilitate recall momentarily. Washing dishes. What enters your mind after the leading of that phrase? Dwell on that a moment. It is now time to employ your recall. Remember what you thought when reading "latin." Compare it to what you thought after

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-8948277648218522442011-08-30T11:29:00.003-05:002011-08-30T11:51:48.596-05:00

Today, I am trying to plan meals. That sounds like a straightforward task, but appearances are often deceptive. When deciding what to feed the six of us, here is a list of all of the things I have to consider: - Some of us (and by "some of us" I mean "I") have a palate with the sophistication of a six-year-old living in a poor house. This translates into "Please, feed me Cheerios and peanut

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-78273980447229018722011-08-29T10:18:00.004-05:002011-08-29T11:01:52.499-05:00

As overused as the word "season" is, I can't think of a better one to use in this context. I think I go through seasons where one central lesson is forefront over all others. Like all worthwhile lessons, after each one's respective season it never disappears. But I think once it has penetrated deep enough to not be carried away by the latest wind, then that is the time when a new season comes and

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-31031086583482315702011-08-23T21:38:00.003-05:002011-08-23T22:48:22.485-05:00

Mulling over my unusual state of being tonight. This past May marked three years of my family and I residing in this house. Since I've been born, that's the first time this has happened. Before now there's only been one other time that I've even lived in the same town for three years. And that was the town I was born in, and left at the age of six (after having lived in four - wait, five -

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-74801217674647942322011-08-16T20:28:00.009-05:002011-08-21T22:21:03.929-05:00

Usually, when I blog I intend to finish it one sitting, or at least one day. Either way, I typically set out to post before I lay me down to sleep. When I have something to say, I say it and move forward with my life. This time, however, I'm writing with no intentions to post. Yet. I will post. At some point. If you're reading this, obviously that point has come. But I don't think the world needs

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-36231059972847842392011-08-10T00:36:00.003-05:002011-08-10T01:02:52.570-05:00

What I will be writing here is mainly a continuation of this post: http://extravagantlyloved.blogspot.com/2011/07/governor-or-on-letting-go-of-my-life.html. Bearing that in mind, I have further proof that I really have very little control of my life. And that I don't need to worry about anything. What's the proof? The Internet went out at my house a little while ago. Which is part of the reason I

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-16115456650788035192011-07-24T00:06:00.004-05:002011-07-24T01:39:09.066-05:00

There is a story I'd like to share with you fine blog readers, because it makes me excited.As I am currently without a way to use an iPod in the car, and I only have so much room for CDs, I turn to the radio more often than I would if a greater portion of my music collection for available to me while driving. However, there are often many things I'm not interested in hearing on the radio. How do

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-51028741521773444122011-07-22T00:58:00.001-05:002011-07-22T01:01:29.715-05:00

I included this as an aside in another post, but thought it also deserved a post of its own.Side note before I begin: I think up things that I want to write about often. I tell myself, "Maybe I'll get to that later." Which often means that I won't get to that later. This is unfortunate. But another reality in this situation is that because I think of so many things I want to write, and because

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-21298139411231137152011-07-21T20:36:00.004-05:002011-07-22T00:57:47.586-05:00

Side note before I begin: I think up things that I want to write about often. I tell myself, "Maybe I'll get to that later." Which often means that I won't get to that later. This is unfortunate. But another reality in this situation is that because I think of so many things I want to write, and because the gaps between each post are so wide, I often forget what it is that I have written and what

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-85506930203640501692011-07-16T00:07:00.004-05:002011-07-16T03:24:17.618-05:00

It's an overused metaphor, but it's appropriate for a word nerd such as myself and for the context, so I'll use it anyway: A chapter of my life has closed.For those who didn't know, the final Harry Potter movie premiered to the general North American public today (yesterday, technically, as it's after midnight). Also for those who didn't know, I really like Harry Potter and the imagined world in

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-12894436578658432282011-07-12T00:22:00.003-05:002011-07-12T13:59:36.655-05:00

"I knew the times would comeAnd now the times have landedWith sting and abrasion""And frankly, I did not planOn getting hurt today""Pain is the invitation to surrender all""I'm okay withYeah, I'm okay withWhatever happens""Write a book about the times that you've held your headIn your hands and you've criedFor poverty to end""The less I haveThe less I lack""I'm in a constant freefallWhen I'm

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-12057177272366537262011-07-09T20:58:00.003-05:002011-07-09T23:54:08.826-05:00

Another great year at camp has come and gone. Much of it was the same as always. In a good way. A kind of sameness that never loses its meaning and continues to impact those who experience it.But I also did something new. During the week with the teenagers I was assigned the job of teacher. Thank the Lord there were set lesson plans and that I know Bible stories pretty well. Performing with zero

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-74289359595399467952011-06-08T22:04:00.003-05:002011-06-10T00:49:39.943-05:00

Summer.Heat.Excessive heat.It's likely my least favorite part about the region where I reside. I could live without it.But there are perks. My favorite part: camp.Camp Formosa. I'm heading there tomorrow. My heart is overjoyed.To list the things I love about going to camp would be nigh impossible and I shall not attempt it. But one thing I feel is worthy of note is this: I love how, even though

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-41302778569570808892011-06-07T00:54:00.003-05:002011-06-07T02:15:12.593-05:00

I thought tonight I might get something "purposeful" accomplished. And I did a few things. But I was soon overcome with a desire to sing and that's mostly all I've been doing for the past hour and a half. That and entertaining a few sundry thoughts in between belted choruses.I said that life has been more business as usual than I expected. And that's true. There have been a few experiences in the

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-72481398020487851042011-05-27T18:55:00.004-05:002011-05-27T22:00:19.047-05:00

So...............I've graduated.And I don't feel any different.I don't feel like my IQ has raised 50 points. Or like I have any right to walk into miscellaneous social circles and extend some presumed authority on any given subject to persons not searching for it. Nor do I feel I've accomplished a mystical goal that only a select few individuals have the special makings to accomplish, thereby

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-37640578681107009602011-05-03T00:32:00.003-05:002011-05-03T01:20:50.755-05:00

Five days!Today, I finished reading the last novel of my college career. The number of assignments remaining for me to complete is dwindling rapidly. In the next three days, I have two tests to take and one paper to write. That's all.Tomorrow, I go to pick up my cap and gown.The reality of what is going to happen on Saturday is starting to sink in. I know graduating from a university is supposed

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-4488241483276564692011-05-01T23:22:00.002-05:002011-05-01T23:33:41.713-05:00

I just wrote this in my journal. It's presented here with the same formatting that I use in my journal, which is no formatting.It's May 1st, 2011. Big news just hit the public media. Osama Bin Laden is dead and the U.S. has his body. Please, tell me I'm not the only one crying. I do not condone all of the horrors that were instigated by him. It's appalling the evil that can be traced back to one

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-57224631917150414942011-04-25T23:31:00.003-05:002011-04-26T00:49:25.605-05:00

12 days until I graduate! Not that I'm counting or anything.Along with this blog, I often have thoughts about wanting to post online in general more. Or at least improve the quality/content of what I post. Aside from varied demands on my time I have one other big hang-up that impedes this from happening.Life is too spectacularly great. Or I'm too confoundedly happy. Or both.Why is this a problem?

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-31504389003679640542011-04-23T22:42:00.004-05:002011-04-23T23:23:31.966-05:00

Let's get some business out of the way. I'm a bad blogger. And one of these days, not only will I post more, I'm actually going to make it look like something special. Moving on.My chest and shoulders kind of look like a lobster.It's 11:21 PM. I'm tired. And I have to be up at 5:30 in the morning. I'd ask why I'm still awake, but there would be no use. I'm awake because that's just what I

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-41931866448937767712011-04-17T03:30:00.003-05:002011-04-17T03:50:01.411-05:00

Tonight I post only words that are not my own. Which is probably why they mean so much to me. Maybe they'll mean the same to you."Your Love Is Strong"by Jon ForemanHeavenly Father, you always amaze meLet your kingdom come in my world and in my lifeGive me the food I need to live through todayAnd forgive me as I forgive the people that wrong meLead me far from temptationDeliver me from the evil

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-5398859416508466452011-04-10T22:58:00.003-05:002011-04-10T23:18:07.809-05:00

Tonight I will be brief.I love spending time with people with wisdom. Which usually means spending time with people much older than I am. I particularly appreciate when that wisdom is not patronizing, recognizing that yes, I may not know as much as you, but no, it's not a flaw. I'm just only 22 and haven't had the chance to learn as much. But I'm willing to listen and grow.Spent the evening as

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-17470333718592766122011-04-09T02:20:00.002-05:002011-04-09T02:52:06.719-05:00

I haven't updated this in a while. For those who don't know, I'm graduating on May 7th. (!!!)I was talking to my brother recently about this whole graduation thing, and several reasons why I'm excited about it. One of the biggest reasons I shared with him was this: "I'm looking forward to graduating so I can actually learn something."This comment is not meant to offend anyone. Apologies to all of

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-52514463317721548102011-03-24T00:30:00.000-05:002011-03-24T00:31:15.679-05:00

Some things (which are really all rooted in some THING) I've been noticing about myself. (The aforementioned some THING is not necessarily a new revelation to me or my blog, but the more I think about it, the more clearly I see it in all areas of my life.)When I want to get up early, I often stay up late.When I know I can sleep as long as I wish, I often go to bed early.I have a fondness for

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-89113195727605700602011-03-14T22:26:00.003-05:002011-03-15T00:47:45.538-05:00

Now that I am on the verge of graduating, I have come to appreciate my life as a student more than I have before. It's similar to how so many people on the verge of death seem to appreciate life so much more than they ever did while they were in the midst of living it. Funny how that happens. Coming back from that digression, though, as much as I appreciate my position as student, there are still

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-16217795459698538202011-03-11T23:48:00.003-06:002011-03-15T23:09:20.445-05:00

I have every intention of writing something of substance on here at some point. Well-crafted texts don't just pour out of me like a faucet, though. It takes time and great care to bring them forth. I currently have neither an abundance of time, nor the energy to intensely care, thus that point is not right now.Right now I'm just a little bit happy, and I also feel like shaking my head at myself a

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-80914574984842245592011-03-10T00:08:00.002-06:002011-03-10T00:20:24.006-06:00

Home. It's a good place to be.I was away from home for 6 days this trip. That's longest I've been gone since Christmas. Saying it that way makes it seem like a long time since my last elongated period out of town, but it really isn't. We're only in early March.Getting back to what I was saying, I'm home. I'm grateful for that. I've been looking forward to getting back and being able to take a

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-1358678992868753182011-02-28T22:24:00.004-06:002011-02-28T23:21:21.547-06:00

I can hardly wait until the day I graduate! I'll have a degree! I won't have to write on subjects I'm not interested in anymore. I'll have time to do other writing, blogging even. I can sing more. I'll be able to start more swiftly conquering the stack of books I have waiting to be read. I'll also have more time to chip away at and eventually finish all of the various projects I've started and

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-11399501054690584602011-02-26T00:05:00.002-06:002011-02-26T00:35:59.998-06:00

I've seen suffering. Tragedy. As challenging as things have been in my life, I hear about other people every day who have to push through things much worse than I have ever experienced.Because of all of the tragedy in the world, I often find myself thinking that it would be an insult to revel in something good. I really don't want to be a part of the team that just won the biggest game of the

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-9735676662986819252011-02-08T23:23:00.003-06:002011-02-08T23:59:04.372-06:00

I love getting mail from Africa. My insides get a little excited when I see an envelope with the characteristic stamps lining the top.Why do I talk about getting mail from Africa like it's a common occurrence?Because that's where Snethemba lives. South Africa, specifically. Snethemba is the girl I sponsor.She's a delightful girl. Her birthday is next month and she'll be 16. She's very

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-73051210945413483832011-02-05T18:31:00.002-06:002011-02-05T20:31:06.559-06:00

I've blogged before about my constant need to be doing something, even if that something is having a conversation. Either my brain needs to be engaged, or my body needs to be employed in physical labor, otherwise I feel as though I will quickly go stir-crazy. This is why I rarely veg out in front of the TV (or even contemplate vegging out at all for that matter).Even with this propensity for

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-27397511195614778642011-01-21T20:53:00.002-06:002011-01-21T21:55:39.052-06:00

Camp has been a big part of my whole life. Thanks to my mom, I started going off to camp every summer before my long-term memory developed. As can be expected, I have a lot memories that have accumulated over the years. I'm happy to report that most of them are good ones and tonight I started thinking about one of those good ones from this past summer.As many people who teach and/or work with

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-4486316307884561752011-01-02T21:31:00.005-06:002011-01-02T22:42:18.817-06:00

Not so long ago, my thoughts about education were not far from Ebeneezer Scrooge's repeated refrain of "Bah, humbug!" I was going to school because I felt like I needed to, but I was done. As soon as I received my degree, that is. I was tired. I was burnt out. I tried my hardest and I still enjoyed learning, but so many of the attitudes that I found in formal education were such that I found to

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-56967537135251909602011-01-01T23:25:00.003-06:002011-01-02T00:44:54.688-06:00

It's January 1st, 2011. I'm ready to go back to school! Who's with me?I have less than two weeks to wait now. Spring 2011 at MTSU will begin soon. It's hard to believe that I have one more semester left before I graduate. But that's for another post. Once again, I'm looking forward to my classes for this semester, my last as an undergraduate.Here's the full list of my classes.Concert Chorale - As

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-18572186195986472512011-01-01T18:54:00.004-06:002011-01-01T21:00:19.888-06:00

In Fall 2010 at MTSU I successfully made it through my fourth semester of music theory and I breathed a sigh of relief. It was a long road that I began way back when I was 18 years old and a freshman in Fall 2006. As a music major, I started theory I in my first semester like most music majors do, followed it with theory II the next semester, then my education stopped altogether for a year. When

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-48352564188050599932010-12-08T22:44:00.003-06:002010-12-08T23:16:38.551-06:00

December 8th, 2010.Classes ended today.I'm really excited about that! My life is coming back to me.But this time in the semester always brings me sadness along with the relief. An end has come. I won't ever be in those classes again. More importantly, I probably won't see all of those people anymore. I won't see most of my professors on a regular basis, if ever, anymore. Most of my classmates

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-44820416638867537232010-12-07T22:32:00.002-06:002010-12-08T00:27:53.090-06:00

Significant things happen on a regular basis. One can never know what is going to unfold in the next moment. It could be life-changing.I don't know if you're like me, but most things in my life don't seem like a big deal at the time in which they are happening. I live my life, moments come, moments go, and for the most part, they all feel about the same. Life is ordinary. That doesn't mean it's

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-83100905026818450382010-12-02T11:23:00.003-06:002010-12-02T12:03:01.641-06:00

Remember what I said yesterday about maybe passing theory IV?I'm a little more unsure today. A little more than a little unsure, really. I'm trying to not count my eggs before they hatch, as they say, and not panic. Breathe in. Breathe out. Don't fret.Money has also been concerning my brain. My attitude about money usually runs something like this: "I need to get across town today and I have just

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-59488335938125185822010-12-01T11:08:00.003-06:002010-12-01T11:57:13.970-06:00

Things I am grateful for today (See, I told you I give little regard to convention):It's December 1st.It's kinda cold outside.It's Wednesday.I didn't do any homework yesterday.What is likely to be the hardest part of my semester is over.Finals start next Friday.The end of the semester is almost here.Christmas is coming.Jesus was born, which is why I'm glad for Christmas.It snowed yesterday. In

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-72817644098137409702010-11-28T20:58:00.003-06:002010-11-28T21:32:42.975-06:00

I think God specifically didn't want me to get addicted to caffeine, or ever even depend on it. I don't know why me and not other people. There are plenty of people addicted to caffeine. There are plenty of others who aren't addicted, but come to depend on it in a crunch. I don't know why I would be singled out from the masses.But I seem to be. Caffeine, while its highly stimulating to most, has

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-74096950603546409982010-11-25T22:55:00.004-06:002010-11-25T23:43:20.672-06:00

I am in the United States of America, and I realize what day this is in which I am writing. It's Thanksgiving Day. If I'm going to blog, there is an unwritten expectation that I should blog about the things for which I am thankful, or the subject of thankfulness itself.As I've stated before, I don't hold to conventions. Aside from that, I think I do a fair job of expressing my gratitude in other

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-41035795978214372662010-11-22T23:44:00.003-06:002010-11-23T00:45:46.474-06:00

I'm coming to learn that I am not a good spectator.I am constantly seeking for something to do. Even when I'm tired, and I feel like I need a break, my idea of a break is never go space out and don't do anything. It's more like go read a book, or go write, or go sing, all things which I find to be rewarding and fulfilling, and which are still active verbs.But I don't often find myself crying out

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-21743638154148124572010-11-20T23:37:00.003-06:002010-11-21T01:26:04.225-06:00

It's the weekend and I'm home. And I'm not going anywhere else before the weekend is over. Wow.I started wondering to myself just how many days this year I've been away from home. This is what I came up with.January - This month is kinda fuzzy , but I know I came home from Arkansas sometime after New Years', so that's 2 or 3 days away from home.February - 2 days spent away for a trip to Marion,

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-13917874212230479132010-11-17T01:55:00.003-06:002010-11-17T02:22:47.059-06:00

I've been considering the evolution of my life as my own.When I was a child, like most children, I didn't do very much away from my parents. And even when I was away from my parents, like most children with siblings, I was away from them even less than my parents, because whenever parents are busy, they usually send their children off together to be taken care of by someone else. But back to

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-70086048110459888012010-11-15T09:02:00.007-06:002010-11-17T01:54:26.577-06:00

I had an interesting weekend.Not only did I see over a dozen good friends, visit the land of cheese heads, see Chicago for the first time, and travel farther north than I've ever been before, everything that could wrong, did go wrong. And I wasn't the only one who seemed to be getting hit from all sides. My friends were under a lot of pressure too. They could all tell their own stories. I'll just

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-32415131370641017382010-11-09T23:35:00.002-06:002010-11-10T00:05:59.108-06:00

When I say this, please know that I don't mean to have a judgmental attitude. I'm willing to be enlightened.I don't really get euphemisms. Why not call something what it is, rather than dancing around the subject, even when everyone knows what you mean anyway?The one that I've been thinking about the most lately is "passed away." I think for some people it's a force of habit. They've heard it all

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-18503584476646619062010-11-06T21:49:00.002-05:002010-11-06T22:20:03.622-05:00

If you've regularly read my posts, or if you keep up with my social network presence (or if you've actually talked to me in person, which is something I actually still do surprisingly often), and you haven't noticed that my life is busy, then I must not be doing a very good job of representing myself well. Because my life is busy.And I like it. It's rich and full. There's no room for boredom,

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-44061733079208987102010-11-03T00:00:00.003-05:002010-11-03T00:11:56.085-05:00

My classmates in my Bible as Literature class and I were charged by our professor to write our own versions of Song of Solomon. Here is what I came up with. (I apologize in advance if it's not erotic enough for some of you. :) I tend to fall on the side of sentimentality.)"Hey, love, you are perfectYour hair makes me jealous it puts my extended waves to shameYour eyes sparkle like the Emerald

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-67878502610002550352010-10-29T21:13:00.002-05:002010-10-29T22:30:15.910-05:00

For all of my life, I have been a nerd. And a geek. All of those fun four-letter words (in many cases intended to be derogatory just like those other four-letter words). Add to that the facts that I'm introverted, I was once so shy it was immobilizing and anxiety-inducing, I went to church and prayed all the time, and didn't watch horror movies, I've often been on the edge of societal circles.As

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-14842969447490725652010-10-25T20:57:00.003-05:002010-10-25T21:54:31.240-05:00

I've been thinking a lot about the church.The church is one of my favorite things.And I don't mean going to church. I'm not talking about a place. Or something you do. I mean people. The body of Christ. All of us, everywhere around the world. It's truly remarkable.Why? Because Jesus is remarkable. And that's what the body of Christ is supposed to be, Jesus. We are Jesus to each other, to the

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-2275944176728238052010-10-20T20:37:00.002-05:002010-10-20T21:41:31.987-05:00

Something monumental happened in my world today.No, nobody died. I didn't fall in love and pick a day for a wedding in the spring. No money fell in my lap. I didn't get 100% on a music theory test.What did happen?I used a hashtag on Twitter.I'm probably the only one shocked by this. Allow me to provide some background information, then maybe you too will be, if not shocked, at least appreciative

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-72981251165877819272010-10-15T01:26:00.002-05:002010-10-15T01:50:20.877-05:00

I don't know what possesses me sometimes.It's 1:26 AM. I'm in the kitchen.I just had to bake. Really. It was essential.So at 10:00 PM, I started blending my first concoction, pumpkin muffins.That wasn't so bad. Whip those up, put them in the muffin tin. Took me about an hour.11:00 PM. That's still a decent time to go to bed. For me, early even.But I wanted cookies. What kind of cookies to make?

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-46972411710429240942010-10-13T00:08:00.002-05:002010-10-13T01:23:59.643-05:00

Last week, my classmates and I were chatting before our Bible as literature class, in which we were scheduled to have a test. I was conversing with two of my classmates and we all expressed a similar inability to study. One of my classmates then postulated that that, our poor study habits, is why we're English majors.That got the gears in my brain to turning. She has a point. As English students,

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-68079699204888700872010-10-02T22:49:00.003-05:002010-10-03T00:48:18.051-05:00

Before I get to my point, I need to set this up.9 times out of 10 (or some other approximate ratio because I don't really know the true statistics, but it just happens a lot and that phrase has become a conventional way to say "a lot") I'm inspired to blog when I have interacted with people, whether it be in person, or online, on the phone, etc. My friend Kaitlyn gets credit for inspiring this

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-62811943901391247612010-09-29T21:06:00.004-05:002010-09-29T22:26:47.916-05:00

My life has been such that it has consistently inspired one question: why? A question that is simply phrased, but whose answers are more often than not complicated.One of the most recent and significant situations that inspired the asking of this question was the changing of my major from music industry to English.I felt like God let me know that this was what I needed to do. I couldn't begin to

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-51230746657791667012010-09-17T00:57:00.002-05:002010-09-17T01:07:17.362-05:00

A recent prayer I penned:I feel like Paul a lot, in Romans 7. Never exactly doing what I want to do. Consistently doing what I don't want to do. Help me. Save me from myself. What I want to do is love people. What I want to do is live a story. What I want to do is be honest. What I want to do is be vulnerable. What I want to do is bring you glory. What I want to do is have people look at me and

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-3908570006434442222010-09-12T22:53:00.004-05:002010-09-12T23:27:02.672-05:00

Aside from some small, brief moments of panic that I experienced the first week, school this semester has been going extraordinarily well. Hallelujah. I haven't felt overwhelmed, I haven't felt like I'm on the edge of a nervous breakdown, I actually feel like the majority of the work I've been doing is greatly enriching my life, rather than draining it out of me. I can't express how grateful I

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-50899061349233077112010-09-12T00:32:00.003-05:002010-09-12T00:46:01.651-05:00

Ever present on my mind is what I'm going to do with my life. I always hope that I'm not being neglectful in this area, but at the same time, I understand the virtue in not worrying and being content to just take one step at a time as it is made apparent to me, and not feel anxious for anymore than that.But as I said initially, while I'm not worrying, I do wonder where my life is headed. What

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-10158254597584419762010-09-06T20:52:00.004-05:002010-09-06T21:57:21.096-05:00

My last post, earlier on this same day, was on an essay I wrote for my linguistics class. My professor wanted us to write a linguistic autobiography; basically what our experience with language is, what we have thought about it, and so forth.I don't know if anyone else who has seen it thought this, but after finishing it and reading through it as a whole completed work, I sounded a lot more

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-49815216786697254362010-09-06T14:35:00.003-05:002010-09-06T15:02:41.282-05:00

This is an essay I just wrote for my linguistics class. It seemed like something fitting to post here, likely because of the autobiographical nature. It's much more like the blogs I typically post than the academic essays I typically write. You all get the chance to read it before my professor. You should count yourselves privileged. ;-) Here it is: Linguistic AutobiographyFor as long as I can

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-1286977803856120882010-09-05T23:46:00.004-05:002010-09-06T00:27:54.347-05:00

As I have mentioned in recent writings, I went back to school this past week. It was simultaneously great in blessing and in trouble and frustration.My classes themselves were amazing. I really think I'm going to like this semester. Each subject is fascinating and I have an exceptional group of professors.But everything else hasn't turned out so well. The greatest evidence of that is that it's

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-2673597978085332832010-09-04T20:48:00.002-05:002010-09-04T21:49:47.457-05:00

To some of you, my next statement, or rather the one I am preparing you for, may be shocking. But to look at things in a positive light, that may not be an entirely bad thing. We can look at shock as something to get our attention, to change us in some way, change our perspective, change how we feel, make us more aware of realities around us. Anyway, I digress. What is this statement I am so

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-46363450184862699442010-09-03T21:22:00.003-05:002010-09-03T22:40:36.653-05:00

I'm getting the road trip itch again.This time, it's not because I haven't journeyed more than 50 miles from my house in the past two weeks (was it really just two weeks ago that I spent more than 8 hours in my car?). It's because of a new gadget I acquired this evening.I am now a proud owner of a Magellan Roadmate 1212. That's a GPS, for those who don't know. I haven't played with it much yet

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-66092479914655766432010-09-02T23:47:00.004-05:002010-09-03T00:57:41.913-05:00

I think, maybe, I've figured out at least one of the reasons I light up at night and find it to be such a delightful time to be conscious and busy doing things.I constantly feel responsible for other people. This does not always translate into me actively taking care of them or doing things for them. Rather, it means that I'm always thinking about them, trying to be aware of any moment when I do

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-52300411463041396612010-08-30T21:18:00.002-05:002010-08-30T22:19:51.646-05:00

I think I'm going to like Mondays.Music Mondays is what I should call them this semester, I think. All I have the first day of the work week is music theory and choir. Two hours in class. That's it. And one of them is super simple. All I do is sit there and sing. Oh frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!I think the best part of my day was music theory. I have my original theory professor again this

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-90552275260155653102010-08-29T22:55:00.003-05:002010-08-29T23:58:15.799-05:00

I get to go to school tomorrow!I've been plastering that phrase all over the Internet and thought it was worth repeating here.Can you tell I'm excited? I'm afraid my exclamation point might be a little too subtle. Please know that I am burgeoning with glee.Not only am I excited because I'm a nerd who gets a thrill at the idea of buying textbooks, but I'm also particularly pleased (thus far) with

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-84277561907963610002010-08-28T22:48:00.003-05:002010-08-29T00:36:56.818-05:00

From the age of 15 to 17, a time in my life where I was the most isolated I have been thus far and commonly would not walk out of my abode for a week at a time (not even to get the mail), if someone would have described a typical month in the world of Emily Lynn just a few years later, my eyebrows would have raised in surprise and I would have eagerly anticipated the day when I could have a

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-68036372675745705212010-08-11T01:55:00.002-05:002010-08-11T03:05:04.586-05:00

I am in the middle of my annual reread of J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter series.It's taken me much longer to get through than I anticipated. I've been far busier this summer than I imagined I would be. And with less than three weeks left until school starts, I looked at where I was in the story (in the middle of the fourth book, with three of the biggest books I have ever read to go after it) and

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-45857519711543186792010-08-03T23:47:00.003-05:002010-08-04T01:11:42.844-05:00

This evening, I had one of the most shocking experiences of my life.I brushed my finger against an exposed outlet. The outlet where our oven is supposed to plug in. In a split-second my arm started to feel like jelly and I knew something was amiss.This wasn't my first intimate encounter with electricity, but I think it may have been one of the worst.The funny (?) thing is that most jolts I've

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-61783938955546973842010-08-02T00:31:00.002-05:002010-08-02T01:06:58.749-05:00

My life is pretty great.At least that's how I feel most days.But I haven't always felt that way.If you're looking for stories of sadness, I have some. Personal betrayal? I'm familiar with that too. Confusion, insecurity, heartache, insignificance, none of these are completely foreign.But by the grace of God, none of those things overshadow my current state of existence.There are plenty of people,

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-8057404964129298332010-07-30T18:15:00.004-05:002010-07-31T00:05:26.849-05:00

Most people who know anything about me know that I sing. Not only do I like to, I actually think I have some measure of skill. And from what I have gathered, others agree, because they haven't told me to shut my mouth yet and even go beyond that to keep asking me to open it back up. Thank you.But there are some people and some performances out there that make me feel like what I do is nothing

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-78367876705374132642010-07-26T12:09:00.003-05:002010-07-30T00:15:21.360-05:00

Much of my life has been a work in forcibly ridding me of compulsions, attempts to order my life, and needs that were never really needs to begin with, but which I felt were essential to my existence.I've talked before about what a strange child I was. Here's another reason to add to the list. Not too terribly long ago, there was a long list of things that I thought I had to do just so, or.....I

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-79951838450222725432010-07-23T23:35:00.002-05:002010-07-24T01:38:37.335-05:00

I've been contemplating sin.Surely, there are more joyful things I could be thinking about, but such is my mind.Sin became a part of human existence when Adam and Eve gained the knowledge of good and evil.Before Adam and Eve were even created, good existed. The first mention of good is in Genesis 1:4, when God created light. Presumably, evil existed as well.I always kind of assumed without

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-37682995134810401732010-07-12T22:58:00.004-05:002010-07-13T00:54:32.480-05:00

"'Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you! See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands.'" Isaiah 49:15-16"The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged." Deuteronomy 31:8"For the Lord is good and his love

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-19321877693671846162010-07-05T20:18:00.002-05:002010-07-05T22:47:31.800-05:00

Any of you who grew up going to a summer camp with God at its center can probably relate to this in some way.You arrive there on the first day excited to be there again, looking forward to the time you're going to spend there. Perhaps you're thinking of all the fun you'll have. Hanging out with friends, doing stupid things that only make sense in the current context. Perhaps you've been

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-71144981188067676112010-07-02T22:31:00.002-05:002010-07-02T23:48:30.311-05:00

I'm pretty sure I've blogged on this topic before. But it's been a while. And I'm also pretty sure that I didn't say everything that I have to say now. So I'm going to visit it again.I used to feel pretty crummy about myself, my life. I didn't know why. In the full spectrum of quality of life on earth, I didn't have a terrible life. It was pretty good compared to many others. And as far as I was

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-7893169704614446902010-06-28T21:58:00.002-05:002010-06-28T23:13:34.849-05:00

First, I have to say that I can't say everything I want to say about camp in one post. So I'm not going to try. If I do what I'm thinking in my head that I will do, I will be writing a series of posts dedicated to different topics surrounding camp on which I wish to focus, but we'll see if that happens. Now that that's out of the way....Camp Formosa 2010 is now behind us. It was a great year. It

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-62484571062835643072010-06-10T00:11:00.002-05:002010-06-10T00:41:08.666-05:00

My one summer tradition is now close at hand.I have been going to camp since I was a baby, prior to my ability to be able to remember ever not being there. As far as my consciousness is concerned, it's always been a part of my life.Tomorrow begins my journey to Camp Formosa. Tomorrow night will be spent at my grandma's, then it's on the rest of the way to Formosa.I'm ready! Then again, I'm not. I

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373311785281832742.post-17880810529596022622010-06-03T23:34:00.003-05:002010-06-04T00:30:37.336-05:00

So...I need to get this off of my chest.My friends...how do I say this...my friends...make me feel terrible. I love them all dearly. Really, I do. I wish I could express how much I love my friends. But they make me feel terrible.They don't mean to do it. And I'm not angry with them. At all.It's just that they're so talented. I seriously know a lot of impressive people. Singers, dancers, painters,

Emily Harmonhttps://profiles.google.com/113650472490397784003noreply@blogger.com0