Les Miserables was a movie that I had wanted to see for months - Matt agreed to take me, and we decided that tonight was as good as any to go see it. I had seen SO many Facebook posts about how people cried while watching this movie, and I thought to myself, "Oh, I probably won't cry, and I won't make a big deal out of the movie." Well, guess what... I teared up, and I geeked out with my friends over video chat afterwards.
I think what makes this movie (and the story in general) so popular and so well-loved by many is that it doesn't guarantee a happy ending, it's more realistic, and many elements of it were incredibly relatable. I think what makes it such a great movie altogether was the fact that I saw a number of things that related to my own walk with Christ.
First of all, Jean Valjean (main character) was convicted of a crime and served 19 years in slavery/imprisonment for it. We are all slaves to sin, from the moment we are born. Even though Jean Valjean became a free man after he served his time, he wasn't really free. He had to carry a piece of paper that told others what he had done and who he was. It was his mark of shame. That's like sin in our lives - even though we can try to free ourselves from the bondage of sin, we can't. There is nothing we could do to ever get rid of it ourselves. It is the mark of a human being.
Jean Valjean then is saved by a kind and merciful priest who brought him into his dwelling and provided him with food and drink. Even though Jean Valjean tried to steal from him and was brought back to him by soldiers, the priest was still kind to him and freed him from the soldiers' hands (and the possibility of having to go back into slavery). That is like God with us - He is a loving, merciful God who, even when we fail Him and sin against Him, for those who are His, we are not only pardoned, but continually being loved no less than if we hadn't sinned against Him. However, also like the priest to Jean Valjean, God challenges us to go out into the world and be lights for the Kingdom in a very dark, hopeless world. Jean Valjean then becomes convicted of what he has done and vows to bring justice and mercy to the world and start over - "Jean Valjean is no more!" He puts his past behind him, and starts over.
Years down the road, Valjean becomes mayor of a town in France (don't remember exactly where) and owns his own factory, all under another identity and name. He treats all of the people who work for him and everyone else with decency, respect, gentleness, and mercy. He rescues a man from an accident, and a woman named Fantine from the life of prostitution, then vows to raise her little daughter. He is the model of how a true believer of Christ ought to act. Micah 6:8 says, "He has told you, O man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you, but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?" Valjean was always merciful and just, even to Javert who never paid him any kindness: the hardest to love and be merciful to. He was humble in his acts of mercy and kindness; he never boasted about anything he did.
Going back to Fantine, she is another example of one enslaved by sin, but in another way. She chose the lifestyle she lived, but after a point, she felt trapped and couldn't escape it. She couldn't escape it on her own; she needed help. Jean Valjean rescued her and got her to a hospital to be cared for, only for her to die soon after. However, she was free from the life she had lived, and the little bit of life she lived after he rescued her, was changed because of his kindness. Our mercy and kindness to others can change their lives and can be such a light to them, too, if we humble ourselves enough to help them.
When Javert told the mayor (Valjean) about him catching who he thought was Jean Valjean, Valjean debated with himself whether to confess and let the other man go free. He could confess and be condemned, or stay silent and be damned. He comes to the realization that he couldn't hide his real identity and his past forever and that he couldn't let an innocent man be condemned and live the life that he lived. His faith in God gave him the strength to be truthful even when it was incredibly hard to be so.
Javert is another character I want to dig into. I think I had the most sympathy for him, more than anyone else in the movie. I know it's weird, but I'll explain why. You'll notice that he is always doing what is right in his own eyes. Every villain does, if you think about it. Javert claimed to be a follower of God, too, but not a real one: he thought he was more righteous than most others, by carrying out the law. He was just, but he was not merciful or humble. He always looked down on others for their crimes, their past, or their living conditions. If they have brought themselves to this life that they are currently living, then they have fallen from grace altogether and don't deserve mercy; the law is more important. I sympathize most with him, because he fell for the lie of legalism, and I fell into that trap years ago myself. Following the rules was more important than anything else. Not much love and compassion for others. Thank God I have been redeemed and saved by grace, and my life has hope . . . unlike Javert's fate.
So . . . "Who am I?" I ask myself like Valjean does in the story. I am Jean Valjean in the sense that I am a follower of Christ with a past, that has been saved by grace through faith, trying to live a life of obedience to God. I am Fantine, because I chose the lifestyle that I lived, and I couldn't get myself out of it, but God had mercy on me and pulled me out of it, changing my life forever. I am Javert, because even though I no longer live a life of legalism, I still have tendencies every now and then and still am in need of grace even though my pride is very large.
I am a simple human being, a believer, a continually humbled woman. Lord, let me live a life of justice, mercy, and humility. Never let me forget the beauty of His free gift of salvation, by grace and through faith alone.
Monday, December 31, 2012
Thursday, December 20, 2012
The Thief of Joy
"Comparison is the thief of joy."
I read that quote somewhere online in the past year or so, and I haven't forgotten it. It's short, sweet, and to the point. Not only that, but it is one hundred percent true. There are so many ways in which this applies, but I'll only name a major few.
Social networking sites, like any other thing on earth, have their pros: you can keep in touch with those old friends, family, co-workers, other students, etc. that you don't see as often that you still want to keep in touch with, it's an easy way to share exciting things going on in your life, it's instant, and it's free. However, they also have their cons, one of them being that when looking at other peoples' lives online, you become jealous of the significant other they have, the friends they have, the "popularity" they have, their other possessions, etc. We covet what seems to be their "perfect" lives.
That's the thing, though: we forget that absolutely NO ONE has a perfect life. Not even that girl you keep following on Instagram that makes you roll your eyes, or even your old neighbor who seems to be living the "high life" on Facebook. Nobody's got it all figured out. They might appear to, but they don't. Not completely anyway.
The major problem with social networks is that we compare everyone else's biggest moments and highlights and compare them to our ordinary lives, which seem to be so incredibly dull to others.
Lately, I've been having this problem myself. With finals out of the way, I felt a relief with my grades - I did the best I could possibly do, I worked my tail off, and I was able to keep my scholarships! However, as more and more people are finding out their GPA's, they post their successes on Facebook. I can't even tell you how frustrated I am with those that manage to ALWAYS get a 4.0 GPA every semester, while I'm barely staying afloat with my 3.1 this semester.
That's another point I want to make. If there's one thing about high school and college that I can't stand, it's the whole GPA thing. Who came up with that anyway? I mean, I get it: you want as many scholarships as you can possibly get, and you want to keep them while you're in college. I get that. I am just so frustrated because it seems like I work my tail off all semester as a music student trying to get at least a few A's while there are those non-music majors that get 100's and A's on everything that comes at them. (Okay, I'm done with my rant now...)
As I step back from all that and take everything into perspective, grades, GPA's, my possessions, my popularity - none of that matters in the long run. I am a child of God who is pursuing an education in something that I love, something that God has gifted me in, and therefore is something that I know glorifies God. Why can't I just accept that and be content?
Because I compare myself with other people.
Paul writes in Philippians 4:11-12, "Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need." Then afterwards comes the all too familiar verse that some tend to take out of context: "I can do all things through him who strengthens me" (v. 13). Even though Paul was suffering through and speaking about persecution at this time, I think this truth still applies. Whatever situation God has you living through, whether it be dull, heartbreaking, or even overly exciting, we need to learn to be content with where we are and what we have.
Even though I don't have it all figured out, and even though I don't have a 4.0 GPA in school, I am His child who He loves. No one is going to judge you based on if you flunked that history final ten years down the road. However, your actions, even in school, reflect your heart: if you're giving your best to God, He will bless you for it in some way. Maybe not in the near future, but He will. It seems like I have to remind myself of this constantly . . .
May I truly believe it deep down, and may I never forget it.
I read that quote somewhere online in the past year or so, and I haven't forgotten it. It's short, sweet, and to the point. Not only that, but it is one hundred percent true. There are so many ways in which this applies, but I'll only name a major few.
Social networking sites, like any other thing on earth, have their pros: you can keep in touch with those old friends, family, co-workers, other students, etc. that you don't see as often that you still want to keep in touch with, it's an easy way to share exciting things going on in your life, it's instant, and it's free. However, they also have their cons, one of them being that when looking at other peoples' lives online, you become jealous of the significant other they have, the friends they have, the "popularity" they have, their other possessions, etc. We covet what seems to be their "perfect" lives.
That's the thing, though: we forget that absolutely NO ONE has a perfect life. Not even that girl you keep following on Instagram that makes you roll your eyes, or even your old neighbor who seems to be living the "high life" on Facebook. Nobody's got it all figured out. They might appear to, but they don't. Not completely anyway.
The major problem with social networks is that we compare everyone else's biggest moments and highlights and compare them to our ordinary lives, which seem to be so incredibly dull to others.
Lately, I've been having this problem myself. With finals out of the way, I felt a relief with my grades - I did the best I could possibly do, I worked my tail off, and I was able to keep my scholarships! However, as more and more people are finding out their GPA's, they post their successes on Facebook. I can't even tell you how frustrated I am with those that manage to ALWAYS get a 4.0 GPA every semester, while I'm barely staying afloat with my 3.1 this semester.
That's another point I want to make. If there's one thing about high school and college that I can't stand, it's the whole GPA thing. Who came up with that anyway? I mean, I get it: you want as many scholarships as you can possibly get, and you want to keep them while you're in college. I get that. I am just so frustrated because it seems like I work my tail off all semester as a music student trying to get at least a few A's while there are those non-music majors that get 100's and A's on everything that comes at them. (Okay, I'm done with my rant now...)
As I step back from all that and take everything into perspective, grades, GPA's, my possessions, my popularity - none of that matters in the long run. I am a child of God who is pursuing an education in something that I love, something that God has gifted me in, and therefore is something that I know glorifies God. Why can't I just accept that and be content?
Because I compare myself with other people.
Paul writes in Philippians 4:11-12, "Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need." Then afterwards comes the all too familiar verse that some tend to take out of context: "I can do all things through him who strengthens me" (v. 13). Even though Paul was suffering through and speaking about persecution at this time, I think this truth still applies. Whatever situation God has you living through, whether it be dull, heartbreaking, or even overly exciting, we need to learn to be content with where we are and what we have.
Even though I don't have it all figured out, and even though I don't have a 4.0 GPA in school, I am His child who He loves. No one is going to judge you based on if you flunked that history final ten years down the road. However, your actions, even in school, reflect your heart: if you're giving your best to God, He will bless you for it in some way. Maybe not in the near future, but He will. It seems like I have to remind myself of this constantly . . .
May I truly believe it deep down, and may I never forget it.
Friday, December 14, 2012
In the Bleak Pre-Winter.
There are heavy hearts all across America right now. What happened today in Connecticut was a very heartbreaking, tragic thing; no one can deny that. It's interesting to me, though, because I stop myself when I notice myself and so many other people questioning, "Why would someone do something so terrible?"
The answer is pretty simple: We are all born into sin. Being sinful isn't just being imperfect, though. Being sinful is more than that; it's being enemies of God. We all deserve punishment: death. "That's kind of extreme, don't you think?" Well, yeah, it is. But if we were all good people deep down, why would we need a Savior?
Christmas is a fun time of year. Some people would say, "It's the most wonderful time of year!" And so it probably is. (It's my favorite, too!) There are many memories made around this time of year: baking cookies, spending time with family and friends, good food, and of course you can't forget the Christmas lights! Why do we do all of this, though?
We hear people on the radio, on street corners, and everywhere in tarnation telling us that "Jesus is the reason for the season!" And so it is. I have no problem with those people; what they say is absolutely true. How many of us, though, really know WHY Jesus is the reason? We hear the Christmas story all the time, but do people really believe it? I think if people truly believed this story, and the Gospel itself, then we would be more excited and ready to share those things with everyone we knew; we would want to tell the whole world! As I'm writing this and thinking all of this through, the Holy Spirit convicts me because I know that I am not doing that. Why am I not telling everyone this good news? Am I afraid? Not really. Am I ashamed? Not at all. So then, what's my problem? I think personally, that I take my salvation for granted a lot of the time. I live in America, where I can pray, go to church 2-3 times a week, have enough money to live in a nice house and go to a Christian university, buy and download worship songs to put on my iphone, etc. I live in America, where I am not persecuted for my faith. I don't have an urgency to share the Gospel, because the Gospel is not at threat here in America... Or is it? Either way, I am becoming more thankful for the grace He has given to me, for the call to live and be with Him forever. The keyword is becoming... it's definitely a process. I hope I can become even more thankful for that precious gift.
I sat around a small group of women, young and older this afternoon, and one of the women shared with us how she found out that at the school she and several other women serve at, NONE of the kids knew the real reason for Christmas; all they knew about was the material things about it. They had no clue that Christmas was about Jesus. How sad and heartbreaking is that? Then I think of all those kids that were shot today at the elementary school... How many of THEM were ever told about Jesus?
The shooting today is worthy of mourning. Many lost their lives and many more lost their loved ones. In the midst of all of this, God gave us hope. God became a man. A real man, with human body parts, emotions and feelings like hunger, temptation, and grief. The celebration of Christmas is a celebration of hope. In the midst of this dark world, this Light came. From the manger to the cross, Christ carried out God's plan of salvation for those who are His. Because of Him, we are free. We have a hope and a future. I thank God that this world is not our real home. We have something more beautiful and wonderful than we could ever imagine waiting for us. Oh what a glorious day that will be!
Forgive us, Lord for our lack of urgency about sharing the hard, but beautiful Gospel. Forgive our apathy. Help us to recognize the sinfulness in this world. Give us all an urgency for sharing Your truths, Your love, and Your way, the only way. May we as believers let our light shine in the darkness.
The answer is pretty simple: We are all born into sin. Being sinful isn't just being imperfect, though. Being sinful is more than that; it's being enemies of God. We all deserve punishment: death. "That's kind of extreme, don't you think?" Well, yeah, it is. But if we were all good people deep down, why would we need a Savior?
Christmas is a fun time of year. Some people would say, "It's the most wonderful time of year!" And so it probably is. (It's my favorite, too!) There are many memories made around this time of year: baking cookies, spending time with family and friends, good food, and of course you can't forget the Christmas lights! Why do we do all of this, though?
We hear people on the radio, on street corners, and everywhere in tarnation telling us that "Jesus is the reason for the season!" And so it is. I have no problem with those people; what they say is absolutely true. How many of us, though, really know WHY Jesus is the reason? We hear the Christmas story all the time, but do people really believe it? I think if people truly believed this story, and the Gospel itself, then we would be more excited and ready to share those things with everyone we knew; we would want to tell the whole world! As I'm writing this and thinking all of this through, the Holy Spirit convicts me because I know that I am not doing that. Why am I not telling everyone this good news? Am I afraid? Not really. Am I ashamed? Not at all. So then, what's my problem? I think personally, that I take my salvation for granted a lot of the time. I live in America, where I can pray, go to church 2-3 times a week, have enough money to live in a nice house and go to a Christian university, buy and download worship songs to put on my iphone, etc. I live in America, where I am not persecuted for my faith. I don't have an urgency to share the Gospel, because the Gospel is not at threat here in America... Or is it? Either way, I am becoming more thankful for the grace He has given to me, for the call to live and be with Him forever. The keyword is becoming... it's definitely a process. I hope I can become even more thankful for that precious gift.
I sat around a small group of women, young and older this afternoon, and one of the women shared with us how she found out that at the school she and several other women serve at, NONE of the kids knew the real reason for Christmas; all they knew about was the material things about it. They had no clue that Christmas was about Jesus. How sad and heartbreaking is that? Then I think of all those kids that were shot today at the elementary school... How many of THEM were ever told about Jesus?
The shooting today is worthy of mourning. Many lost their lives and many more lost their loved ones. In the midst of all of this, God gave us hope. God became a man. A real man, with human body parts, emotions and feelings like hunger, temptation, and grief. The celebration of Christmas is a celebration of hope. In the midst of this dark world, this Light came. From the manger to the cross, Christ carried out God's plan of salvation for those who are His. Because of Him, we are free. We have a hope and a future. I thank God that this world is not our real home. We have something more beautiful and wonderful than we could ever imagine waiting for us. Oh what a glorious day that will be!
Forgive us, Lord for our lack of urgency about sharing the hard, but beautiful Gospel. Forgive our apathy. Help us to recognize the sinfulness in this world. Give us all an urgency for sharing Your truths, Your love, and Your way, the only way. May we as believers let our light shine in the darkness.
Friday, December 7, 2012
Semester Reflections.
The semester's almost over. Unlike the past two, this one zoomed by. "Where did the time go?" I find myself asking others in normal conversations. There's so much that I've pondered.
I remember the beginning of the semester feeling just overwhelmed because I was taking 18 hours at the time (including being in a musical). I dropped out of the musical eventually because 1. I had an insignificant role and wouldn't be terribly missed, and 2. It took so much time away from me and added so much stress. After that, I felt so free and at peace with my life. It was hard, because I love acting and singing (and both combined!), but I knew it was the right decision.
In adding to that, I truly learned not to overcommit. I knew I had always had that problem, but it really stood out to me this semester. Saying no is hard for me, because I love helping people and being involved in everything. (Plus I'm a WOO - which means I'm an extreme extrovert! JBU people know what I'm talking about.) But at some point, I wear myself out and become extremely stressed and overwhelmed with all of it; then I forget the point of why I'm doing all these things and they become more of a burden than a blessing. So, believe it or not, I've learned to say no. I'm still working on it, though. In fact, the other day at my voice lesson, my voice teacher asked me if I would be interested in singing for a nursing home (or something of the like?) after finals. I said "yes" at first, but my mind was plagued with worry throughout the rest of the lesson, with questions like, "What would I sing? How many programs am I singing for besides this one anyway? Where is this place? Wait a minute, I don't even know these people!!" So, at the end of the lesson, I apologized to her and told her I couldn't do it. I felt better that I had said no afterwards.
Speaking of getting worn out with things, I've become more of a home-body this semester. That's kind of a big deal for me, because in the past, I never wanted to be at home. I would spend as much time as I could with my friends on campus. I think part of the reason for wanting to be at home more has to do with the fact that I have a boyfriend now, who doesn't go to JBU and so we hang out at my house on the weekends. I also think part of it has to do with what happened to me this summer; with a broken leg, I learned to entertain myself at home, and I grew to love it. Even this semester, it's nice to come home and get a hug from my mom and make myself a cup of peppermint tea, do my own laundry for free, and study in my own room. Part of saying no to things is sometimes saying no to social gatherings/parties. For instance, last night after Candlelight was the J. Alvin (all-guys' dorm) Christmas party; friends asked me if I would go. If they had asked me last year, I would've said, "YES!" with no hesitation. This year, however, I declined immediately because I knew I would be tired and that I needed to go home right after the concert and go to bed.
I don't know if college does this with everybody, but I think I've become more introverted this year. I do appreciate coming home every night and having quite a bit of alone time. Maybe I'm just becoming more aware of my limitations: physically, emotionally, and mentally.
This semester was actually one of a lack of spiritual growth. Which sounds awful, but I recognized that I didn't grow as much as I did over the summer. I know people go through times of spiking growth and even times of not-so-much growth, but I had even questioned whether I was making any difference in anyone's life: was I being a good witness to others? Was I showing Christ to them? What was I doing that would contribute to the Kingdom? At one point, I felt like a failure in all of these different ways. Then, an acquaintance of mine Facebook messaged me, and asked me how I was so successful. I was very confused because I thought to myself, "What could I have possibly been successful at?" They responded to my question with how I seemed to be such a great friend and student, so talented at music.. how did I do it? I was a bit curious, because I didn't think I had been that successful as a student, and I don't think too highly of myself as far as my music goes. I always try to be the best friend I can be though, I would like for people to rely on me for anything and to be there for people. Anywho, it was a great encouragement to me, because it showed I had made an impact on at least one person's life. That is one of my biggest goals in life: to show Christ and make an impact on others' lives, whether it be with my music or the way I interact with others. Just recently in the past few weeks, I've been reading my Bible on my own more often, and have been getting back on track in my walk with Christ. I am so thankful that He is faithful, even when I am not.
Lately, I have also been frustrated with myself in choir. I love Women's Chorus very much, but I have been frustrated with myself because I am a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to music, and I get annoyed sometimes when we don't perform songs the way I think they should be performed. Part of that comes with pride - I have a very musical background, and I feel as though I have to live up to the greatness of my family members involved in music. I know they are all proud of me and support me no matter what, but it still puts some pressure on me regardless. Last night after the concert, I went home and when I went to bed, I laid there thinking, "Is it even worth it?" They need you. "...Really?" Yes. "Well, I know I'm an older girl, and we do have a lot of freshmen in our group; we do every year. There's not many older girls that stay in Women's Chorus." No, there's not. They need you. "Ugh... Really?" and so on. I finally gave up trying to resolve the argument I was having with myself in my head and drifted off to sleep. Tonight, we all gathered in the theory room on the first floor of the cathedral, and one of the young women shared that she needed prayer for strength to get through the Candlelight service and the whole Christmas season because she lost her dad to cancer in August. We all sat/stood around her, laying hands on her. With tear-filled eyes, we prayed for her, praying truth and Scripture to her. As we all prayed, I was encouraged listening to everyone's words of encouragement, comfort, and earnestness. Another young woman shared her testimony and shared the passage of Habakkuk 3:17-18, which says: "Though the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines, the produce of the olive fail and the fields yield no food, the flock be cut off from the fold, and there be no herd in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will take joy in the God of my salvation." She told us that we may not see the light in tough situations in this life, or blessings come out of hard times, but we do have one blessing: that God is the light of our salvation, and He has redeemed us. What a beautiful truth, and I am very grateful for it to be shared with me tonight. Tonight has reminded me that God may not always reveal the reason why things happen, and we may not see fruit or the blessing that comes with a trial, but everything He does has a purpose, and He is always good. Tonight has also reminded me that He has blessed me with a diverse, yet wonderful group of women in Women's Chorus, and that the fellowship and unity we have with each other is absolutely beautiful. Another thing to add on top of that is this: I was again reminded of why I want to go into ministry. I have a heart for young women, and I want to minister to them, teach them, disciple them. We'll see where God leads.
I also was accepted as a finalist for Next Big Thing at JBU again. (NO, it is not the same thing as the one on Disney Channel, for those still wondering. Haha!) I actually didn't think I would make it. Not that I think of myself as a horrible musician/songwriter, but there was more competition this year than there was last year, and I know there are a ton of talented people at JBU. Just because I made it last year, that doesn't guarantee me a spot this year. I just thought to myself, "Surely not me... There are so many other people better than me out there." Nevertheless, I was accepted again! God gave me a joyful yes! This is a second chance: will I use the gifts and talents that God has given to me to give glory back to Him and to minister to others? We shall also see where this journey leads this year.
I pray next semester will be even better, with more for me to learn and more growth in all areas of my life. May I never forget that He is the giver of good gifts, and may I never squander what He has given to me. May my life always reflect Jesus, and may I speak truth to others in every possible way. Amen, let it be so.
I remember the beginning of the semester feeling just overwhelmed because I was taking 18 hours at the time (including being in a musical). I dropped out of the musical eventually because 1. I had an insignificant role and wouldn't be terribly missed, and 2. It took so much time away from me and added so much stress. After that, I felt so free and at peace with my life. It was hard, because I love acting and singing (and both combined!), but I knew it was the right decision.
In adding to that, I truly learned not to overcommit. I knew I had always had that problem, but it really stood out to me this semester. Saying no is hard for me, because I love helping people and being involved in everything. (Plus I'm a WOO - which means I'm an extreme extrovert! JBU people know what I'm talking about.) But at some point, I wear myself out and become extremely stressed and overwhelmed with all of it; then I forget the point of why I'm doing all these things and they become more of a burden than a blessing. So, believe it or not, I've learned to say no. I'm still working on it, though. In fact, the other day at my voice lesson, my voice teacher asked me if I would be interested in singing for a nursing home (or something of the like?) after finals. I said "yes" at first, but my mind was plagued with worry throughout the rest of the lesson, with questions like, "What would I sing? How many programs am I singing for besides this one anyway? Where is this place? Wait a minute, I don't even know these people!!" So, at the end of the lesson, I apologized to her and told her I couldn't do it. I felt better that I had said no afterwards.
Speaking of getting worn out with things, I've become more of a home-body this semester. That's kind of a big deal for me, because in the past, I never wanted to be at home. I would spend as much time as I could with my friends on campus. I think part of the reason for wanting to be at home more has to do with the fact that I have a boyfriend now, who doesn't go to JBU and so we hang out at my house on the weekends. I also think part of it has to do with what happened to me this summer; with a broken leg, I learned to entertain myself at home, and I grew to love it. Even this semester, it's nice to come home and get a hug from my mom and make myself a cup of peppermint tea, do my own laundry for free, and study in my own room. Part of saying no to things is sometimes saying no to social gatherings/parties. For instance, last night after Candlelight was the J. Alvin (all-guys' dorm) Christmas party; friends asked me if I would go. If they had asked me last year, I would've said, "YES!" with no hesitation. This year, however, I declined immediately because I knew I would be tired and that I needed to go home right after the concert and go to bed.
I don't know if college does this with everybody, but I think I've become more introverted this year. I do appreciate coming home every night and having quite a bit of alone time. Maybe I'm just becoming more aware of my limitations: physically, emotionally, and mentally.
This semester was actually one of a lack of spiritual growth. Which sounds awful, but I recognized that I didn't grow as much as I did over the summer. I know people go through times of spiking growth and even times of not-so-much growth, but I had even questioned whether I was making any difference in anyone's life: was I being a good witness to others? Was I showing Christ to them? What was I doing that would contribute to the Kingdom? At one point, I felt like a failure in all of these different ways. Then, an acquaintance of mine Facebook messaged me, and asked me how I was so successful. I was very confused because I thought to myself, "What could I have possibly been successful at?" They responded to my question with how I seemed to be such a great friend and student, so talented at music.. how did I do it? I was a bit curious, because I didn't think I had been that successful as a student, and I don't think too highly of myself as far as my music goes. I always try to be the best friend I can be though, I would like for people to rely on me for anything and to be there for people. Anywho, it was a great encouragement to me, because it showed I had made an impact on at least one person's life. That is one of my biggest goals in life: to show Christ and make an impact on others' lives, whether it be with my music or the way I interact with others. Just recently in the past few weeks, I've been reading my Bible on my own more often, and have been getting back on track in my walk with Christ. I am so thankful that He is faithful, even when I am not.
Lately, I have also been frustrated with myself in choir. I love Women's Chorus very much, but I have been frustrated with myself because I am a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to music, and I get annoyed sometimes when we don't perform songs the way I think they should be performed. Part of that comes with pride - I have a very musical background, and I feel as though I have to live up to the greatness of my family members involved in music. I know they are all proud of me and support me no matter what, but it still puts some pressure on me regardless. Last night after the concert, I went home and when I went to bed, I laid there thinking, "Is it even worth it?" They need you. "...Really?" Yes. "Well, I know I'm an older girl, and we do have a lot of freshmen in our group; we do every year. There's not many older girls that stay in Women's Chorus." No, there's not. They need you. "Ugh... Really?" and so on. I finally gave up trying to resolve the argument I was having with myself in my head and drifted off to sleep. Tonight, we all gathered in the theory room on the first floor of the cathedral, and one of the young women shared that she needed prayer for strength to get through the Candlelight service and the whole Christmas season because she lost her dad to cancer in August. We all sat/stood around her, laying hands on her. With tear-filled eyes, we prayed for her, praying truth and Scripture to her. As we all prayed, I was encouraged listening to everyone's words of encouragement, comfort, and earnestness. Another young woman shared her testimony and shared the passage of Habakkuk 3:17-18, which says: "Though the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines, the produce of the olive fail and the fields yield no food, the flock be cut off from the fold, and there be no herd in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will take joy in the God of my salvation." She told us that we may not see the light in tough situations in this life, or blessings come out of hard times, but we do have one blessing: that God is the light of our salvation, and He has redeemed us. What a beautiful truth, and I am very grateful for it to be shared with me tonight. Tonight has reminded me that God may not always reveal the reason why things happen, and we may not see fruit or the blessing that comes with a trial, but everything He does has a purpose, and He is always good. Tonight has also reminded me that He has blessed me with a diverse, yet wonderful group of women in Women's Chorus, and that the fellowship and unity we have with each other is absolutely beautiful. Another thing to add on top of that is this: I was again reminded of why I want to go into ministry. I have a heart for young women, and I want to minister to them, teach them, disciple them. We'll see where God leads.
I also was accepted as a finalist for Next Big Thing at JBU again. (NO, it is not the same thing as the one on Disney Channel, for those still wondering. Haha!) I actually didn't think I would make it. Not that I think of myself as a horrible musician/songwriter, but there was more competition this year than there was last year, and I know there are a ton of talented people at JBU. Just because I made it last year, that doesn't guarantee me a spot this year. I just thought to myself, "Surely not me... There are so many other people better than me out there." Nevertheless, I was accepted again! God gave me a joyful yes! This is a second chance: will I use the gifts and talents that God has given to me to give glory back to Him and to minister to others? We shall also see where this journey leads this year.
I pray next semester will be even better, with more for me to learn and more growth in all areas of my life. May I never forget that He is the giver of good gifts, and may I never squander what He has given to me. May my life always reflect Jesus, and may I speak truth to others in every possible way. Amen, let it be so.
Sunday, December 2, 2012
Through a Disciple's Eyes
December 24th. Eyes full of wonder, I stared up at the cross in the front of the large and brightly lit sanctuary. "This, this is Christ the King," the chorus of harmonious voices seemed to ring out through the whole world at that moment. How could there be people that don't believe in a God that created this beautiful gift of music? How is it possible that there are people that don't believe that we have a Savior, born as a human man and come to wash away the sins of His people? I kept my eyes fixed on that cross for a good minute. Sparkling eyes that mirrored the lights lining this room then trailed off to look at the people around me. All smiles. Beautiful music and my family standing in a row, hearts full of love. "Lord, I am ready to live for You."
You will deny Me.
Pride sparks the fire of jealousy. The fool purses her lips and brings evil to pass. Little did I know that pride comes before destruction. Friends divided. Witness ruined.
Sister is furious. Instead of building a dam, I let loose the forceful, spraying waterfall, as it tumbles down the hill. Hatred spills from my insides and from my lips like acid from my stomach. The fool cannot shut her mouth. The damage cannot be undone. Bitterness lingers.
A debate is sparked. No longer a simple fool, but a Pharisee. A hypocrite. I speak of love and kindness but brutally murder others with my words. "Legalist!" they cry. I shrug, only doing my duty as a Christian to tell them how they err in their ways. Apathy grows as a cancer inside of me for the very people God came to save. The perfect recipe for a hardened heart. A cold, stone heart.
The rooster crows. Jesus turns to me. Looks at me.
Oh, Lord. Chills run up my arms and legs. Those haunting eyes. Why?
And I remember.
I fall on my knees on the carpeted floor in my bedroom. Eyes blurred by tears. Forgive my apathy! Forgive my pride! Forgive every vile thing in the innermost corners of my heart. Sweep out every cobweb, every speck of dirt, every piece of filth. Forgive me: a Pharisee. Scrub me down. But how? I'm so disgusting. Kyrie Eleison - Lord, have mercy on me.
Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you.
Seek the Lord and live.
Oh, how He is faithful!
A man looking on from the outside. Lonely. I can see it in his eyes. Do you love Me? One word of greeting and a smile. An almost forgotten smile cracks on his line-drawn face. Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.
A friend come to make amends after years of hidden bitterness stored up inside of me. No apology from her. Do you love Me? I take the glue and repair what has been broken, with some Help. Yes, Lord.
The clock reads 12:30. My hand reaches to turn out the lamp. I glance down at the worn pink Bible and the devotional book on the bedside table just inches from my hand. Do you love Me? I pick the Bible up, and turn to where the bookmark was left. Yes, Lord.
Every day, His call is ever before me, stronger than ever: Follow Me.
Please be my strength.
You will deny Me.
Pride sparks the fire of jealousy. The fool purses her lips and brings evil to pass. Little did I know that pride comes before destruction. Friends divided. Witness ruined.
Sister is furious. Instead of building a dam, I let loose the forceful, spraying waterfall, as it tumbles down the hill. Hatred spills from my insides and from my lips like acid from my stomach. The fool cannot shut her mouth. The damage cannot be undone. Bitterness lingers.
A debate is sparked. No longer a simple fool, but a Pharisee. A hypocrite. I speak of love and kindness but brutally murder others with my words. "Legalist!" they cry. I shrug, only doing my duty as a Christian to tell them how they err in their ways. Apathy grows as a cancer inside of me for the very people God came to save. The perfect recipe for a hardened heart. A cold, stone heart.
The rooster crows. Jesus turns to me. Looks at me.
Oh, Lord. Chills run up my arms and legs. Those haunting eyes. Why?
And I remember.
I fall on my knees on the carpeted floor in my bedroom. Eyes blurred by tears. Forgive my apathy! Forgive my pride! Forgive every vile thing in the innermost corners of my heart. Sweep out every cobweb, every speck of dirt, every piece of filth. Forgive me: a Pharisee. Scrub me down. But how? I'm so disgusting. Kyrie Eleison - Lord, have mercy on me.
Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you.
Seek the Lord and live.
Oh, how He is faithful!
A man looking on from the outside. Lonely. I can see it in his eyes. Do you love Me? One word of greeting and a smile. An almost forgotten smile cracks on his line-drawn face. Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.
A friend come to make amends after years of hidden bitterness stored up inside of me. No apology from her. Do you love Me? I take the glue and repair what has been broken, with some Help. Yes, Lord.
The clock reads 12:30. My hand reaches to turn out the lamp. I glance down at the worn pink Bible and the devotional book on the bedside table just inches from my hand. Do you love Me? I pick the Bible up, and turn to where the bookmark was left. Yes, Lord.
Every day, His call is ever before me, stronger than ever: Follow Me.
Please be my strength.
Monday, November 19, 2012
From Across the Room
The slam of the truck door. The brisk half-walk, half-run through the parking lot. Opening the door to the Catfish Hole. "Will there be 2?" "Five, actually." "Okay, right this way." I pull out the chair closest to the wall.
Hush puppies, green tomato relish, and cole slaw are all set on the table. After I've consumed two of the hush puppies from the bowl, I look up and see her. One of the waitresses. Straight blonde hair in a messy bun. She finally swept to our table and refilled all of our drinks without a word, then with a huff she slipped away as fast as she came. We all looked at each other and shrugged, wondering what her deal was.
As she came back a few minutes later to refill our hush puppies, I looked back up at her and smiled. There seemed to be a hint of gratefulness in her eyes, and she actually smiled back. The few times she came back to our table, she seemed more friendly towards us.
This made me think: I have to wonder how many of us actually convey our gratitude to the people who serve us, and even if we do, do we really mean it?
Thanksgiving is coming up, and we all know we're supposed to be thankful for what we've been blessed with. Ironically, we have a "holiday" the day right after, where we wait in lines for hours so we can push and shove each other in stores in order to buy all this stuff that we think we NEED to have. America is a pretty stinking rich country; if you look at the world around us, most don't have half of the stuff we do.
Does anyone else see anything wrong with this?
This is convicting to me because if all of my stuff were taken away, all of my electronics, other comforts, my money, my car, my own room, etc... Would I still be thankful for what little I had left?
One of the pastors at church yesterday, Steve Barthelemy, preached on Psalm 100. Verses 1-4 are full of commands: 1. Make a joyful noise, 2. Serve the Lord with gladness, 3. Know that the Lord is God, and 4. Enter His gates with thanksgiving (give thanks). Following those verses in v.5, we are given the reason for these commands: "For the Lord is good; his steadfast love endures forever, and his faithfulness to all generations." God is good all of the time, no matter the circumstance we are given, and that is reason enough to give our thanks to Him. Even if we are in the midst of any sort of trial, especially if we are in some sort of trial, we are to give thanks to God for what He has blessed us with: as believers, we have been saved by grace through faith alone.
Thankfulness is a bigger thing than we might think it to be. Without it, how do you think we would react to the gift of salvation that we have been given through Christ?
We are commanded to be thankful to God ultimately, but we should also convey our gratitude for those in everyday life that serve us. Even if that person wipes off tables at a restaurant or teaches our least favorite class, even if their job seems insignificant, it can completely change someone's day to merely thank them for even the smallest or most humbling of jobs.
Now, finish your classes and go hang out with your family; and genuinely thank them for who they are and what they've done in your life! I hope you all have a lovely Thanksgiving holiday/break. :)
Hush puppies, green tomato relish, and cole slaw are all set on the table. After I've consumed two of the hush puppies from the bowl, I look up and see her. One of the waitresses. Straight blonde hair in a messy bun. She finally swept to our table and refilled all of our drinks without a word, then with a huff she slipped away as fast as she came. We all looked at each other and shrugged, wondering what her deal was.
As she came back a few minutes later to refill our hush puppies, I looked back up at her and smiled. There seemed to be a hint of gratefulness in her eyes, and she actually smiled back. The few times she came back to our table, she seemed more friendly towards us.
This made me think: I have to wonder how many of us actually convey our gratitude to the people who serve us, and even if we do, do we really mean it?
Thanksgiving is coming up, and we all know we're supposed to be thankful for what we've been blessed with. Ironically, we have a "holiday" the day right after, where we wait in lines for hours so we can push and shove each other in stores in order to buy all this stuff that we think we NEED to have. America is a pretty stinking rich country; if you look at the world around us, most don't have half of the stuff we do.
Does anyone else see anything wrong with this?
This is convicting to me because if all of my stuff were taken away, all of my electronics, other comforts, my money, my car, my own room, etc... Would I still be thankful for what little I had left?
One of the pastors at church yesterday, Steve Barthelemy, preached on Psalm 100. Verses 1-4 are full of commands: 1. Make a joyful noise, 2. Serve the Lord with gladness, 3. Know that the Lord is God, and 4. Enter His gates with thanksgiving (give thanks). Following those verses in v.5, we are given the reason for these commands: "For the Lord is good; his steadfast love endures forever, and his faithfulness to all generations." God is good all of the time, no matter the circumstance we are given, and that is reason enough to give our thanks to Him. Even if we are in the midst of any sort of trial, especially if we are in some sort of trial, we are to give thanks to God for what He has blessed us with: as believers, we have been saved by grace through faith alone.
Thankfulness is a bigger thing than we might think it to be. Without it, how do you think we would react to the gift of salvation that we have been given through Christ?
We are commanded to be thankful to God ultimately, but we should also convey our gratitude for those in everyday life that serve us. Even if that person wipes off tables at a restaurant or teaches our least favorite class, even if their job seems insignificant, it can completely change someone's day to merely thank them for even the smallest or most humbling of jobs.
Now, finish your classes and go hang out with your family; and genuinely thank them for who they are and what they've done in your life! I hope you all have a lovely Thanksgiving holiday/break. :)
Saturday, November 3, 2012
(Another) Post About Pride.
Well, it's been over a month since the last time I posted on here... I guess because nothing's really happened since then. False, there's been a lot going on, just nothing really "post-worthy." Until just recently, that is.
I'll start off by saying that I absolutely hate conflict. Most of you that know me well, know this fact. One of my top strengths is harmony: I keep the peace among my group of friends and step in where it needs to be taken care of. Another of my top strengths is belief: I am stubborn and my mind won't be swayed very easily to believing in something contrary to what I already believe in. Which are both very good things, but Satan is the master of twisting very good things into very ugly things.
Lately, I've noticed a lot of what I see as conflict among my friends. It has never been anything major, it just drives me crazy because I am a harmonious person, and to me, conflict = upset and unhappy people. This is not the case 99.9% of the time, but I seem to over-exaggerate the situation, and I see conflict negatively. I think that's because I have lost very good friends of mine over a single argument, and it has affected me a lot. Anywho, this certain thing has kept popping up in "discussions" that I have with some of my friends, and because it has made other friends annoyed/upset, I have felt the need to step in and say, "Enough's enough, let's move on" because I want everyone to be happy and get along with each other. Some of my friends feel the need to talk things over for a long time before it's all better again, and that drives me crazy! I'm the kind of person that apologizes/has someone apologize to me, and then all is forgiven, and then we move on immediately. I push it all in the past; what's done is done, and we can learn from our mistakes and move on. So, I tell my friends who are not like me that they don't need to talk things out for forever about what I feel like are really small issues that don't need to be discussed.
I also look at my friends and see the choices that they make. Let me make clear that these decisions are very wise decisions, and it is what's right for them. However, lately, I have just felt frustrated and sometimes angry with them because they're not doing what I personally would do, and I feel the need to tell them that they're doing it wrong. I believed very strongly that they weren't doing things the right way and that it would just be so much easier if they did it the way I would do it.
Both of these instances have hurt friends in some way. All because of my pride.
On Tuesday, we took communion in chapel. Tracy Balzer spoke on 1 Corinthians 11:17-34 (which is a passage focused on the Lord's supper). She explained that the word communion is linked with the community - we are people of community and we take communion together as a body of believers. She also focused on verse 18: there were divisions among the people in Corinth, and thus taking the Lord's supper in an unworthy manner. My mind went instantly to my friends and the situation I was in with them. Ironically, in what I thought was trying to keep the peace, I had actually created division among my friends, or at least encouraged it. I was convicted, but later was again confronted with the problem and made it worse. Talking it out with them this time, really truly listening to their side and understanding how they felt opened my eyes to the situation even more. This time, I truly felt sorry. My stupid pride had encouraged true conflict.
Even though we've talked it out and fixed everything for the most part, I have to remember that we are all different in so many ways; we were all raised in different backgrounds, families, environments, and we all have different personalities with different likes and dislikes. We should never try to "fix" our friends. (Unless they had a serious problem, then we definitely should encourage change...)
I remember talking with a friend last semester about something similar to this, and they told me that they learned this same truth: "We can't change our friends or the choices they make. Only God can do that. We can only love them and pray for them."
I have humbled myself before them and before God. It's so hard to do that, because we never want to own up when we're wrong. That's what needs to be done in every relationship, in friendship, marriage, etc. When both sides are willing to admit when they're wrong, then God can mold their hearts and thus the relationship is strengthened even more. We are called to live in humility: "Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth" (Matthew 5:5), "Humble yourselves before the Lord..." (James 4:10), "Whoever humbles himself [like this child] is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven" (Matthew 18:4), and "'God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble" (James 4:6).
Another lesson (hopefully) learned... Thank God that He forgives me of ALL of the stupid stuff I say and do.
I'll start off by saying that I absolutely hate conflict. Most of you that know me well, know this fact. One of my top strengths is harmony: I keep the peace among my group of friends and step in where it needs to be taken care of. Another of my top strengths is belief: I am stubborn and my mind won't be swayed very easily to believing in something contrary to what I already believe in. Which are both very good things, but Satan is the master of twisting very good things into very ugly things.
Lately, I've noticed a lot of what I see as conflict among my friends. It has never been anything major, it just drives me crazy because I am a harmonious person, and to me, conflict = upset and unhappy people. This is not the case 99.9% of the time, but I seem to over-exaggerate the situation, and I see conflict negatively. I think that's because I have lost very good friends of mine over a single argument, and it has affected me a lot. Anywho, this certain thing has kept popping up in "discussions" that I have with some of my friends, and because it has made other friends annoyed/upset, I have felt the need to step in and say, "Enough's enough, let's move on" because I want everyone to be happy and get along with each other. Some of my friends feel the need to talk things over for a long time before it's all better again, and that drives me crazy! I'm the kind of person that apologizes/has someone apologize to me, and then all is forgiven, and then we move on immediately. I push it all in the past; what's done is done, and we can learn from our mistakes and move on. So, I tell my friends who are not like me that they don't need to talk things out for forever about what I feel like are really small issues that don't need to be discussed.
I also look at my friends and see the choices that they make. Let me make clear that these decisions are very wise decisions, and it is what's right for them. However, lately, I have just felt frustrated and sometimes angry with them because they're not doing what I personally would do, and I feel the need to tell them that they're doing it wrong. I believed very strongly that they weren't doing things the right way and that it would just be so much easier if they did it the way I would do it.
Both of these instances have hurt friends in some way. All because of my pride.
On Tuesday, we took communion in chapel. Tracy Balzer spoke on 1 Corinthians 11:17-34 (which is a passage focused on the Lord's supper). She explained that the word communion is linked with the community - we are people of community and we take communion together as a body of believers. She also focused on verse 18: there were divisions among the people in Corinth, and thus taking the Lord's supper in an unworthy manner. My mind went instantly to my friends and the situation I was in with them. Ironically, in what I thought was trying to keep the peace, I had actually created division among my friends, or at least encouraged it. I was convicted, but later was again confronted with the problem and made it worse. Talking it out with them this time, really truly listening to their side and understanding how they felt opened my eyes to the situation even more. This time, I truly felt sorry. My stupid pride had encouraged true conflict.
Even though we've talked it out and fixed everything for the most part, I have to remember that we are all different in so many ways; we were all raised in different backgrounds, families, environments, and we all have different personalities with different likes and dislikes. We should never try to "fix" our friends. (Unless they had a serious problem, then we definitely should encourage change...)
I remember talking with a friend last semester about something similar to this, and they told me that they learned this same truth: "We can't change our friends or the choices they make. Only God can do that. We can only love them and pray for them."
I have humbled myself before them and before God. It's so hard to do that, because we never want to own up when we're wrong. That's what needs to be done in every relationship, in friendship, marriage, etc. When both sides are willing to admit when they're wrong, then God can mold their hearts and thus the relationship is strengthened even more. We are called to live in humility: "Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth" (Matthew 5:5), "Humble yourselves before the Lord..." (James 4:10), "Whoever humbles himself [like this child] is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven" (Matthew 18:4), and "'God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble" (James 4:6).
Another lesson (hopefully) learned... Thank God that He forgives me of ALL of the stupid stuff I say and do.
Sunday, September 23, 2012
A Letter to Me.
Dear Lauren,
You had no idea.
Even just last semester you were struggling. Struggling with contentment, with relationships around you, with uncertainty of the future. You were questioning "why" on a lot of things. You created plans and were going to be a witness to people in the workplace and summer school. Or so you thought. You had no idea.
You didn't know.
With plans all made and set in the stone of your head and heart, you were certain that summer would be crazy busy, with all of the work that you would do at McAlister's and NWACC. You came to the conclusion that you would have no social life. But you finally became content. You had one day of freedom the day after your first day of work, and you wanted to spend it with a good friend. You didn't know that one choice and one action would change your plans and your life. You didn't know.
It was hard.
It hurt when you fell into the creek. All it took was one split second. Forgetting how to brake. A scream. Tumbling down, not knowing when you were going to stop, not knowing if you were going to die. A sore hip, a stinging forehead, a throbbing ankle, a scraped up body and four wheeler. Rips and blood stains on your favorite pair of jeans (which you had to cut up and throw away later). It was hard to get up from the creek. You had to have help. It was hard to even have help, because you were so independent; you didn't think you needed anyone to save you. But you did. And he was more than willing to help you.
It was hard to learn how to use crutches. It was hard to hear the bad news of not being able to keep your job and classes; it was hard to keep those tears from falling in the doctor's office. It was hard to let your daddy see you and hold you while you cried out in the parking lot. It was hard to not bend your knee at all for three straight weeks. It was hard to bear the early morning pains in your heel from not moving your leg around enough that night. It was hard (at first) to swallow that pill every single day. It was hard to be confined to a bed and a couch for almost a month, when you were so used to being busy running to-and-fro. It was hard to not go anywhere but the doctor's office for almost a month. It was hard wearing a boot for 9 weeks after that. It was hard to not be able to exercise and do normal things for 3 months. It. Was. HARD.
But then . . . it was worth it.
It was worth it to see Matt every few days. It was worth it to grow in your friendship and relationship with him. It was worth it to have good friends there with you to keep you company while you were bed/couch-ridden. It was worth it to be able to relax. It was worth it to be able to paint again. It was worth it to write about anything you wanted to. It was worth it to learn that staying at home is a good thing. It was worth it to learn to slow down. It was worth it to have the simple joy of walking without help again.
But most of all, it was worth it all to be a huge witness to the people around you. You LOVE telling people the story of what all happened to you this summer (which is why you write about it a lot, also). It's a story that definitely gives God all the glory and shows His active and protective hand in not only in your own life but in others' lives as well.
It was also worth it all to learn that God's plans are the best plans. Nothing you could ever plan yourself would be even close to what He had/still has in mind for you. This is another cause for you to give all the glory to God.
Never forget to do that in all you do.
With the hopes that you'll continue to grow in the grace and knowledge of Him,
Me.
You had no idea.
Even just last semester you were struggling. Struggling with contentment, with relationships around you, with uncertainty of the future. You were questioning "why" on a lot of things. You created plans and were going to be a witness to people in the workplace and summer school. Or so you thought. You had no idea.
You didn't know.
With plans all made and set in the stone of your head and heart, you were certain that summer would be crazy busy, with all of the work that you would do at McAlister's and NWACC. You came to the conclusion that you would have no social life. But you finally became content. You had one day of freedom the day after your first day of work, and you wanted to spend it with a good friend. You didn't know that one choice and one action would change your plans and your life. You didn't know.
It was hard.
It hurt when you fell into the creek. All it took was one split second. Forgetting how to brake. A scream. Tumbling down, not knowing when you were going to stop, not knowing if you were going to die. A sore hip, a stinging forehead, a throbbing ankle, a scraped up body and four wheeler. Rips and blood stains on your favorite pair of jeans (which you had to cut up and throw away later). It was hard to get up from the creek. You had to have help. It was hard to even have help, because you were so independent; you didn't think you needed anyone to save you. But you did. And he was more than willing to help you.
It was hard to learn how to use crutches. It was hard to hear the bad news of not being able to keep your job and classes; it was hard to keep those tears from falling in the doctor's office. It was hard to let your daddy see you and hold you while you cried out in the parking lot. It was hard to not bend your knee at all for three straight weeks. It was hard to bear the early morning pains in your heel from not moving your leg around enough that night. It was hard (at first) to swallow that pill every single day. It was hard to be confined to a bed and a couch for almost a month, when you were so used to being busy running to-and-fro. It was hard to not go anywhere but the doctor's office for almost a month. It was hard wearing a boot for 9 weeks after that. It was hard to not be able to exercise and do normal things for 3 months. It. Was. HARD.
But then . . . it was worth it.
It was worth it to see Matt every few days. It was worth it to grow in your friendship and relationship with him. It was worth it to have good friends there with you to keep you company while you were bed/couch-ridden. It was worth it to be able to relax. It was worth it to be able to paint again. It was worth it to write about anything you wanted to. It was worth it to learn that staying at home is a good thing. It was worth it to learn to slow down. It was worth it to have the simple joy of walking without help again.
But most of all, it was worth it all to be a huge witness to the people around you. You LOVE telling people the story of what all happened to you this summer (which is why you write about it a lot, also). It's a story that definitely gives God all the glory and shows His active and protective hand in not only in your own life but in others' lives as well.
It was also worth it all to learn that God's plans are the best plans. Nothing you could ever plan yourself would be even close to what He had/still has in mind for you. This is another cause for you to give all the glory to God.
Never forget to do that in all you do.
With the hopes that you'll continue to grow in the grace and knowledge of Him,
Me.
Monday, September 17, 2012
Sinking in a Sea of Stress
It's been a while since I've posted on here. And for good reason. I have been so incredibly busy with school and homework and trying to keep up with my family, friends, and boyfriend. I've come to find out very quickly that taking 18 hours is quite stressful. In fact, I stayed home from classes today because I've been sick all day, and it's probably stress-related.
I don't handle stress well. I try to on the outside, but I get so worried about getting everything done and doing it right that the following happens: 1. I am too focused on trying to get stuff done more than actually learning what I'm working on, and 2. I become physically worn out, leaving my body a wreck that makes me become sick easily.
I'd like to think I am a hard worker; at least I try to be. I feel like I've worked harder this semester out of the three semesters I've been in college. I think it's because I HAVE to work hard . . . with so much going on, I don't want to fall behind and slack off in a class, thus leaving my grades to slip and fall. I think that's what my problem is: I've become so focused on getting good grades that I'm making myself sick over it. Why am I doing this to myself?
I talked with my mom about it tonight, and I came to the conclusion that this is the first semester that I actually care about succeeding in school. Not just "getting by," but REALLY succeeding. Not that I haven't wanted to in the past, I think it's just more apparent this semester. I've been pushing myself to be perfect, which I know deep down that it's not possible. So why do I do it?
It comes down to this: deep down, I have a huge struggle with pride. I think everyone does to some extent, but it hasn't really affected me until this semester. I look at my classmates who look like they are able to perform so easily and flawlessly, and here I am practicing my tail off in my music and feel like I am so behind and lacking in talent compared to them. I look at my peers and see that they are excelling in all of their music classes with such ease; I spend hours and hours on one assignment, and feel more stressed about getting it done than learning it, and end up feeling stupid compared to them. That's just it: I'm comparing myself to other people. Why can't I be a super genius like them? Why can't I be the great singer like some of my peers are? Why does it seem like they excel with almost no effort while I toil away studying for hours, giving up all of my free time for homework, and feel like I'm getting nowhere?
It got to the point where I was debating with myself last night over whether or not I should even be a music major. (I came to the conclusion that I need to stick with it, because I'm almost halfway through with my music classes anyway.)
There are two things I need to do to fix all of my problems/worries/stresses. (Yes, only two!)
I don't handle stress well. I try to on the outside, but I get so worried about getting everything done and doing it right that the following happens: 1. I am too focused on trying to get stuff done more than actually learning what I'm working on, and 2. I become physically worn out, leaving my body a wreck that makes me become sick easily.
I'd like to think I am a hard worker; at least I try to be. I feel like I've worked harder this semester out of the three semesters I've been in college. I think it's because I HAVE to work hard . . . with so much going on, I don't want to fall behind and slack off in a class, thus leaving my grades to slip and fall. I think that's what my problem is: I've become so focused on getting good grades that I'm making myself sick over it. Why am I doing this to myself?
I talked with my mom about it tonight, and I came to the conclusion that this is the first semester that I actually care about succeeding in school. Not just "getting by," but REALLY succeeding. Not that I haven't wanted to in the past, I think it's just more apparent this semester. I've been pushing myself to be perfect, which I know deep down that it's not possible. So why do I do it?
It comes down to this: deep down, I have a huge struggle with pride. I think everyone does to some extent, but it hasn't really affected me until this semester. I look at my classmates who look like they are able to perform so easily and flawlessly, and here I am practicing my tail off in my music and feel like I am so behind and lacking in talent compared to them. I look at my peers and see that they are excelling in all of their music classes with such ease; I spend hours and hours on one assignment, and feel more stressed about getting it done than learning it, and end up feeling stupid compared to them. That's just it: I'm comparing myself to other people. Why can't I be a super genius like them? Why can't I be the great singer like some of my peers are? Why does it seem like they excel with almost no effort while I toil away studying for hours, giving up all of my free time for homework, and feel like I'm getting nowhere?
It got to the point where I was debating with myself last night over whether or not I should even be a music major. (I came to the conclusion that I need to stick with it, because I'm almost halfway through with my music classes anyway.)
There are two things I need to do to fix all of my problems/worries/stresses. (Yes, only two!)
- Take one thing at a time.
- DO NOT COMPARE MYSELF TO OTHER PEOPLE.
Seems too easy, right? Especially since I've come to find that most things in my life right now are hard. I guess it's easier said than done. If I keep telling myself over and over that I AM making good progress and that I am doing my best, maybe I'll believe it for real. As far as stress goes in getting everything done, I have my momma to thank for telling me to just take one thing at a time. That's all I really can do . . . I would love good grades and I'd like for them to reflect the hard work I've been doing, but you know what? Grades do not define who I am. I am a child of God! As long as I try my best and rely on Him for peace and contentment, then that's all that matters. I can glorify Him by doing my best but if I look over at what someone else is doing and get jealous or become slightly uncontent, I am not glorifying Him the way I should.
I'm hoping I can get back up on my feet tomorrow morning and get back to work so I don't fall behind . . . but this time, with a good attitude and to work hard for the RIGHT reasons.
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Another Hard Pill To Swallow.
Yesterday morning, I went to callbacks for this year's musical at JBU: You're A Good Man, Charlie Brown. We first learned some choreography (which was fun, even with my foot still slightly handicapped), read aloud lines, and sang some of the songs. It was a lot of fun, and it looked promising. I felt like I had done a really good job.
The list of the cast was sent out tonight. I was placed in the chorus. Which is not a bad thing at all! I get to be in the musical and sing with a handful of other girls that I've come to know and love. :) However, when I first found out that I didn't get a lead part (which was really only two female parts overall to be picked for, meaning a very slim chance for most of us girls), I was slightly crushed. I don't handle rejection well. It's not that I get mad at people or anything, but deep down, it turns into me beating myself up about it: what's wrong with me? I thought I had done well, was I not good enough? It seems like every time I try out for a play or something of the sort, I always receive or feel some sort of rejection every time I get the slightest of hopes up. (And people wonder why I am not confident in myself . . .)
As I was thinking about that tonight, one of the songs from the musical, "The Doctor Is In," came to my mind. In the song, Charlie Brown is depressed and Lucy tries to help him "dig deep" to get to the real problem and give him advice. Charlie Brown proceeds to tell her all of the things that are wrong with him, and he questions why he was "born just to be, one small person as thoroughly, totally, utterly blah as me." Lucy, meaning well, continues with even more things that are wrong with him and that no one likes him. (Poor guy!) But then, she goes on to say that there is hope for him, because even though he isn't musical, happy, etc. like everyone else, there was no one else like him: "the singular, remarkable, unique Charlie Brown." To which he realizes: "I'm me!" There is so much truth to be gained from this song, and the wonderful thing about this musical is that the truth in these songs doesn't just apply to kids; it applies to everyone, adults included. Everyone tends to feel insecure about themselves at some point. But we are all unique and have different gifts that are important in the kingdom of God. Sometimes, I wish I could sing like my friends who have voices of angels. Sometimes I wish I had grown up more a theater kid like some of my friends who are fantastic at playing the part. A lot of the time, I feel average or mediocre at a lot of things. I feel like Charlie Brown: "thoroughly, totally, utterly blah."But I have to remember that "I'm me!" All of 1 Corinthians 12 talks about how many people have different gifts that can be used to connect and unite the body; no one person is more important than the others. Behind-the-scenes people are just as, if not more important than the actors because they keep the show going and flowing more smoothly. I need to remember that each person has been given different gifts that can be used to further His kingdom. God has given me gifts that He hasn't given to other people.
And you know what? I am still in the musical, and I'm even singing in it!! I just didn't get a speaking/lead role. Practically speaking, where I was placed was the best decision: I'm taking 18 hours this semester as a music major (which is really hard and whenever I tell people that, they always pat me on the shoulder and "comfort" me . . . which kinda scares me . . .) I'm going to be really really busy with other things besides the musical. Sure, it's always been one of my dreams to be a lead/important role in a musical, but there will be other opportunities for me to try again. Then I have to wonder if I will ever get to have that opportunity. I hope so, but maybe that's not what God has in mind for me. Whatever is supposed to happen, will happen. God will do what is ultimately best for everyone. Sometimes He completely changes the plans I have, but it ALWAYS turns out better than I could've ever imagined. He's done a good job of that in my own life so far. ;)
Yes, humility is yet another hard pill to swallow, but a necessary one for everyone. I pray that I would make much more of Him and much less of me, that my pride would diminish in size every day. May He be glorified through me no matter what I do.
The list of the cast was sent out tonight. I was placed in the chorus. Which is not a bad thing at all! I get to be in the musical and sing with a handful of other girls that I've come to know and love. :) However, when I first found out that I didn't get a lead part (which was really only two female parts overall to be picked for, meaning a very slim chance for most of us girls), I was slightly crushed. I don't handle rejection well. It's not that I get mad at people or anything, but deep down, it turns into me beating myself up about it: what's wrong with me? I thought I had done well, was I not good enough? It seems like every time I try out for a play or something of the sort, I always receive or feel some sort of rejection every time I get the slightest of hopes up. (And people wonder why I am not confident in myself . . .)
As I was thinking about that tonight, one of the songs from the musical, "The Doctor Is In," came to my mind. In the song, Charlie Brown is depressed and Lucy tries to help him "dig deep" to get to the real problem and give him advice. Charlie Brown proceeds to tell her all of the things that are wrong with him, and he questions why he was "born just to be, one small person as thoroughly, totally, utterly blah as me." Lucy, meaning well, continues with even more things that are wrong with him and that no one likes him. (Poor guy!) But then, she goes on to say that there is hope for him, because even though he isn't musical, happy, etc. like everyone else, there was no one else like him: "the singular, remarkable, unique Charlie Brown." To which he realizes: "I'm me!" There is so much truth to be gained from this song, and the wonderful thing about this musical is that the truth in these songs doesn't just apply to kids; it applies to everyone, adults included. Everyone tends to feel insecure about themselves at some point. But we are all unique and have different gifts that are important in the kingdom of God. Sometimes, I wish I could sing like my friends who have voices of angels. Sometimes I wish I had grown up more a theater kid like some of my friends who are fantastic at playing the part. A lot of the time, I feel average or mediocre at a lot of things. I feel like Charlie Brown: "thoroughly, totally, utterly blah."But I have to remember that "I'm me!" All of 1 Corinthians 12 talks about how many people have different gifts that can be used to connect and unite the body; no one person is more important than the others. Behind-the-scenes people are just as, if not more important than the actors because they keep the show going and flowing more smoothly. I need to remember that each person has been given different gifts that can be used to further His kingdom. God has given me gifts that He hasn't given to other people.
And you know what? I am still in the musical, and I'm even singing in it!! I just didn't get a speaking/lead role. Practically speaking, where I was placed was the best decision: I'm taking 18 hours this semester as a music major (which is really hard and whenever I tell people that, they always pat me on the shoulder and "comfort" me . . . which kinda scares me . . .) I'm going to be really really busy with other things besides the musical. Sure, it's always been one of my dreams to be a lead/important role in a musical, but there will be other opportunities for me to try again. Then I have to wonder if I will ever get to have that opportunity. I hope so, but maybe that's not what God has in mind for me. Whatever is supposed to happen, will happen. God will do what is ultimately best for everyone. Sometimes He completely changes the plans I have, but it ALWAYS turns out better than I could've ever imagined. He's done a good job of that in my own life so far. ;)
Yes, humility is yet another hard pill to swallow, but a necessary one for everyone. I pray that I would make much more of Him and much less of me, that my pride would diminish in size every day. May He be glorified through me no matter what I do.
Sunday, August 12, 2012
A Hard Pill To Swallow.
If any of you know me well enough, you know that I hate conflict. One of my spiritual gifts is being a peacekeeper. If people are arguing, I get pretty nervous about it, because I know it can escalate quickly. If people are really fighting, like hurtful mud-slinging, I might cry. Seriously. That sounds childish almost, but it's true. I have a very tender heart when it comes to arguments and fighting because I used to be one of those people that always wanted to pick the fight, to be right about everything, always wanted to have the last word in. Let me share something personal with you.
I've struggled with legalism. I think a lot of Christians have, and still do. However, mine wasn't just a little problem. It was to the point where I was hurtful and hateful to people because of it. I was one of those people who argued with others about the littlest things, things that weren't worth arguing about. Somehow, that to me, was my crusade; if people were attacking me for these things, then of course I was one of Jesus' soldiers! I was fighting FOR Him. Right?
Then came the night when one of my friends called me a Pharisee over Facebook. I was furious, how could a friend like that do this to me? To this day, that comment still hurts me. I thought to myself, "Well obviously, [this person] doesn't understand." While I don't think it was right for this person to call me that online, they opened my eyes to what I really was. Very slowly, but it was a starting point.
Then, months down the road, I realized what kind of a person I was. My eyes were finally opened to the legalistic thinking I had been submerged in for so long. I recognized that I was living in sin, and I finally backed out of it. I became so turned off by everything appearing to be legalistic, that it got to the point very recently where I was leaning more towards the other side: which is the thinking that since works don't save you, you are free in Christ to do whatever the heck you want. That is equally dangerous.
In more recent months, I've gotten into some pretty heavy debates with my mom over things she finds in the Bible. Mind you, I don't completely disagree with things she says. I agree with her about most things. But there are some things in the past that she brought up that I didn't think were important enough to argue about. If she felt convicted by it, then she should/shouldn't do these things. It almost got to the point of where I was literally thinking, "What's true for you may or may not be true for me." This is part of what the postmodern world believes.
You're probably thinking, "Oh great, here comes things I don't understand nor do I want to understand them." Please bear with me for just a minute!!! Postmodernism is one of the biggest world views out there today. In a nutshell, it preaches tolerance in the most extreme way and rejects any sort of truth, and says, "People can earn salvation or get to heaven in their own way; what's right for someone else may or may not be right for me." That COMPLETELY contradicts the Bible. Jesus said Himself, "I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life. NO ONE comes to the Father except through me." John 14:6 is a very well-known Bible verse. I had it memorized when I was 7. However, I don't think a lot of people believe this to be true. [Of course, if they're postmodernist thinkers, they wouldn't believe anything to be "true."]
You'd be surprised at how many evangelical thinkers and scholars believe that everyone will be saved in the end. This is also contradictory to the Bible. Matthew 7:13 says, "Enter by the narrow gate. For the gate is wide and the way is easy that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many. For the gate is narrow and the way is hard that leads to life, and those who find it are few." This means that not all people will be saved!!!
The sermon was on the real Jesus today in church. The passage was Luke 12:49-53. [I encourage you to read it for yourself, even though I'm going to pull from it.] In verse 51, Jesus says, "Do you think that I have come to give peace on earth? No, I tell you, but rather division." Then it went into how the Gospel has and will continue to divide households. Then, Pastor Brad also brought up John 3:17, where he appears to contradict himself when he says, "For God did not send His son to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through him." Confusing, right? But then, the verse after (v. 18) explains itself: "Whoever believes in him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe is condemned already, because he has not believed in the name of the only Son of God." Basically, Jesus came not to judge/condemn, but rather to expose the false believers and set them apart from real believers.
Jesus was not popular with many people because he didn't appeal to many people! He came to die for sinners who recognized their fallenness. The Pharisees didn't understand that. Jesus preached against the Pharisees, because they thought they were above being saved.
"Isn't Jesus the Prince of Peace, though?" you may ask. Pastor Brad also gave a good point when he said this: Peace is conditional. You reject the Prince of Peace, you reject the peace he brings. I also loved the illustration he used after that: Jesus is not a Mr. Potato Head that we can mold and shape to our liking. He is who he is.
I think a lot of people, including me, tend to lean toward the loving, gentle side of Jesus. Which is good, but that needs to be balanced with the other parts of him. He said himself that he came to bring division. Are we comfortable with that? Most of us aren't. Even more, are we okay with the fact that he isn't someone we can mold to our liking? Will we still follow Him even and especially when things get hard and we get persecuted or made fun of for following Him?
I say all of this to make this point: truth is real, and it is important. Following Jesus and being constantly in His word is crucial, so that we are able to follow the REAL Jesus, and not just a person we've made up in our heads. We need these things to show that we are followers of Christ. This should not be confused with legalism. We also can't just go the other way and be like, "Hey, I'm free in Christ, I can do whatever the heck I want!" If we obey His commands, then we love him. Obedience is the fruit of our salvation; it's the proof that we are in Christ, NOT the means to become saved. This is something huge to grasp, and it doesn't come easily. I'm not saying that I understand it completely or know everything, because I don't. But I do know these things that I've stated above, and I think they're very VERY important.
We also need to find that balance of sharing the truth in love. We are commanded to. We shouldn't be afraid to do so. I personally shouldn't be afraid of conflict; arguments can be very good and beneficial in strengthening what we believe. However, I know they escalate very quickly most of the time, and can get very ugly and heated, so that is why I tend to shy away from them. But I believe that we can share the truth without getting ugly. Our responsibility is to share with others the truth, and they can choose to either accept it or reject it. Most of the time, people will reject the truth, because the way is narrow that leads to life. And you know what? Not to be hateful or mean, but they'll have to answer for the things they've said and done, just like I will. It's okay if people reject what you have to say. What matters is that you've done the right thing and you've done it the right way.
This was a lot to write about . . . If you want to discuss this more, please message me over Facebook or email! I'd love to talk about it and discuss it more (of course, in a loving way). I love you all, and I hope you are at least a little encouraged by what I write. God bless!
I've struggled with legalism. I think a lot of Christians have, and still do. However, mine wasn't just a little problem. It was to the point where I was hurtful and hateful to people because of it. I was one of those people who argued with others about the littlest things, things that weren't worth arguing about. Somehow, that to me, was my crusade; if people were attacking me for these things, then of course I was one of Jesus' soldiers! I was fighting FOR Him. Right?
Then came the night when one of my friends called me a Pharisee over Facebook. I was furious, how could a friend like that do this to me? To this day, that comment still hurts me. I thought to myself, "Well obviously, [this person] doesn't understand." While I don't think it was right for this person to call me that online, they opened my eyes to what I really was. Very slowly, but it was a starting point.
Then, months down the road, I realized what kind of a person I was. My eyes were finally opened to the legalistic thinking I had been submerged in for so long. I recognized that I was living in sin, and I finally backed out of it. I became so turned off by everything appearing to be legalistic, that it got to the point very recently where I was leaning more towards the other side: which is the thinking that since works don't save you, you are free in Christ to do whatever the heck you want. That is equally dangerous.
In more recent months, I've gotten into some pretty heavy debates with my mom over things she finds in the Bible. Mind you, I don't completely disagree with things she says. I agree with her about most things. But there are some things in the past that she brought up that I didn't think were important enough to argue about. If she felt convicted by it, then she should/shouldn't do these things. It almost got to the point of where I was literally thinking, "What's true for you may or may not be true for me." This is part of what the postmodern world believes.
You're probably thinking, "Oh great, here comes things I don't understand nor do I want to understand them." Please bear with me for just a minute!!! Postmodernism is one of the biggest world views out there today. In a nutshell, it preaches tolerance in the most extreme way and rejects any sort of truth, and says, "People can earn salvation or get to heaven in their own way; what's right for someone else may or may not be right for me." That COMPLETELY contradicts the Bible. Jesus said Himself, "I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life. NO ONE comes to the Father except through me." John 14:6 is a very well-known Bible verse. I had it memorized when I was 7. However, I don't think a lot of people believe this to be true. [Of course, if they're postmodernist thinkers, they wouldn't believe anything to be "true."]
You'd be surprised at how many evangelical thinkers and scholars believe that everyone will be saved in the end. This is also contradictory to the Bible. Matthew 7:13 says, "Enter by the narrow gate. For the gate is wide and the way is easy that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many. For the gate is narrow and the way is hard that leads to life, and those who find it are few." This means that not all people will be saved!!!
The sermon was on the real Jesus today in church. The passage was Luke 12:49-53. [I encourage you to read it for yourself, even though I'm going to pull from it.] In verse 51, Jesus says, "Do you think that I have come to give peace on earth? No, I tell you, but rather division." Then it went into how the Gospel has and will continue to divide households. Then, Pastor Brad also brought up John 3:17, where he appears to contradict himself when he says, "For God did not send His son to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through him." Confusing, right? But then, the verse after (v. 18) explains itself: "Whoever believes in him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe is condemned already, because he has not believed in the name of the only Son of God." Basically, Jesus came not to judge/condemn, but rather to expose the false believers and set them apart from real believers.
Jesus was not popular with many people because he didn't appeal to many people! He came to die for sinners who recognized their fallenness. The Pharisees didn't understand that. Jesus preached against the Pharisees, because they thought they were above being saved.
"Isn't Jesus the Prince of Peace, though?" you may ask. Pastor Brad also gave a good point when he said this: Peace is conditional. You reject the Prince of Peace, you reject the peace he brings. I also loved the illustration he used after that: Jesus is not a Mr. Potato Head that we can mold and shape to our liking. He is who he is.
I think a lot of people, including me, tend to lean toward the loving, gentle side of Jesus. Which is good, but that needs to be balanced with the other parts of him. He said himself that he came to bring division. Are we comfortable with that? Most of us aren't. Even more, are we okay with the fact that he isn't someone we can mold to our liking? Will we still follow Him even and especially when things get hard and we get persecuted or made fun of for following Him?
I say all of this to make this point: truth is real, and it is important. Following Jesus and being constantly in His word is crucial, so that we are able to follow the REAL Jesus, and not just a person we've made up in our heads. We need these things to show that we are followers of Christ. This should not be confused with legalism. We also can't just go the other way and be like, "Hey, I'm free in Christ, I can do whatever the heck I want!" If we obey His commands, then we love him. Obedience is the fruit of our salvation; it's the proof that we are in Christ, NOT the means to become saved. This is something huge to grasp, and it doesn't come easily. I'm not saying that I understand it completely or know everything, because I don't. But I do know these things that I've stated above, and I think they're very VERY important.
We also need to find that balance of sharing the truth in love. We are commanded to. We shouldn't be afraid to do so. I personally shouldn't be afraid of conflict; arguments can be very good and beneficial in strengthening what we believe. However, I know they escalate very quickly most of the time, and can get very ugly and heated, so that is why I tend to shy away from them. But I believe that we can share the truth without getting ugly. Our responsibility is to share with others the truth, and they can choose to either accept it or reject it. Most of the time, people will reject the truth, because the way is narrow that leads to life. And you know what? Not to be hateful or mean, but they'll have to answer for the things they've said and done, just like I will. It's okay if people reject what you have to say. What matters is that you've done the right thing and you've done it the right way.
This was a lot to write about . . . If you want to discuss this more, please message me over Facebook or email! I'd love to talk about it and discuss it more (of course, in a loving way). I love you all, and I hope you are at least a little encouraged by what I write. God bless!
Thursday, August 9, 2012
Adventures in CO/KS and More Updates.
Well, I haven't posted on here in a while. As I've been able to do more things, I've gotten more busy in the past few weeks. I guess I'll go ahead and spill what all has happened!
I've been spending more time with other friends that I haven't seen in a long time (those that weren't still working or being camp counselors). Getting coffee, lunch, hanging at my house, just catching up with old gal friends that I haven't talked to in ages. I always love hearing about how their lives are going and what's new and big that's going on. I love telling them about how my summer "got flip-turned upside down" [Fresh Prince, what whaaaat.] It IS a really great story, and of course, it couldn't have been written any better, because it all came from God. I give all the glory to Him.
I've also been keeping up with physical therapy and the occasional orthopedist appointments. It's been a little over 11 weeks since the accident now. [Isn't it crazy how time acts? While you're living through it, it seems like an eternity, going at a snail's pace, but when you look back, it went by so fast and you wonder where it went.] At this point in time, I am only technically supposed to be 75% weight-bearing on my foot, but I've been walking around my house barefoot getting the feel of walking again . . . without the boot on. Next week, I'm pretty sure I'll be rid of the boot AND crutches. I'm definitely crossing my fingers and toes!!! My foot is still pretty swollen at times, but a lot of the time, it looks SO much better and looks more like my other, normal foot. When I was up in CO, my friend Shane kept telling me that I'll be running in three weeks. Although he was partially kidding, I want to be running that soon SO badly. I want to wear shoes on both feet. I want to walk without hobbling. I want to climb trees. I want to be free of my crutches and my boot. I don't wanna have to worry about people stepping on my foot or rebreaking it. But all of that will come with time. I have come a LONG way since the accident, and I will continue to get stronger and stronger until I have completely regained my muscle and ability to walk and run that I have lost.
I had a really big adventure last week! Probably one of, if not my biggest one yet. Alisha picked me up from my house and drove me back to her house in Tulsa last Wednesday afternoon. The next morning, we headed to the airport. After Alisha's mom dropped us off, we were by ourselves. It hit me: we're not with our parents. We were flying by ourselves. For the first time. We were responsible adults. What?!
We checked in, and the lady was really nice, she pointed the way and said it wasn't far for me to crutch around on. The security people were really nice too, I didn't even have to take my boot off, and they just wiped it down. The guy looking at stuff through the x-ray machine thingy saw I had liquids in my carry-on (because my bag for the week was small enough to be a carry-on), and he gave one bag to me and the other to Alisha. Afterwards, he told us to have a nice flight. I said, "You too!" Oops. He laughed and so did we. We stopped by Starbucks and had breakfast, then walked to our terminal waiting area and sat down. We had plenty of time. Getting on the plane was no problem at all either, which was surprising because of my crutches and such.
We landed in Denver, and that to me felt like a nightmare. It was SO much bigger than Tulsa, and Shane had tried to give us directions to where he was, and it took us longer than we wanted, I think. Eventually we found him. I don't know about Alisha, but I squealed when I caught sight of him! We all gave each other big hugs, went to go find Alisha's suitcase, and then packed up his car, and headed to Greeley (about an hour or so away north of Denver). We caught up and were really hyper. I remember it was an hour behind our usual time, so we were really hungry by the time we reached Greeley. Shane had some friends come by and meet us and catch up with each other. We eventually reached Shane's house where we unloaded and rested.
The next morning, Shane, Alisha, and I headed to Colby, KS for the wedding. Shane had to be there at 3, and the time zone changed again, so we almost didn't make it in time for him to get fitted for his tux. But we made it! Robbie's mom came and got Alisha and I from a park downtown, and took us to the hotel where they were staying to change for the rehearsal. The rehearsal lasted about 1.5 hours, not bad at all, and the rehearsal dinner was wonderful - it was tropical themed and they had so much delicious food! All of the JBU guys and gals sat at a table, including future bride and groom, so it was just like old times sitting in the JBU cafeteria, laughing and having a good time. Ariel took us back to her house, and we stayed cooped up in our room for the rest of the night.
Saturday morning, Alisha and I got ready and headed to the church to get dressed with the bridesmaids and bride. We walked in, and Ariel's dress was breathtaking. It still hadn't hit me that she and Robbie were finally getting married . . . Alisha and I got dressed and socialized with the other girls and moms. Then came the moment when Ariel put on her veil. I took a pic of her on my phone because she was just so unbelievably radiant. She left to go get the "first look" pictures with Robbie, and I stared at the picture and started tearing up. I couldn't help it though; she just looked so incredibly beautiful. Then, time for the wedding came. Alisha and I were privileged to sing the processional when our friends walked down the aisle, including the beautiful bride. We sat down to watch the rest of the ceremony. I most definitely cried through most of it . . . It made me think of my own "someday." It may be a few years, it may be ten years before I get married, but this day for Ariel is what every girl dreams about: walking down the aisle, wearing a beautiful white dress, and a radiant smile on your face, eyes on the man you'll be spending the rest of your life with. It's definitely something to look forward to! Anywho, the ceremony was beautiful, and I don't think it's still hit me yet that Robbie and Ariel are married . . . Maybe it'll hit me when we're all back at JBU . . .
We (Shane, Alisha, DJ, Nathan, Ua, and I) all drove back to Greeley the next day, changed into swim clothes, and went to Windsor Lake, which is a lake, but it also has a beach full of sand, and it's roped off at a certain point so people can swim without getting hit by boats out in the deeper parts of the lake. Swimming in that lake has been the only athletic thing I've done pretty much all summer besides physical therapy. It felt so good and it was so fun! Monday, we all drove to Estes Park, a valley in the CO mountains near Greeley, which was a big tourist attraction with a lot of shops and such. I got so many souvenirs there . . . Afterwards, we drove to a spot on the way down from the mountains by the river, and we found a spot where I could sit on the shore and stick my feet in the cold water and take a break from being in my boot. Tuesday, we packed up and flew back home. It was such a wonderful trip - I would most definitely do it all over again if I could. Maybe someday, we can repeat this trip . . .
Since I've been home, I've done quite a bit of art projects to keep me busy, as well as playing guitar and singing. I found out that I'll be playing music for the Freshman Move-In Cookout on the Friday night before Orientation officially begins. Which is fun, but really intimidating at the same time because 1. I'm the only one playing, 2. I have to bring my own equipment, and 3. I'll be playing for at least 2.5 hours. Which is fine, because I'll be able to take as many breaks as I need, but still . . . At least this is getting me playing music in front of people again.
Orientation training is in less than a week, and the actual thing is in a little over a week! Summer is seriously almost over. Goodness . . . It has been a roller coaster, for sure. I wouldn't repeat the accident, but I am glad it happened, because a lot of good came from it. A lot was learned from it.
I hope to still update my blog during the school year to keep all of you up-to-date with what's going on in my sophomore year of college.
I love you all. To God alone be the glory.
I've been spending more time with other friends that I haven't seen in a long time (those that weren't still working or being camp counselors). Getting coffee, lunch, hanging at my house, just catching up with old gal friends that I haven't talked to in ages. I always love hearing about how their lives are going and what's new and big that's going on. I love telling them about how my summer "got flip-turned upside down" [Fresh Prince, what whaaaat.] It IS a really great story, and of course, it couldn't have been written any better, because it all came from God. I give all the glory to Him.
I've also been keeping up with physical therapy and the occasional orthopedist appointments. It's been a little over 11 weeks since the accident now. [Isn't it crazy how time acts? While you're living through it, it seems like an eternity, going at a snail's pace, but when you look back, it went by so fast and you wonder where it went.] At this point in time, I am only technically supposed to be 75% weight-bearing on my foot, but I've been walking around my house barefoot getting the feel of walking again . . . without the boot on. Next week, I'm pretty sure I'll be rid of the boot AND crutches. I'm definitely crossing my fingers and toes!!! My foot is still pretty swollen at times, but a lot of the time, it looks SO much better and looks more like my other, normal foot. When I was up in CO, my friend Shane kept telling me that I'll be running in three weeks. Although he was partially kidding, I want to be running that soon SO badly. I want to wear shoes on both feet. I want to walk without hobbling. I want to climb trees. I want to be free of my crutches and my boot. I don't wanna have to worry about people stepping on my foot or rebreaking it. But all of that will come with time. I have come a LONG way since the accident, and I will continue to get stronger and stronger until I have completely regained my muscle and ability to walk and run that I have lost.
I had a really big adventure last week! Probably one of, if not my biggest one yet. Alisha picked me up from my house and drove me back to her house in Tulsa last Wednesday afternoon. The next morning, we headed to the airport. After Alisha's mom dropped us off, we were by ourselves. It hit me: we're not with our parents. We were flying by ourselves. For the first time. We were responsible adults. What?!
We checked in, and the lady was really nice, she pointed the way and said it wasn't far for me to crutch around on. The security people were really nice too, I didn't even have to take my boot off, and they just wiped it down. The guy looking at stuff through the x-ray machine thingy saw I had liquids in my carry-on (because my bag for the week was small enough to be a carry-on), and he gave one bag to me and the other to Alisha. Afterwards, he told us to have a nice flight. I said, "You too!" Oops. He laughed and so did we. We stopped by Starbucks and had breakfast, then walked to our terminal waiting area and sat down. We had plenty of time. Getting on the plane was no problem at all either, which was surprising because of my crutches and such.
We landed in Denver, and that to me felt like a nightmare. It was SO much bigger than Tulsa, and Shane had tried to give us directions to where he was, and it took us longer than we wanted, I think. Eventually we found him. I don't know about Alisha, but I squealed when I caught sight of him! We all gave each other big hugs, went to go find Alisha's suitcase, and then packed up his car, and headed to Greeley (about an hour or so away north of Denver). We caught up and were really hyper. I remember it was an hour behind our usual time, so we were really hungry by the time we reached Greeley. Shane had some friends come by and meet us and catch up with each other. We eventually reached Shane's house where we unloaded and rested.
The next morning, Shane, Alisha, and I headed to Colby, KS for the wedding. Shane had to be there at 3, and the time zone changed again, so we almost didn't make it in time for him to get fitted for his tux. But we made it! Robbie's mom came and got Alisha and I from a park downtown, and took us to the hotel where they were staying to change for the rehearsal. The rehearsal lasted about 1.5 hours, not bad at all, and the rehearsal dinner was wonderful - it was tropical themed and they had so much delicious food! All of the JBU guys and gals sat at a table, including future bride and groom, so it was just like old times sitting in the JBU cafeteria, laughing and having a good time. Ariel took us back to her house, and we stayed cooped up in our room for the rest of the night.
Saturday morning, Alisha and I got ready and headed to the church to get dressed with the bridesmaids and bride. We walked in, and Ariel's dress was breathtaking. It still hadn't hit me that she and Robbie were finally getting married . . . Alisha and I got dressed and socialized with the other girls and moms. Then came the moment when Ariel put on her veil. I took a pic of her on my phone because she was just so unbelievably radiant. She left to go get the "first look" pictures with Robbie, and I stared at the picture and started tearing up. I couldn't help it though; she just looked so incredibly beautiful. Then, time for the wedding came. Alisha and I were privileged to sing the processional when our friends walked down the aisle, including the beautiful bride. We sat down to watch the rest of the ceremony. I most definitely cried through most of it . . . It made me think of my own "someday." It may be a few years, it may be ten years before I get married, but this day for Ariel is what every girl dreams about: walking down the aisle, wearing a beautiful white dress, and a radiant smile on your face, eyes on the man you'll be spending the rest of your life with. It's definitely something to look forward to! Anywho, the ceremony was beautiful, and I don't think it's still hit me yet that Robbie and Ariel are married . . . Maybe it'll hit me when we're all back at JBU . . .
We (Shane, Alisha, DJ, Nathan, Ua, and I) all drove back to Greeley the next day, changed into swim clothes, and went to Windsor Lake, which is a lake, but it also has a beach full of sand, and it's roped off at a certain point so people can swim without getting hit by boats out in the deeper parts of the lake. Swimming in that lake has been the only athletic thing I've done pretty much all summer besides physical therapy. It felt so good and it was so fun! Monday, we all drove to Estes Park, a valley in the CO mountains near Greeley, which was a big tourist attraction with a lot of shops and such. I got so many souvenirs there . . . Afterwards, we drove to a spot on the way down from the mountains by the river, and we found a spot where I could sit on the shore and stick my feet in the cold water and take a break from being in my boot. Tuesday, we packed up and flew back home. It was such a wonderful trip - I would most definitely do it all over again if I could. Maybe someday, we can repeat this trip . . .
Since I've been home, I've done quite a bit of art projects to keep me busy, as well as playing guitar and singing. I found out that I'll be playing music for the Freshman Move-In Cookout on the Friday night before Orientation officially begins. Which is fun, but really intimidating at the same time because 1. I'm the only one playing, 2. I have to bring my own equipment, and 3. I'll be playing for at least 2.5 hours. Which is fine, because I'll be able to take as many breaks as I need, but still . . . At least this is getting me playing music in front of people again.
Orientation training is in less than a week, and the actual thing is in a little over a week! Summer is seriously almost over. Goodness . . . It has been a roller coaster, for sure. I wouldn't repeat the accident, but I am glad it happened, because a lot of good came from it. A lot was learned from it.
I hope to still update my blog during the school year to keep all of you up-to-date with what's going on in my sophomore year of college.
I love you all. To God alone be the glory.
Friday, July 20, 2012
Hope From A Flower (A story by me).
Not so long ago, there was a young man and woman who planted a garden. All they had to start out with was one seed. They placed the seed in the most fertile soil, the thickest and richest you could ever sift through your fingers. They took time out of their day to water it and fertilize it every day. They shielded it from overwatering/flooding, and made sure it was never too dry.
Over time, the seed grew into a tiny, green sprout. The young couple kept their constant care and watch over this little plant. They knew it was delicate and needed extra care to make it grow just right. Then, the sprout became a light green stem with leaves. A little while after that, a bud appeared at the top of this strong stem. The couple continued to pour their love into this small plant. It took longer than they thought, but the bud finally opened and brought forth the most beautiful deep purple flower, and it was called Lisianthus. The couple had cared for it very well as the beautiful flower had developed, and they now thought it was time to send it to someone whom they thought needed hope from its beauty. They remembered that they had a younger neighbor down the street who had broken her arm.
The young woman tenderly dug up the flower, careful to lift up all of its roots as well, and placed it all into a light brown ceramic pot. She grabbed a little baggy of plant food, and had bought a small watering can for their neighbor. Then, she was on her way down the street!
She knocked on the girl's door. The younger girl answered, with a grim smile on her face. She seemed to be in her lower twenties. "Come in," she said with a piece of depression in her eyes. The women talked with one another for a little while. The woman said to the girl after a while, "I've brought you something I hope will cheer you up!" The girl took the pot from the woman's hands and thanked her. After a few more minutes of small talk, the woman left. The girl took the flower, with a little bit of trouble because of her cast, and placed it on the kitchen counter next to the beautiful silver sink and walked out of the room.
Lisianthus was left all alone. She thought to herself, "Oh, she'll be back to water and feed me, I'm sure of it!" She waited . . . And waited . . . Hours later, the girl reappeared. She made herself dinner and ate it at the kitchen table all by herself. It was quiet except for the occasional muttering she would make, "Oh, if only I were healed again" or "Oh, if I only had a husband to help me." Lisianthus felt sad for the poor girl. "Maybe I can make her happy!" she thought. She also thought that maybe the girl would see her and remember to feed and water her. But the girl just walked right past her, washing the dishes and putting them in the dish washer. After she closed the dish washer, the girl looked up to see the flower sitting perfectly still in the pot. She said to herself, "Oh, I'll give it a little water, it looks healthy enough." She filled the small watering can halfway full and watered the thirsty plant. After the girl walked out of the room, Lisianthus gave a tiny sigh of relief. "She didn't forget me after all! Maybe she'll be good to me. I hope I can make her happy."
The next day, the girl was late for work, so she grabbed a granola bar and a bottle of water, and ran out of the door in a hurry, forgetting to feed or water the flower. For hours, poor Lisianthus waited for the girl to return, but she didn't come back until midnight that night. The girl had been to a party, and she had brought a man home with her. The man got the girl into her room, and closed her door. He looked over to see the flower, and grabbed it. The flower awoke to a start, for even flowers sleep, and became scared. Who was this strange man? Where was he taking her? "I didn't even have the chance to make the girl happy!"
The man started his car and flung the flower into the passenger seat. Dirt bounced off into the leather seat of the convertible he was driving, causing the flower to gasp. The man didn't seem to hear her, though, as he sped away. His driving was reckless, and the car smelled of something strange that Lisianthus didn't recognize. Suddenly, he made a sharp turn that caused his car to flip over on its side. Lisianthus and the pot flew out of the window, breaking glass and spilling shards of it everywhere as it landed on the side of the road. Grass had cushioned her fall, but even so, the pot cracked underneath her. The air was chilly, and it was dark outside. Flashing lights came and went, paying no attention to her. She whimpered. "Maybe someone will come to help me," she cried. Within a few hours, she gradually faded into slumber.
What seemed like minutes later but was really several hours later, she woke up with a start. It had started to pour rain, and there was no shelter to protect her. In minutes, her pot would be flooded. Indeed it did flood, and she felt like she was drowning. When she felt like she could breathe no more, the sun peeked out of the clouds. She sighed of relief, because she knew that the sun was good; it would dry up most of the water in her pot. The sun did dry up the pot, days later, but it was to the point where her pot became too dry. She needed water! And soon. She tried to cry out for help, but of course humans can't hear flowers talk.
Over the course of the week, she remained on the grassy side of the road. People walked past her every day; they would look at her, but none of them did anything to help her. The green grass beneath her, her leaves, and her beautiful deep purple petals became a nasty brown color, and shriveled up. She gradually became more tired. "Am I going to die?" her voice was barely audible. She was scared to think so, but if it was to happen, she would rather die than have to live out here and be so miserable.
All of a sudden, a ragged old man was walking on the side of the road and stopped in front of the flower. He whispered a "wow!" to himself, seeing the once beautiful flower now wilted and shriveled up from the lack of care and attention that it needed. "Poor thing, I'll take you home with me," he told the flower. He picked up the flower along with her cracked pot and kept walking. He came across some men who looked like him: dusty and dirty, some of them toothless in the front. They laughed at him and called him a "tree hugger" and a "flower child." He said to them, "This poor flower has been through a lot; I'm going to restore it and protect it as long as it lives." The men laughed at him again, calling the flower a helpless cause. "It's just one stupid flower!" they chimed. But the old man kept on walking, not seeming to care about what they said.
They reached his home, which was almost a shack of a place. He opened the fragile wooden door, and entered into his kitchen. He placed the flower down by his own sink, which was also as old and cracked as he was. She noticed that he was all alone. The old man walked out of the room for a few minutes. Lisianthus was scared and thought to herself, "He's just going to mistreat me like those other people have. Nobody can help me now; I've shriveled up to nothing. Even if he does try to get me well again, what good is a flower like me anyway? I just sit and look pretty; I don't do anything special or useful." The old man walked back into the kitchen; in his right hand, he had a plastic watering can and in his left, some fertilizer. He fertilized the plant and watered it, and he did that every single day. He was careful not to overwater/feed her, but made sure she had enough. The old man replaced the cracked pot with a brand new one. He poured his love into her every day.
Finally, she did get better, and was as beautiful as she had been before. The old man continued to take care of her, even though she was better, because he knew that flowers are delicate things that should be taken care of constantly. One day, he thought out loud to the flower, "I have a little neighbor girl that lives next door who has a broken leg; I bet she would really love to have you sit in her room." Lisianthus was scared. What if she didn't want her? What if she was mistreated again? What if she didn't do what she was supposed to do? The old man picked up the pot and cradled it in his wrinkled and spotted arms as he walked out of his door, which seemed to say to her, "Nevermind that, trust me."
He knocked on another old wooden door similar to his, and a middle-aged woman answered. She welcomed him in with a genuine, smiling face and they talked for a few minutes. Then, he presented her with the potted flower, and she gasped. "It's beautiful!" she cried. "Oh, Mary would absolutely love it. That flower would brighten that dull and desperate room of hers." She took the flower and gently carried it to the child's room. Mary, the girl, who seemed to be about eight years old, was sitting up on her bed. She had been crying and the tears stained on her face were evidence of that. The woman set Lisianthus down on a small bedside table beside her. "Look what Mr. Ben brought for you!" she exclaimed with genuine delight. "Isn't that nice of him?" The little girl nodded, scrubbing the tears off of her face to hide her sadness. The woman left the room, and Lisianthus was alone with Mary. "I hope I can do my job well," she thought to herself.
The girl stared at Lisianthus for a long time, not seeming to be affected by her beauty. Then, she smiled. A genuine smile. She grabbed a piece of paper, and started drawing. Then she laughed after she had finished. She was happy again! Lisianthus was beaming. She had done her job well, thanks to the old man who had found her and made her well and beautiful again.
-- This is a story I came up with laying on my bed this afternoon. Lisianthus, the flower, represents each person on earth. No matter how strong you think you are, people are very delicate, just like flowers are. The people she was given to at first represent the sin in our world. The flower was mistreated and fell into the world of sin. Unlike the flower, we are all sinners. The old man who rescued her and restored her represents Jesus; He restores us even in a fallen world, and calls us to Himself to have a deep, intimate relationship with Him. Then, after He restores us, He sends us back out into the world for a special job, like the old man "gave" to Lisianthus: to give hope to others, by telling others about Christ, spreading the Gospel and making disciples. I hope this story encourages you!
Sunday, July 15, 2012
Dedicated To My Mom.
In about 18 minutes from the time I started writing this post, it will be my mom's birthday. (I won't tell you how old she is! *wink*) For the almost twenty years I've been alive, there has NEVER been a time when I doubted her love for me. She has always, ALWAYS been there for me, supported me in everything I've ever done and so much more . . . If I could tell you all of the things that she's done for me, we'd have a very long blog post. ;) However, I will share a few things.
First of all, she has rarely missed any special program, recital, or special event of mine. The few times she has was because she was with my sister in something special of hers that she needed to be at. Every choir concert, every dance or voice recital, I could always find her in the crowd smiling at me, watching me, cheering me on... She has always supported me in everything I've ever done. Almost every field trip for school or church trip, she would always volunteer to chaperone, just so I wouldn't feel homesick and so she could protect me. Every time I've been away from her, even now, she calls or texts me to ask how I'm doing, just to let me know that someone cares.
That leads to another thing - I can tell her everything. What I'm feeling, what's going on in my life, thoughts, convictions... Anything. She's always ready to listen. She will stop whatever she's doing and listen to what I have to say. I can be completely honest with her. We are also so much alike in personality . . . Almost too much. Both of us are complete dorks, and I absolutely love it. Especially since we embarrass Lindsey a lot of the time. ;)
My mom has also been my teacher. She's been my spiritual leader and guide since day 1. She never just took me to church every Sunday and Wednesday night when I was younger and left it at that. Even when I was a toddler, she would read books to me that even at that young of an age affected my walk with Christ; she would read little board books about how Jesus loves me. She would sing songs to me that taught me those truths. Later on in my teen years, she would teach me at home, even with the slight ridicule she got from so-called friends. It didn't matter that she knew she would always be a teacher; God has definitely given her that gift, and I am so grateful for it. Even though she was an early childhood education major in college and was a preschool, kindergarten, and 1st grade teacher for the longest time, she knew that you didn't have to have that degree in order to teach your kids. She was quite bold to make that huge step, and looking back at all she's gone through just to teach the two of us at home, I am inspired and respect her SO much. Even though she no longer helps me get through a tear-filled and frustrating algebra assignment or reads to me from the Bible in the morning, she is still my counselor and encourager for problems I have or just when I need someone to talk to.
Basically, what it all comes down to is this: she is my best friend and has been for my whole life. We have a really special bond. We've been through some really great times together, and we've been through some really crappy times. No matter if those times have been good or bad, both kinds have strengthened our friendship and our respect for each other. I could go on and on . . .
The song called "Like My Mother Does" describes my mom and I so well:
People always say
I have a laugh
Like my mother does
Guess that makes sense
She taught me how to smile
When things get rough
I've got her spirit
She's always got my back
When I look at her
I think, I want to be just like that
When I love I give it all I've got
Like my mother does
When I'm scared, I bow my head and pray
Like my mother does
When I feel weak and unpretty
I know I'm beautiful and strong
Because I see myself like my mother does
I never met a stranger
I can talk to anyone
Like my mother does
I let my temper fly
And she can walk away
When she's had enough
She sees everybody
For who they really are
I'm so thankful for her guidance
She helped me get this far
She's a rock
She is grace
She's an angel
She's my heart and soul
She does it all
I have a laugh
Like my mother does
Guess that makes sense
She taught me how to smile
When things get rough
I've got her spirit
She's always got my back
When I look at her
I think, I want to be just like that
When I love I give it all I've got
Like my mother does
When I'm scared, I bow my head and pray
Like my mother does
When I feel weak and unpretty
I know I'm beautiful and strong
Because I see myself like my mother does
I never met a stranger
I can talk to anyone
Like my mother does
I let my temper fly
And she can walk away
When she's had enough
She sees everybody
For who they really are
I'm so thankful for her guidance
She helped me get this far
She's a rock
She is grace
She's an angel
She's my heart and soul
She does it all
I am VERY blessed to have the mother that I do. She works hard all of the time, and rarely gets a true "thank you" for it. I know this isn't much, but . . . Mom, thank you. For EVERYTHING. I would have never gotten through everything that I have without your love and support. You've given me the model for how a wife and mother ought to look and be like, and I can only hope to be half as good of a wife and mom as you've been to Lindsey and I.
Dad snuck in this one! Hehe
Yep, we're dorks. :)
I love you, mom. Happy birthday!
Monday, July 9, 2012
The Little Things + VBS.
There are some things that make me happy. Then, there are those things that make me REALLY happy. Like, so super giddy that I overflow with giggles and can't stop smiling. Some things cause me to be really quiet, to be able to reflect on those things. Some things make me sigh of deep peace and contentment. Most of these things are just little things. Nothing big . . . Yet, those little things are usually what makes me happiest. There's that saying that I always use whenever I come across something like that or try to tell someone about it: "It's the little things!"
Why is it the little things that usually make us the most happy?
Maybe for me, it's because if there were so many huge things, I wouldn't be able to handle it. Since I don't like huge changes (most of the time), they tend to be harder for me to handle. Or maybe it's because in an ordinary day where everything is normal and plain, one of those little things catches you by surprise just enough to make you happy. It's not an overwhelming surprise, but it brings just enough abnormality to make it delightful.
Last night I went to the Sunday evening service at church, and they had dinner served afterwards for everyone. I went with my mom, and we ate some good food. I made small talk to some of the people around me, but not many people seemed to want to talk to me. After a while, a lady who I had only heard about came up to my mom and I and sat down across the table from us. I made a comment towards the conversation because I didn't have anyone else to talk to. The lady looked at me and asked if I was my mom's daughter. I confirmed it. She looked me in the eyes and said something that hasn't left me: "Wow, you have your mom's eyes. It's awesome, there's just something about both of your eyes that shine, and they're so beautiful!" I was kinda shocked. I thanked her, and she moved on to talk with my mom. Here was a woman who I had just met, and she gave me a huge compliment! It wasn't anything big, but it was just enough to throw me off guard and make me smile. I think it was big to me because I tend to see myself only as average, never anything special. I don't get complimented a whole lot for my looks, so I guess that's why it was a big "little thing."
There are so many little things that I love: being able to see progress in my foot's movement, riding in the car down unknown dirt roads, hugs from loved ones, hot showers every day, finding a song that I love to play on the guitar or piano and being able to accompany myself when I sing, a short thunderstorm, sunsets every evening, rainbows, puppy kisses, holding Matt's hand, tickle fights, sitting on the front porch talking, catching fireflies, going to visit my grandparents, getting pictures of my almost 21 month old cousin on my phone, spending time when family come to visit, people watching, baking cookies, Sonic runs, hot tea/coffee, getting dressed up on rare occasions, visiting old friends, spending time with people, and many more things. Some of these things occur more frequently than others; some of these rarely happen. No matter what, though, I love when I experience these things because they make me happy. Maybe the things we call "little" really aren't so little.
[Here's a discussion question: what are some little things YOU love? I'd love to hear about them . . . Maybe some are the same as mine, maybe they're completely different. Leave a comment if you want.] ;)
Just some thoughts for the day . . . Anywho, VBS is this week, and I'm really excited about helping out with it! I'm going to be helping lead music time. We'll see how the weather holds up; either way, it'll all work out. I'm praying that kids will come and that this will have a lasting impact on them so that they would receive Christ as their Savior and learn to follow Him with their whole hearts! I pray that we would also give Him all of the glory with everything we say and do this week. The results are in His hands, and He is sovereign. He knows what will come from this week. :)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)