Misery Made Beautiful

my new life

2006-05-27T16:28:00.001-05:00

I realize I hadn't put up a new post in a while. That's because I've been very busy. I feel like I've somehow walked into an entirely new life recently. Two weeks ago I was still living in my apartment (the one I lived in for 2 years). I have since moved all of my stuff into storage and become the adopted daughter of a host family in Durham that goes to my church there. I have literally become a part of their family as I live in their house, eat meals with them, and even go to grandma's house! I am surrounded constantly by three little girls for whom I already feel overwhelmed with love. I rarely have a minute to myself when I'm at home. I woke up at 5:45 my first morning here to watch cartoons with Skylar, then she woke me up the next morning at 6:45. The next morning I got out of the shower to find Starr in my bed! I have loved every minute of it so far, but am also really tired and feeling a little stressed. I am so excited about the summer, about the new friends that I am making, and about being in Durham so much closer to the church family I am coming to love.

Currently, I am reading a new book that is so amazing. It is called The Heavenly Man by Brother Yun. It is autobiographical and describes his journey to becoming a well known Chinese pastor. I would recommend this book to anyone who wants to learn more about what God has been doing in China in the past 30 years. I want to include a section from the book that I found really convicting. I've put part of it here. I know it might look long, but in reality it's only about two pages of a book. It is something that I've really been thinking about for the past little bit and I thought he put it really well. This is his reponse when western church leaders ask him why there is such a spiritual revival in China and not one in western parts of the world:

"The first thing needed for revival to return to your churches is the Word of the Lord. God's word is missing. Sure, there are many preachers and thousands of tapes and videos of Bible teaching, but so little contains the sharp truth of God's Word. It's the truth that will set you free.
Not only is knowledge of God's Word missing, but obedience to that Word. There's not much action taking place.

When revival came to believers in China, the result was thousands of evangelists being sent out to all corners of the nation, carrying fire from the altar of God with them. When God moves in the West, it seems you want to stop and enjoy his presence and blessings too long, and build an altar to your experience.

You can never really know the Scriptures until you're willing to be changed by them.

All genuine revivals of the Lord result in believers responding with action and soul winning. When God truly moves in your heart you cannot remain silent. There will be a fire in your bones, like Jeremiah, who said, "His word is in my heart like a fire, a fire shut up in my boys. I am weary of holding it in; indeed, I cannot." Jeremiah 20:9.
.....
I've seen people in Western churches worshipping as if they're already in heaven. Then someone invariably brings a comforting message like, "My children, I love you. Don't be afraid, I'm with you." I'm not opposed to such words, but why is it that nobody seems to hear a Word from the Lord like, "My child, I want to send you to the slums of Asia or the darkness of Africa to be my messenger to people dying in their sin"?

Multitudes of church members in the West are satisfied with giving their minimum to God, not their maximum. I've watched men and women during offering time in church. They open their fat wallets and search for the smallest amount they can give. This type of attitude will never do! Jesus gave his whole life for us, and we gives as little of our lives, time and money as we can back to God. What a disgrace! Repent!

....

Of all the strong churches I have visited in the West I've noticed one thing they all have in common: a strong and sacrificial commitment to missions among unreached nations. I'm not talking just about local outreach, or even attempts to start churches in other cities in your nation. I'm talking about a heart to establish God's kingdom in the most gospel-starved and spiritually dark areas of the word, where nbody has ever heard the name Jesus. When you start putting your time, prayers and finances there you will soon experience God's blessing on the work of your hands.

The Great Commission has not changed. There are many churches trying to create a heaven here on earth, but until the Western church obeys the Great Commission and takes the gospel to the ends of the earth, people are just playing with God and are not really serious about the truth. Many churches look beautiful on the outside, but are dead where it counts, on the inside. If you truly want to see God move, the two main things you must do is learn the Word of God and have the obedience to do what God tells you to do. "

-Brother Yun

thinking

2006-04-24T21:10:00.000-05:00

Seasons

From dogwood white to dogwood red,
That's the way the summer's fled.

-Sam Ragan

Spring came so fast this year with dogwoods blooming. The naked trees were suddenly alive with beauty and growth. I almost forgot to notice. I remembered and I'm glad. If I blink for too long the leaves will be falling from the trees. Winter will be here before I know it. The older I get, the faster times goes.

I had a nice, long conversation with my dad tonight. We talked about everything imaginable and I was excited to get to share with him so much of what the Lord is teaching me right now. We talked about how he's getting older, and how different his approach to this new marriage is. He said that when he was young and marrying my mom, they had their entire lives before them, and now, with the approach of the summer, he and Adria are just hoping that they both have some healthy years left to spend together. I think with all my talk about my future (plans for graduation and maybe even going overseas eventually?) my dad began to think through his life so far. He said that now that he is getting older he really wishes he had spent his days more fruitfully for the Lord. I think maybe he was starting to questions whether there really is evidence of Christ in his life, because he's worked as a Dry Cleaner for 25 years and not as a "missionary." I looked at him in disbelief and sat in silence for a few seconds. What I said to him had more meaning than I realized in the moment. I told him that I've never met anyone who has shown such love and compassion to the people who are the most unlovable. I've never met someone who is so giving and never expects anything in return. He has spent his life working and showing God's love to others whether he was doing it consciously or not. Just because he was never a missionary to another country does not mean that he wasn't doing work equally important. He has touched more lives than he realizes. It was then that I began to name all of the individuals and families who he has reached out to over the years. He has been involved in the lives of people who are hard to love, people who are in the worst situations of life, people who are adults and are still not together. And what is so remarkable is that he gives and does because he genuinely loves these people, not because he feels like it's the right thing to do. I realized that my dad is (in some ways) what we all should be. He gives and loves without deciding to. He gives and loves because it is in his nature to give and love, and I think that may very well be a greater testament to Christ in his life than any amount of time spent as a "missionary."

All of this to say two things. 1) Life is short and quickly passing us all by. What are we doing to bare fruit in our own lives. 2) This romantic and exotic idea of "missionary" that a lot of us have does not exist in reality. Missionaries are people who live their lives building relationships in order to bring others to Christ. Missionaries exist right here in Raleigh and Durham just as much as they exist in East Asia and Russia.

New Orleans... pictures?

2006-04-09T22:01:00.000-05:00

I meant to post pictures a while back but have been crazy busy. Tonight I was supposed to be watching Grey's Anatomy during this time (one of only two shows that I watch now) and it was a rerun! So I am doing this instead of my school work.

Also, I still can't figure out how to post more than one picture at a time.. so the formatting is a little bit crazy......

2006-04-09T21:54:00.001-05:00

one of the bedrooms

2006-04-09T21:54:00.000-05:00

trash pile

2006-04-09T21:53:00.003-05:00

me and brandon outside

2006-04-09T21:53:00.002-05:00

a room after we cleaned it out

2006-04-09T21:53:00.001-05:00

boat in the middle of a neighborhood

2006-04-09T21:53:00.000-05:00

truck on a house

2006-04-09T21:51:00.000-05:00

in the warehouse.. tons of cots!

2006-04-09T21:47:00.000-05:00

living room

Light City

2006-03-30T20:23:00.000-05:00

Yet another school assignment that I actually liked writing:

It was a sunny afternoon in the city of New Orleans. The day was going to be hot, but at the moment there was still a cool breeze on the air and a slight hint of humidity. The crowd kept growing, 1200, 1500, 2000, and then finally 2500 people. People were everywhere. The space outside of the warehouse in the Ninth Ward of New Orleans was too small and the people were still squeezing in. Somewhere in the middle of all of the chaos caused by the masses, was a boy, seventeen years old, named Jeremy. This was the moment for him, the coming together of weeks of preparation, the time of judgment; would everything come together, or would it all fall apart?
At seventeen, he had deferred his freshman year of college and gone down to the Gulf Coast to help with Katrina Relief. His team was responsible for preparing housing arrangements for 2500 college students who were coming down to volunteer during their Spring Breaks. As the number of volunteers continued to grow, panic had set in on the staff who simply didn’t have anywhere to put 2500 people.
Above Jeremy’s head, the “Light City” logo was still painted on the side of the warehouse. As he surveyed the crowd, the logo was an amazing reminder of why he was there. The words “light city” were painted in such a way that it looked as though light was coming out of them. They were surrounded by smaller pictures of doves and a cross. New Orleans had been a hopeless place since the coming of Katrina and through the 2500 volunteers staying at Light City, many people would feel hope and love. Light would be sent out into the city from this very warehouse.
The building itself was only a shell of what it once was. The water line was still visible on the outside walls where the flood waters had risen at least five feet. There were holes where doors used to be and the insides of the warehouse were stripped to wooden studs and cinderblock walls. A Subway restaurant that once shared the front side of the warehouse was only recognizable by the sign still hanging above the hole in the wall where the door used to be. There were lines for porta-potties, there was trash already littering the ground, and the air smelled of lingering mildew and must.
There Jeremy stood in the middle of what could be the onset of chaos and failure. He had on thong flip-flops and his feet were so dirty that they were the same color as the ground he was standing over. His hair was shaggy, his face, still too young to grow a full beard, was wispy, and his eyes just looked tired. There was a determination about him that could be easily seen and he somehow looked older than seventeen. He wasn’t physically mature for his age, but he had an air of wisdom about him that only living in post-Katrina New Orleans could do to someone. As most of the people around him were experiencing the warehouse for the first time, Jeremy had been there for months. He had gone from being a child living with his parents, to being an adult, running living quarters for 2500 college students.
Then was the time of judgment and the moment of truth. It was like standing on a fence: on one side was complete death from a 1000 foot fall; on the other side was the most amazing, life-changing miracle. As Jeremy stood watching the hundreds after hundreds of college students pour through the gates, it was obvious that his breath was shallow. He stood, waiting. Would it come together?
Suddenly, he was bombarded with problems. There weren’t enough showers, the food was going to be late, and the porta-potties were out of toilet paper already. His moment of judgment would be delayed as he realized that the battle wasn’t over. There was no such thing as failure when there were 2500 people who needed to eat and shower and use the bathroom. He realized that in a situation like the one he was in, there would be no time for patting himself on the back or for deciding that he had done a good job. The job would only be finished when he was on his way home. Then, maybe he could judge himself and his effort, but for now there was still work to be done.
In his last moment of contemplation, before busy-ness took over the rest of his week, he looked out through the fence into a neighborhood in the heart of the Ninth Ward. It was a ghost town. Houses were exactly as the flood-water of Katrina had left them. There was a sadness that weighed down on the neighborhood that had once been full of life and families. He glanced up once more at the “Light City” sign as he turned to fix what would be the first of many problems to come and he knew that failure was not an option. This camp would be light to a city full of darkness.

KatrinaSpringBreak

2006-03-18T23:40:00.000-05:00

I have spent more hours than I can fathom talking about my KatrinaSpringBreak and yet I am so hesitant to sit down and actually get it down on paper. I don’t know why I find it so easy to talk about and so hard to write. Maybe it’s because the situation was so emotional and real that it makes me sad to think of it confined to the space of a few pages. I don’t really know how to even begin writing about the experience that I had. The Lord moved in more ways than I’ve seen in a long time. I feel like so often I have dry spells where I start to feel like the Lord is no where to be found and then BAM, He moves in like 5 different ways at one time. This week was like that. The few weeks before I left for the trip I had become really complacent in seeking the Lord. I wasn’t spending time in prayer and I was sporadic with my Bible Studying. I felt guilty and bad but I also wasn’t doing anything to change the pattern I was falling into. And then the trip happened and I am just on fire with change right now.
My team gutted one house and it took us two and a half days. The house was in St. Bernard’s Parrish and was under eight to nine feet of water in the aftermath of Katrina. Everything in the house was destroyed and the mold and the smell were close to unbearable. We pulled out a pile of trash that was close to the same size as the house. The Taylor’s who were in their late seventies had lost everything they owned in a matter of days. Going down to New Orleans was shocking because I really had no idea that it was still as bad as it was. It’s interesting the way the media works, always needing a new story. I assumed that things were getting back to normal. It had been six months since the hurricane hit. Things had to be getting better. But for a majority of people down there, that was not true at all. Many of the neighborhoods we saw were ghost towns. The houses were full of ruined garbage (in whatever order the flood water had decided to leave them) and the people were no where to be found. The Taylor’s told us that many of the families on their street had not even been back to see their house since Katrina hit. To be there and see even one house as up close as I did, was almost something too hard to comprehend. Understanding that the Taylor’s house was only one out of hundreds of thousands was impossible to comprehend.
Our living conditions were not at all what I was expecting. When the trip was described as “sort of like camping,” I was picturing cute little tents and a bit little adventure. What we actually experienced was a large warehouse in the ninth-ward that had somewhere around 2,000 people staying in it for the week. The warehouse had been flooded after Katrina and smelled a little of mildew and dirt. It was hard for my eyes to even take in all of the cots filling the huge space. At first it was chaotic. There was trash everywhere and no one seemed to know who was in charge. We had no instruction and just stood around not quite knowing what to do with ourselves. I know now that a seventeen year old kid named Jeremy had put off going to college and had come down to help with the relief effort. He was volunteering through Campus Crusade and he was the one in charge of running the entire warehouse with 2,000 residents. He was completely overwhelmed and had no idea what to do to make conditions better. It was then that we knew our team was going to help him in anyway that we could. We had some people stay back at the warehouse and serve him in any task that he needed done. By the end of the week, the camp was completely transformed. There were signs everywhere with directions for everything. The shower situation was improved. The building had air-conditioning and an electrical system that was working properly. There was adequate separation between the male and female areas. All of the changes really are impossible to even do justice by writing on this page.
I just feel like my idea of what is necessity was totally changed by my experiences in New Orleans this week. I thought that three meals a day, a guaranteed shower, and extreme organization are must haves. I learned this week that although they are nice, they are added benefits, not something that I have to have. I also realized how little all of the “stuff” we have really matters. Possessions are so fleeting. None of it really matters. And we spend so much of our time, energy, and money obsessed with gaining stuff that is not going to last. I learned how easy it is to be consumed by my little bubble. It’s hard for me to be back here in my apartment, knowing that the situation that I left is still going on down there. There are still ghost-town neighborhoods and abandoned businesses. There are still downed power-lines, nonworking traffic lights, and closed schools. There is still total devastation and little hope for many of the people who have lost all physical belongings. And that is hard for me to deal with.
One thing that I can say though is that the city is being changed. Even though things are still so so bad, there has been tons of improvement. People are receiving hope from the thousands of relief volunteers down there and individual lives are being imprinted on forever because there are Christians infiltrating the city. Christ’s name is being heard throughout the city of New Orleans through the people who are there to pour love into broken hearts. In a city that was so far from glorifying God, His name is now being spoken in abundance. To use the words of one of the sheriff’s of New Orleans, “I’m not a religious man, but I can see that if God built this city, he can destroy it and then build it again.” Basically, God is sovereign over everything. His ways are incomprehensible to us a lot of the time, and yet He always brings things together for His glory and so is the case with Katrina.

This is kind of jumbled, but it's late and I'm exhausted. Hopefully I'll be able to post some pictures in the next few days! Your comments are definitely welcome and I would love to tell you more about what all happened during the week!

A Happy Woman

2006-02-28T18:00:00.000-05:00

I wrote this for a writing class and wanted to share it with you guys:

The last time I saw my grandmama was in August of last year. It was the end of summer and still warm in West Jefferson, NC. Ashe County, on the edge of the Blue Ridge Mountains, is known for beautiful leaf changes and harshly cold winters. In August the leaves were still green and there was only a hint of chill on the breeze. While West Jefferson wasn’t home to my grandmama, it was a home away from home. Fifteen years ago she had bought an old rickety mountain house, nestled on the side of a mountain with the most beautiful view off the back deck (although when she first bought it there was no back deck, or indoor plumbing for that matter). The mountains and especially that house meant family to me. They meant weeks in the summer full of country style breakfasts and hiking down by Big Horse Creek with my mom and dad, brother and sister, and of course my grandmama.
She was often described as “the youngest seventy-something woman I know.” She did the twist or tried to show us how she could be like a pretzel and get her legs behind her head. She took my sister, my brother, my cousin, and me swimming at the YWCA and even let us do water aerobics with her class. If she had a guest at her house, even if it was just me, she couldn’t sit still before pulling out every of ounce food in her kitchen, and she wouldn’t be satisfied until I had given in and eaten something. We did workout videos with her in her living room and watched Young and the Restless in the afternoons.
However, the last time I saw her wasn’t in the house she loved so much. My aunt had built a house just outside of West Jefferson and my grandmama was visiting. That’s what we called it anyway. As I made the slow winding drive up the road toward my aunt’s house, I was scared. I didn’t know what to expect but I knew I had to go anyway. I knew it would probably be the last time I saw her and I didn’t know how to deal with it. I returned to the mountains, and ached for those childhood days when my mom was still alive, and we were all together in grandmama’s mountain house. A week after my trip up the mountain, I was back in Raleigh when my dad called to let me know that she was gone.
I was going through old photo-albums a few days ago with one of my Aunts when I ran across an old picture of me and my grandmama from when I was about seven years old. Her hair was a little frizzy and streaked with gray. It was short and curled, sort of in the style of a typical older woman, but she didn’t look old, not to me anyway. Her lipstick was a pinkish red and she had on a shirt that was bright and covered in flowers. She had the kindest eyes I’d ever seen. Her belly was a little bigger in the middle and she looked slightly aged, but anyone could see that she had always been a beautiful woman. My aunt laughed and tears welled up in her eyes. She said, “She was a happy woman. A really happy woman. She chose to be a happy woman.”
She had outlived two husbands, a daughter, a son-in-law, and ultimately lost her battle with breast cancer. The last day that I saw her, she was laying in a hospital bed on loan from hospice. She was drifting in and out of sleep. Her hair was gone and so was her ability to move on her own. The tumors in her brain were causing so much pressure she could barely open her eyes, yet, she laughed. She laughed until she cried. She made her usual “My goodness” and “Oh my” responses to my brother’s ridiculous jokes. She sighed heavily sometimes and smiled with her eyes closed, so content to hear her family’s voices around her. I had never known someone to have such a peace about oncoming death, to choose to be happy even in the worst of circumstances, to find the good in every bad situation. When I left her room that day, I stood by her bed for a little while and she knew instinctively that I was there. She asked me to hug her and she just smiled. I knew then that she was sad that she was leaving us, but so excited about the possibility of being with her husband and my mama in heaven. If I could have taken a snap-shot of that moment when she was surrounded by family I don’t think I could have found a better example of love. She was a happy woman.

2006-02-27T20:55:00.000-05:00

Me and Sarah

Bowling and Walking

2006-02-27T20:52:00.001-05:00

So, the past few days my exercise has consisted of Bowling and Fitness Walking.
First of all, I'd like to let you know that I bowled my best score ever this weekend... a whopping 111! It was only the second time in Gray Robbins History that a hundred has been broken and was a vast improvement on the score of my first game (64?). I would also like to say that this is the first time I've bowled since shoulder surgery and I'm thinking the doctor somehow put me back together in a way that has improved my bowling ability.. haha!

Now, onto fitness walking.
You maybe be asking, what is this fitness walking? It is otherwise known as "Race Walking" and may very well be the hardest "sport" I've undertaken... Imagine 40 or so college aged people speed-walking around a track. The most humorous of course are the big guys who (following the natural form of race walking) swish their hips back and forth and swing their arms like the little ladies you see walking in your neighborhood. This is not for the faint of heart.

As much as I'm joking, it actually is harder than it maybe appear to be at first glance.
I would just like to say that I broke my original record today by about a minute and twenty seconds... woohoo!

okay, if you would like to know more about this please contact me.. it really might just change your life! :)

And enjoy the bowling pictures from below... I wanted to put up a really cute video of me; however, I can't figure out how to post videos?? Any help is appreciated...

2006-02-27T20:52:00.000-05:00

Sarah and Josh

2006-02-27T20:47:00.000-05:00

Bowling Pictures

Heart-Broken

2006-02-13T20:25:00.000-05:00

"And you said, 'I know that this will hurt, but if I don't break your heart things will just get worse...'" Relient K

Those words are absolute truth. My heart was broken over and over in this long refining process. There have been so many times when I doubted my ability to go on. The Spirit has moved so much in me in the past two years. Everything is so much clearer to me than I ever thought possible.

Tonight I weep for who I used to be, for how far I have been brought from my lowest points to now. I weep for the time I wasted and for how far I've left to go. The difference: they are no longer tears of hopelessness. They are tears of understanding and joy and release from the past. They are tears for the people who are breaking my heart right now. The people who are who I was, who desperately need hope and purpose and love that only Christ can provide. They are tears of excitement and wonder as I can finally see the Spirit moving me toward refinement. They are tears of thankfulness as I see my needs being met more everyday, as I see biblical promises coming true in reality.

BLANK PAGES

2006-02-06T13:31:00.000-05:00

i know. I KNOW. You are extremely disappointed in me. There I was saying "I'm really going to try this time," and yet here I am, after a week of silence- still with nothing worthwhile to say. This week has been busier than ever for me, partly because of school, but mostly because of procrastination. These are the times when I have to stop myself from saying, "God, where are you?" or "Please say something to me." I've realized that God is always wanting to speak to me, and times like this are not an exception. The problem isn't in God. God didn't stop speaking to me this week. The problem is in me. I stopped listening. Sometimes I get carried away with checking things off on my to-do list and I completely let slip the things that really matter. The quiet moments and reflective times. This week I read my Bible daily, and spent some time in prayer but I didn't take time to actually process what I was taking in.

Louie Giglio says that we all have individual and personal passions and that we should pursue these passions whole-heartedly so long as the passion is serving an ultimate purpose in Christ and His story. Louie says that the problems begin when we allow our Passion to become our purpose- when we allow our passion to serve a purpose that is centered around our own glorification in our own story. This week I allowed my passion to become my purpose.

I'm really going to try...

2006-01-29T17:27:00.000-05:00

So, I've been pretty much terrible at updating this thing. I just get busy and sometimes don't feel like I have anything to say. But, if you know me at all, you know that I actually almost always have something to say (ha!) I don't really know what I'm thinking right now, but I think I'd like to change this whole thing around a little bit. Most of my entries have been vague and descriptive, some of them even close to beautiful writing, but they don't really mean much to anyone but me. My bible study leader has been doing something really amazing with her blog . She puts down thoughts on her Bible Study for the day and just random stuff too. It has been really cool for me to be able to see what the Lord is teaching her on a daily basis and I definitely think you should check it out! I like it a lot and am considering that as part of the future of this blog.

Today (and yesterday) God has really been hitting me hard with a message on pride. A recent post on a friend's blog definitely showed me just how deeply engrained my pride is. The way that I am thought of and remembered by other people (and how that affects me personally) is a huge sign of pride. I was almost knocked out of my seat when I read something that I assumed was about me, and realized that someone looked back on memories of me in a negative light. I was dumbfounded, not only because I didn't see the situation in the same way, but also because this person knew me after God finally knocked me over the head and said, "Enough. Start living for me!" This person knew me as I was being transformed and yet I still wasn't good enough. If that isn't a hit to pride I don't know what is. It's been hard for me to even post on here, knowing that people who knew me two or more years ago may read what I say and scream out hypocrite. I am a very different person that I was two+ years ago and yet I still look back on my past with shame and fear of judgement of people who don't really know me anymore.

So, about this pride thing. Basically, pride is a huge obstacle between me and the glory that I was designed to bring to God. Beth Moore says, "Believers sometimes stop short of a God-glorifying life because they want to share in God's glory." Then Isaiah 42:8 tells us that God will not share his glory with anyone, even his chosen ones. Beth Moore also lists out the ways in which pride is an inhibitor in achieving total freedom in Christ:

God wants to get to our hearts. Pride covers our hearts.
God wants to free us from any hindrances in our past. Pride refuses to take a fresh look back.
God wants to treat us with the prescription of His Word. Pride doesn't like to be told what to do.
God wants to set us completely free. Pride thinks he's free enough.
God wants to bring us out of dark closets. Pride says secrets are nobody's business.
God wants to help us with constraining problems. Pride denies there is a problem.
God wants to make us strong in Him. Pride won't admit to weakness.

The part about the past is really significant for me. How arrogant is it to look at my past as something so terrible that God can't even purify it? Sure, I say I believe that God can do anything, but the way that I live, with such shame and insecurity about my past, shows that I believe it is too much for God. God is almighty. Nothing is too hard for him. That I would live as though I think the creator of not only my being but also the entire universe can't clean my past is the ultimate pride.

Then, at church this morning JD preached on pride. He said that pride is always in conflict with someone else and that proud people always hate each other. He also said that if you often find yourself being annoyed with the pride of other people, it means that you have a pride problem yourself... ha! That is absolutely true, if I'm being honest.

So, now the point is this. I'm praying that God will change me in big ways. That He will show me how pure He's made me (even my past) and that He will deal with all of this pride in me. And I'm looking forward to the future, because God has promised to finish the work He's started in me.

I am alive

2006-01-26T11:19:00.000-05:00

Has it really been over two months since my last post? Wow, I'm either way lazy or way busy! I think I'm somewhere inbetween. So, the past two months have been such a whirlwind of crazy adventure, interesting moments, and a lot of big movement in my spiritual life.
Life has been an absolute roller-coaster recently, but I'm learning to see it as expected rather than as failure. I don't even know if that really makes sense. In terms of my walk, I've been at some really high and some really low places, but ultimately it's brought me to the place I am right now and so it all must have been for good. I'm tired of beating myself up over my past and allowing guilt to get in the way of moving forward. God is faithful and I'm learning this more and more daily.
I know, I need to at least do some sort of update on my trip to France, my trip to Nashville, getting back into the swing of things at school. Also, we had Camp Willow Run summer staff reunion last weekend. I don't even know where to begin, so for now I'll just say it has all been life-changing. Haha.. that is pretty much as vague and typical as I could possibly get. But, I'm just going to leave you hanging for now!

The end is coming...

2005-11-15T13:38:00.000-05:00

The end is coming...
of the semester that is! I just realized that after this week, I only have one week of class left. I also, realized that I don't have any more papers due or exams to take until exam week. Basically, this means that I have approximately three weeks of laziness ahead of me. This semester has been anticlimactic. I probably shouldn't be surprised considering I've only taken 12 hours of class. Over the past few days, as I've had no pressing deadlines to worry about, I've felt really worthless. I'm starting to see that I need work and purpose and order in order to not go crazy. I'm starting to rethink this whole "I want to be a stay at home mom" thing. Maybe I don't want that at all. I really don't even know anymore.

Anyway, I've started studying the Book of Colossians and I've picked back up my attempt at memorizing the first Chapter of Ephesians. It's amazing how I pick up on something new everytime I read something again.. and again.. and again. Life is good and God is good in his faithfulness to me.

And that's about it for the moment.

I also found this ridiculously cute picture recently of me and my sister when I was little. I bet you can guess which one is me??

A normal blog entry... what?!

2005-11-10T15:23:00.000-05:00

So my trip to France is finally starting to come together. For those of you who don't know, my friend Winnie is studying abroad for a year and I'm going to visit over Christmas break. We now have some definite plans for where we're staying etc. As of right now, I'm staying in Winnie's dorm with her for the first 5 days in a town called Angers. Then, we're heading into paris for the last 3 days of my trip and are staying in a budget hotel which is going to be much better than the hostel I stayed in the last time I was in Paris. I'm getting really REALLY excited about this trip and things are becoming more definite, but I'm also pretty nervous about it. You would think that I wouldn't be, considering that I've traveled all over Europe before, but things are a little different this time. First, the rioting in Paris and throughout France needs to stop. Second, I'm travelling all by myself from Raleigh to Angers. The only part I'm really anxious about is the last leg of the journey (from Paris to Angers). The rest will be super easy because everything will be in English and then I'll join up with Winnie and Michael and possibly Andy as soon as I make it to Angers. I'm really looking forward to giving Paris a second try. Last time, I was so stressed out and tired that I really hated it.. a lot! But I think this trip is going to be super relaxing, plus I'll get to spend time with fun people. I'm starting to get all my travel gear together too and right now I'm thinking that I'll pack everything in my huge backpack (that i used when i backpacked through europe) because it will be easier to deal with (even though I'm not completely sure my shoulder is ready for a 50 pound pack...) Another slight problem.. I have a plane ticket but I don't really have money saved up to spend while I'm there. I'm thinking savings is just going to have to go a little lower.. :)

"shadowboxer"

2005-11-06T20:24:00.000-05:00

I'm momentarily obsesed with this song:

Once my lover, now my friend.
What a cruel thing to pretend.
What a cunning way to condescend.
Once my lover, now my friend.
Oh, you creep up like the clouds.
And you set my soul at ease.
Then you let your love abound.
And you bring me to my knees.
Oh, it's evil,babe,the way you let your grace enrapture me.
When, well, you know, I'd be insane
-to ever let that dirty game recapture me.
You made me a shadowboxer, baby.
I wanna be ready for what you do.
I been swinging all around me.
'Cause I don't know when you're gonna make your move.
Oh, your gaze is dangerous.
And you fill your space so sweet.
If I let you get too close,
You'll set your spell on me.
So, darlin', I just wanna say.
Just in case I don't come through.
I was on to every play.
I just wanted you.
oh- oh, it's so evil, my love,
the way you've no reverence to my concern.
So, I'll be sure to stay wary of you, love,
to save the pain of once my flame and twice my burn.
So, I'm a shadowboxer, baby.
I wanna be ready for what you do.
I been swinging all around at nothin
I don't know when you're gonna make your move.
yeah, I'm a shadowboxer, baby.
I wanna be ready for what you do.
I been swinging around me.
'Cause I don't know when you'll make your move.
-fiona apple

yeah

2005-11-06T20:15:00.000-05:00

After months and months of silence, the flood-gates opened and somehow I confused the past with the present.

And now
I'm alone

nothing to do and so glad

2005-10-28T11:37:00.000-05:00

This semester has been full
of a lot of friday afternoons
in which I was packing up
and going out of town
But
Today
I get to be lazy!

it's been a while

2005-10-28T04:55:00.000-05:00

So, I haven't updated in a really long time. I found this tonight and I just thought it was really beautiful for some reason. Thought I'd give the blog another shot:

"And they all look at me. They stare trying to understand where my emotion is -- through my silence. What they don't understand is that the emotion in me died years ago -- That my blank face is not a mask. They either convince themselves that it is what it is not or try and see pain where it isn't. They look at me and their eyes give away their expectations in me. Feel something -- Say something -- She's your mother. I think it would make her more sad to see the extent of this numbness. I want to feel something, but I just can't. And they all look at me -- expecting me to react but they don't understand -- They don't see -- They don't know -- I'm the only one being real: Their banter and attempts at communication is what is the real mask. But maybe that's what is expected. Why is a blank face and a silent voice such a terrible thing? It's me being real. I want to feel -- oh do I want to feel. I hold it together until that glue turns permanent. I think she would want me to cry and let it go. Finally. I feel something. Finally the tears pour. My biggest fear is that I will feel unaffected. My second biggest fear is that the tears won't stop. But they do. They stop. Is there still something wrong with my emotional reaction? I mean -- what do you say -- 72 hours to live -- tops. How do you handle it? I dread the "I am so sorry" comments, because it always leaves me not knowing what to say. Why am I so afraid to show that I'm hurting inside? I don't want them to know that maybe it really is a mask afterall. Why can't I cry in front of the people who understand the best? Why the need to stay so strong? Sometimes -- it just feels good to let go. The tears felt good -- like I wasn't so messed up afterall. She just looked so small in her tent. I'm ashamed because I'm scared of her. I just want her to be okay -- to not be so completely terrifying to me. I've spent so many years hating her for being sick -- and hating myself for things I said to her -- for making it harder instead of easier for her -- for adding to her pain and complete sadness -- for making her feel stupid when she was really just sick -- for just wishing she was dead -- for not loving her enough if at all -- for not even knowing how to love -- for forgetting her to deal with the sadness of it all. Seven and a half years later and the end is closer but I don't even know what that means. I hate myself because I pushed it away so that it didn't feel like my life anymore -- and somehow I cheated her through all of it. They look at me like I feel nothing -- wondering what is wrong with me -- and inside I think the same thing -- and then the tears start to fall andn they don't stop -- but they will stop-- sometime I know -- to feel pain is such an incredible thing -- to feel at all."

Sick sick sick computer

2005-03-30T20:05:00.000-05:00

My computer has a virus.
It is very sick and needs immediate medical attention.
It is my fault.

Somehow I helped my computer get a virus a few weeks ago. Then I thought I had fixed it and everything was doing just fine. A few days ago my virus protection informed me that it had found some crazy virus in some files and that I needed to run virus scan in safe mode. I did this and from there it has been downhill. My computer started doing crazy things. Then I tried to get rid of the virus in safe mode again last night.

Now my computer refuses to leave safe mode and return to the much more productive "normal mode."

It makes me sad. I need my computer for schoolwork. My computer has important school related files on it. I need it to get better.

Until it is well, I will be forced to use the computer lab on campus...

Hired!

2005-03-25T18:46:00.000-05:00

I finally heard back from Camp Willow Run on Wednesday! I've been hired as the office assistant for the summer. I had applied for both office assistant and a counselor position and was continually switching back and forth between the two, trying to decide which I would enjoy more. After I had my interview last weekend, I really felt like the office job was perfect for me. I'm so excited about the opportunity I have to spend my entire summer serving God and others and am looking forward to being surrounded by awesome people! I will be living on Lake Gaston for the entire summer, starting the last week of May through the first week of August. It's amazing to think of all the changes that have taken place. If you knew me two years ago, or even one year ago you know that working at CWR is the last thing I would have wanted. I can't help but thank God everytime I think about where I am today, how far He has brought me, and how wonderful my life has become. Really, I guess it all comes down to obedience and a willingness to step out in faith, especially when everything seems impossible. The most incredible thing is that it's only just beginning! Thanks to everyone who has been here for me, praying for me and staying by my side as God is making all of these changes.

Predestined

2005-03-23T03:40:00.000-05:00

Sometimes days pass by as hours and weeks pass by as days.
Sometimes I dread the end of another day without productivity.
Sometimes the feeling that I'm getting no where is overwhelming.
Sometimes my mind tries to tell me I will never be who I hope.

The word "predestined" has become something so beautiful to me.

During those times when I just feel like my life and efforts are a total failure I like to meditate on that word. Regardless of what my day was like and regardless of how hopeless it seems, I am learning to find absolute strength on the fact that I am "predestined to be conformed to the likeness of His son." I won't falter or give up. I won't question why I was chosen. I won't let anymore stagnant moments break my confidence in His promise. Predestined.

I don't really have time for this, but...

2005-01-18T19:57:00.000-05:00

My second semester at STATE is up and running, and I'm already going a little crazy. Other than that, things are going better than ever for me. To recap a part of a conversation I just had with a new friend of mine:

Me: i'm so incredibly stressed right now... i have about a million projects this semester.. and trying to get this application in.. and all my regular work.. it's no good
Him: eh...but God IS good

That just about sums up my attitude at the moment. No matter how stressed out I am, and no matter how "no good" things seem to be, I am resting in the fact that God IS good.

Also, I'm working on my application for Camp Willow Run right now. I went to Passion '05 in Nashville over Christmas break and a TON of awesome people from camp were also staying with my sister and her husband. Laura and Dave have been saying forever that I need to apply and I kept pushing it off and pushing it off. Well, hopefully the application will be in the mail by Friday! I know it will mean a summer of almost no sleep and hard work, but it will also mean a summer of spreading God's love to tons of kids and growing closer to Him in the process. I am so overwhelmed by how far God has brought me over the past year, by how much change has taken place in my life. God is amazing.

2004-12-30T01:42:00.000-05:00

I'm all grown up!

Well, not completely. I saw today, how finally, I've learned to walk away...

confrontation~ I hate it

Especially when I'm innocent.

I think I understand that some people just won't ever change.

At one point I could list the reasons why we didn't need to be friends

and over and over time takes its course and I forget.

I start thinking, "Maybe he'll be different now..."

I don't need to learn my lesson the hard way this time~

Just because time sometimes blurs my list of reasons, it's still there.

He isn't ever going to change, but the beauty of it is that I finally have.

"Now I remember why we stopped being friends..."

December 28th

2004-12-28T23:56:00.000-05:00

And we carry the weight and die for a cause It's misery made beautiful right before our eyes

Sometimes

boys are so silly

but I think I am more silly

For being so affected

Sometimes

melts to yesterdays

2004-12-27T13:16:00.000-05:00

The years flash by, today melts to yesterdays memories,
Time's holding us tight
I'm looking back to remember the days
we said we'd never say goodbye.

And now you're gone,
my hands melt to yesterday's melodies
time's pushing along,
still looking back to hold on
to the days we said we'd never say goodbye.

Sometimes I feel like we've been running too far from the truth
You know I'm tired of hearing 'another day another time'
all this senseless waiting won't fill these dark empty rooms,
why won't you come home?

I wish, I feel, I can't believe I've seen these nightspass by,
those hands, what happened to those eyes, my
eyes seduced by that smile that crumbles away, washes
away those tears, let tears roll by, she'll hear you
cry, yeah she'll hear you.

sometimes I feel...
you know I hate to say it,
but since you've gone I know that

even though I'm feeling low,
I guess I'm feeling free.
We can live our own existence
'cause I know these
dreams will bring you back to me.

I'm dreaming a world with you,
I wish the night was longer
I'm chasing the way we were,
I wish that I could catch us.
I'm feeling your hand in mine, I wish I'd held it closer
I know that I will soon find,
I know that she can hear me say

She'll hear you, these dreams will bring you back to me.

-Ben Jelen

Mr. Fred Mclean is the most ridiculous, annoying, stupid man I know..

2004-12-17T00:10:00.000-05:00

So I had an anxiety attack at work tonight. It was the craziest, worst day I've ever had at that place (and I've had tons of bad days there). Anything that could have gone wrong did. I had to hang up on a woman who just wouldn't stop yelling at me on the phone. People are absolutely insane. I mean, these people are adults, talking about something as insignificant as clothes and they act like I've killed one of their children or something. Do you know how quickly it gets old when you have to tell 10 people in a row that their clothes aren't ready (even though they were supposed to be). So about a million people freaked out on me but the last one takes the cake. ONE shirt out of TWELVE was not ready and he started pitching a fit because it was his "new shirt" that he "wanted to wear to work tomorrow". Okay, so he starts ranting and raving at me and at this point there is nothing I can do. I can't make the shirt magically appear... I'm not a miracle worker. Finally, I break down into hysterical tears and the man, seeing me crying, CONTINUES to yell at me about his stupid shirt. People are absolutely ridiculous. Finally, D arrives with the last bunch of clothes and the man says, "Oh, I see my shirt, I see my shirt" and I proceed to take his shirt, fling it at him, and say "I am SO glad, sir, that your STUPID shirt is here." Then I called my manager and put in my two-week notice.

There are no words..

2004-12-16T00:40:00.000-05:00

A- !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Random sidenote of complete happiness:

I would like to take back that part in my first entry where I said my English professor was ruining my life. He is the greatest man on the face of the planet and I am sorry for every bad thing I have ever said about him! :)

thankful for...

2004-12-14T21:31:00.000-05:00

I moved out of my apartment for a few weeks. I've moved back into my dad's house for christmas/newyear's break. I guess I shouldn't say moved "back" because this is really the first time I've ever lived here except for those five days at the end of the summer. I'm really glad I decided to stay here over break instead of in the apartment on my own. That would be probably killed me. It's good to be around my brother and my dad and will be even better when Laura is back in town. I've been feeling a lot sadder this year than I think I've ever felt around Christmas time. Normally Christmas makes me super happy and excited and all of that. Maybe it's just what comes with getting older or maybe I'm just growing more and more cynical as I get older- I just feel really sad most of the time. Maybe it's being single and feeling more isolated than ever. Maybe it's a combination of all of that, plus being burned out from this semester and from all the personal emotional stress I've also been going through. Maybe it also has to do with the fact that it's not only the second Christmas since we moved out of the house I grew up in, but that I've never lived in this house so it feels even less like "christmas at home." Things with my mom are also very on the edge at this point. There's no telling- she could rebound like she has in the past and live longer- but at this point they're saying no more than a few weeks. I haven't been to see her. I guess this is also a sad Christmas because it's the first one that my mom won't be present for- even though she is still living. It's hard. I don't want to associate this time of year with sadness. I also made the mistake of looking at my exboyfriend's blog tonight. I check it every once in a while for updates and he had a new posting. I don't know why I'm still having so much trouble letting go of all of that. It's been almost 5 months and I'm still hurting. I guess it's harder to let go when you break up, still being in love.

Okay, enough complaining. Sarah and I decided that we have both become terrible complainers and that our lives are way too negatively focused- so our new year's resolution will be to fix that. Although, like Sarah says, "It isn't the New Year yet!" HaHaHa! I have so much to be thankful for. Every negative thing mentioned above could be reworded to show the positive side. I'm not going to put you through that though... About being single and hating it- I've seen so many people who aren't "single" like me, but who probably would be better off if they were. I guess I should just find peace in knowing that I'm where I'm supposed to be right now, and that I'm not settling for something less than fantastic just to avoid the way I'm feeling right now. I know my day will come.. just gotta keep concentrating on the positive today.

rambles and beauty

2004-11-22T23:14:00.000-05:00

After 2 and a half months of blank pages I opened my journal tonight...

I don't even want to read what I last wrote-
Fear of optimism- Fear of hope- or lack of.
Just fear.
I was meant to write, I think, in a British accent.
Does that even make sense?
No.
Too much Virginia Woolf and British film, maybe?
I've come to find that it's empty;
life without love is very empty. Here-
I find myself in a city (small as it may be)
full of people and no one for me.
Empty for me.
This laughter- that look-
is all too much for me to bare when I return to my ironically bright room.
I've realized that I am obsessed with ineligable men.
Maybe it's their ability to commit that I am so drawn to.
I've never really felt this before- this complete unsatisfaction as the day ends- on a daily basis-
this lack of hope in any end to it: endlessness.
The strangeness of it all was that, for once, I finally found someone I could commit to and he could not keep his for me.
I'm really not so much broken as empty- distrusting, terrible.
What I would love- really love-
to stay up all night smoking cigarettes (even though I hate and love smoking cigarettes)
and writing poetry to fill this emptiness and release the energy-
the emotion-
to have something to show for the pain.
To create and be known for it- for my likes, obsessions insanities.
To love through it, to cry through it-
to escape through it.
To create.
To be unaffected, somehow less trivial, but to love.
What I really desire is to make sense of it all:
why I am me,
why I can't write or love or even escape properly:
why I am trivial and he or she or they are not.
To create and to know why.
Or maybe distraction- distraction from the endlessness.
The best thing I can imagine:
To be looked at and known for exactly what I am, yet still found beautiful, without the need for changes.
To create.
To be known.
To love.

And we carry the weight...

2004-11-17T16:55:00.000-05:00

And we carry the weight ...

We carry the weight of everyone we come in contact with. I think my back is going to break. There is so much sadness and so much rage around me that I, sometimes, get caught up in it all and start to float. There are moments of clarity, where the sticky strings that tie me to everyone else disappear, where I realize how much it doesn't HAVE to affect me: the afflictions of everyone else. Then- there are moments where I'm literally swimming in my thoughts, when everything has a consequence and I am connected to everything and everyone that I touch. My thoughts. Nothing- NOTHING passes without touching me. My thoughts.

candles aren't helping

2004-11-17T00:42:00.000-05:00

It's misery
made beautiful
right before our eyes ....

The story of my life

Imagine having no arms and no legs

That would be my family

No control

H . E . L . P . L . E . S . S .

recognition

2004-11-16T08:34:00.000-05:00

It's moments like this one- that I hate. When you realize that everyone else has moved on from a situation you just can't quite let go of. Wronged- that was me a long time ago. NOT anymore. There's a section in a Virginia Woolf novel, Mrs. Dalloway, that talks about how we make up interactions with people and that is what life really is: these fake little miserable attempts at being REAL.

And it was smashed
to atoms- his fun, for it was half made up, as he knew very well; invented, this
escapade with the girl; made up, as one makes up the better part of life, he
thought- making oneself up; making her up; creating an exquisite amusement, and
something more. But odd it was, and quite true;
all this one could never share- it smashed to atoms.

That sums it up- It's like Virginia Woolf sees inside my head- exactly how I feel...

inevitability

2004-11-15T23:32:00.000-05:00

So- the inevitable first entry- explanation: Typical- I swore I'd never get one of these. Then- the English professor who has made it his soul mission to RUIN MY LIFE- basically my arch nemesis- talked about the ridiculousness of blogs SO- of course I made one- and here I am. I love my title. I love finding new gorgeous phrases on old cd's I've listened to about -1000- times. Also- the pink- i know, I KNOW! I've got to get off this pink kick- It's out of control-

Now- this is the end and the beginning.