I ain't a Pop Tart

I’m a fan of standup. I love laughing more than a lot of things… things like Monsters, the beach, and snowboarding.

One of my all time favorite acts is done by Brian Regan, who seems to grow funnier with repetition.

Its an old school shpeel as he pretends to open a poptart and read the instructions for cooking given on the box (First off, who really “cooks” a poptart? And secondly, who needs instructions to do so? Alas, they are actually there, and are RIDICULOUS… the instructions they have to put on things absolutely baffles me).

Within the act, he says something that makes me giggle every time I think of it… but now makes me step back a little and say, “… hmmm.”

The line goes something like this: “And here are the microwave instructions. 1. Remove pastry from pouch. 2. Microwave on high for 3 seconds. If you have to zapfry your poptart,  you might want to loosen up your schedule.”

As the whole world knows, this upcoming week is finals week (why I’m here hanging out with you is beyond me… I really should be studying for the test that provoked this rampant writing.)

My very first test is in New Testament… a class that has brought me to a mirror to look at the dirty, ugly image that is my soul, and then showed me a God that is behind me with a washcloth, ready to clean me up and make me lovely.

As I dug through notes tonight, writing everything down on 3x5 cards, I came across a point Dr. Williams made that makes total sense to me and causes me to have faith in progressive transformation.

God has principals for growth.

Growth, within the Bible, is compared to farming.

You work the ground.

You plant a seed.

You water it gently.

You pluck the weeds around it.

You care for the little teeny tiny bit of green that shoots up from the ground weeks after you planted that seed.

You water.

You pluck.

You watch.

You water.

You pluck.

Until finally, it grows big enough to produce fruit.

Then you prune your pretty little plant, so that next time, it’ll bear more fruit….

Better fruit.

I think a lot of times, we believe that when we ask for forgiveness, God is going to give us a dose of steroids to bulk us up to be the way we need to be.

But He doesn’t do that… because that’s cheating.

Its robotic… and it goes against the beauty of free will.

Growth isn’t something that’s going to happen overnight… and the Divine doesn’t expect that.

I believe He expects you to move in the direction of bearing fruit… to make the effort in wanting to change.

A seed doesn’t grow itself… it would die if it didn’t have the proper care.

Growth doesn’t happen in zapfry instant…. And thank goodness for that, because I would be seriously concerned with myself.

Within the past year, I’ve had the privilege of seeing God in a new way.

66 books, cover to cover, of things that He’s said and given to us, as a way to show us that He wants to be involved in our lives.

That being said, I’ve gotten to see a God that looks at me with all of my blemishes and disgusting dirt stains, and instead of brushing me off as the hopeless case that I am, He grabs me and pulls me close to Him with no intent of letting go.

I’ve always known that He does this… but through awful mistakes, horrid heartache and brokenness, it sometimes is a vague memory that flits through my mind and seems unbelievable.

Some of those who read this will scoff at my “horrible mistakes” remark.

That kills me.

I’ll never understand why there is a pride issue over whose sin is worse.

Yeah, I’m the “good girl”… but what’s up with the label that is only there to make those who use it look more ba and me want to prove that it isn’t true?

You believe a lie from the depths of hell and cause me to stumble.

Why do you want to be considered worse than me, the “good girl?”

Alright, back to the main point, and onto the wrap up.

We grow slowly.

A kid (with the exception of my siblings) doesn’t go from being 3’2 to 5’10 overnight.

Growth isn’t a toaster pastry… and I’m not a pop tart.

So Mad He Could Spit

Dear reader,

Tonight, I've had the blinders removed for a split second.
I don't claim to know more than anyone else... I am only 19, and know better than to submit that I know everything.
But I do know a few things... and those few grains of knowledge are enough to make me infuriated with my peers... particularly a good majority of those that I know well.

Hypocrisy sincerely bothers me.
And I see it entirely too much in those that are in my age bracket.

You tell me you're a Christian?
I'm to the point where I want to look a good few of some of those who I have grown up with in the eye and say "Prove it to me via action rather than just saying that you are."

I see no lasting passion... I see a temporary spiritual high that is fueled by a moving worship service and a great message.

The biggest question I have that I want to scream more often than not is what is the point?
WHAT IN THE WORLD IS THE POINT OF LIVING?

I just cannot believe its to succeed in the world.
The world is supposed to hate me... not to praise me for my advances within it's self.

What are you doing to prove that you are worth being hated?

When I focus on me... the insignificant problems become overwhelming.
The tears over mistakes come far too often...
I feel trapped and chained.

When I lift my eyes up to meet God, my Father, the hurts and the pains and the chains dissolve and are so worth every ounce of discomfort they possess.
I don't live for anything other than what God wants of me.
My main goal is what can I do for Him? What can I do to show the world that He's worth everything I've got to give and more?


I'm really sick and tired of seeing my generation so focussed on themselves.
I'm tired of seeing my own friends professing great abundance in faith... yet not seeing the fruit of that faith.
Where's the joy? Where's the love? Where's the self-control?

I KNOW I don't have it dialed in...
but when you can look yourself in the eye... when you can talk to a friend and be real, like really really real... when you can pray without the twinge of guilt looming in the corner...
that is when you can begin to know that you've got the ability to confront those who aren't doing it right.
When God whispers His Word into your soul right at the right time... its then you know that you've got the ability to smack people upside the head with it.

"So, because you are lukewarm—neither hot nor cold—I am about to spit you out of my mouth."- Rev. 3:16


All I've got to say is come on friends... get it together.
Grow up into the men and women you are called to be... and actually do something to BECOME that person.
I'm tired of hearing "I'm on fire for God" and not seeing the smoke or feeling the heat.

Need to sleep hard?

Most recent, yet oldest observation found within my mind: When you work hard, you sleep hard.

Its a "duh" no brainer kind of conclusion... but boy oh boy does it take on a whole entire new meaning when you experience it every time you shut your eyes to the final hours of the day and awake completely refreshed.
I love sleep.
I'm so glad God created it.

8 hours of shear incoherent bliss... my hat comes off to that idea.

Goodnight sweet world, my dreams will be pleasant and lovely.

A peaceful gleam

The night paused to listen to the nothing that floats through its warm fall night air.
It yawns and stretches and then goes back to listening, waiting to hear if any excitement bursts forth on this Thanksgiving eve.

I yawn even bigger as I unwind from a busy week that has yet to slow down.
As I snuggle down into the warmth of my layers of blankets, two thoughts sit on the crest of my mind: one of utter amazement, and another of simple rest.

I am finding that tonight is a night that I can truthfully sing "Savior I come, quiet my soul, remember..." and nestle down for 15 hours of utter calm.
Rest is important for us as people... and I whole heartedly believe that to be so because of the fact that our God took a day to breathe.
More often than not, we take maybe an hour to just sit and rest, and then we're right back to work... whether that be actual work, school assignments, or sometimes even being with others.
Tonight, I am able to embrace the still and the quiet for all that it offers me... and I plan to.
I think that it will help provoke growth in the area of peace that every Christian life should cultivate... a peace that passes all understanding.

I live in complete awe with God's evident mighty hand working in my life.
I remember vividly (and also have written record of doing so) the very first time I really prayed that God would guide me in the direction HE wanted me to go in.
That brought me to Biola.
I remember last year being completely miserable with my studies, and lifting my major up to Him, praying that He would lead me to the area in which He needed me...
He then led me into Journalism.
This year, I have prayed a similar prayer... allowing Him to narrow down His will even further... and have been led to switching my emphasis, as I have explained in previous posts.
He has continuously been confirming that this is, indeed, His will for my life... which has been indescribably outstanding.

His lead is so beautiful... it almost visibly sparkles.
I often times look myself in the eye and wonder, "What is it that He wants? What is it I could do for Him?"
He never fails to answer my self questioning.

Holding His hand and walking toward His next stop is dreadfully wondrous...
I know its His plan... and I know He'll get me there if it really is what He wants...
its all a matter of trust now.
Trust in the silence... trust in the calm... trust in the chaos and also in the surging storm...

Its lovely, ever so lovely letting Him lead for once... a new experience that I plan to transition to every area of my life...
I want every pathway to sparkle and every choice to be overflowing with peace.

Choking on CO2 and frog lips

Ciao amici,
I sat at the red light staring blankly probably only three feet in front of me.
Safe, I know... brilliantly safe.
The radio was silent as my poor, beater car coughed and sputtered, trying to stay alive through the remainder of the light's cycle.
The red light could have stayed red for an eternity... and I quite possibly wouldn't have taken notice.
My thoughts engulfed my entire being... and I barely noticed my old man car grumbling at the fact he would momentarily have to try to pick up momentum again once the light flashed the signal for the races to begin.
But the light turned green, the races began, and I was off like a shot... leaving my troubled thoughts at the signal line at Rosecrans and Biola Avenue.

The thoughts floated back as I sat in a theatre filled with ridiculous junior high girls and even more ridiculous high school girls, and past pathetic college girls... all swooning at the male cast of a certain new cinema production that has been long awaited by the youthful feminine world.
There are "teams" in this craze.... which is something to laugh at in itself.
But I'm going to be absurdly honest with you and say that I myself relate far too much with one of these "teams"... and as I sat and watched the best friend's heart break on the silver screen, I felt a similar twinge of pain behind my rib cage.

Being THE "best friend" sucks.
I've written about that far too many times for me to get into it once again here... but I've stumbled (in every sense of the word) upon the conclusion that there are no true and intimate best friend guy-girl relationships that don't grow feelings of romance in one or more of the participating party.
I don't care what you tell me, its just not a safe possibility.

I think you can have close friendships... just not those close, one on one, you confide in me and I'll confide in you and all will be fine and dandy in the world friendships with someone of the opposite gender.
It mostly always results in the heartbreaker driving away leaving the heartbroken behind in the cloud of CO2, wondering if they were simply someone different if things would be different.

As I talked with the person I confide in the most, I let the words fall out of my mouth as I shared with her my newest prayer... as I've realized my mid-summer night's dreamlike nightmare was childishly foolish and hopelessly destructive.
I've been told to pray for specifics... though, at times, I feel like praying for specifics is unacceptable.... a conclusion that I am quickly growing to learn is a stupid one.
What if just this once, I showed up in God's throne room boldly and began expressing what it is my heart is crying out for?
What if just this once, I begin to pray every day for a new turn of events that is unlike anything I have ever experienced?
What if just this once, I trust that there is a transformed frog waiting to meet me instead of running around kissing the same ones I have thinking they might change?
What if I pray to be the best friend that is really the best friend and is cherished as the best friend and is loved as his princess?

I've seen far too many happy endings to settle for mediocre.... nor will I ever again let myself think that I am settling for slightly higher than mediocrity. 
The stars are calling out my name.
Their pretty voices sing out for my finger tips as I stand on my tippy toes to try and reach them.

I regret... I've learned... and I'll forget.
It's time to grow up and meet better.

The Journal

Buona sera world,

As you can tell by the frequent posts of thoughts, rants, and other writings of mine that can be labeled with numerous titles... I love to write.

My writing was influenced by my mother at a very young age. 
You see, my mom would keep journals next to her bed with her pretty, loop filled, handwriting covering every single line of every single page.
I remember peeking into some of these journals at a very young age and seeing "Dear Father" and "Oh Lord" italicized at the top of a few left hand pages.
And that's where it all began... because my mom was and is my role model. I began my own intimate conversation journal when I was seven, and the habit has grown into an addiction.

Tonight, after almost a year of not having a pretty place to write down every prayer and thought that I have that I don't want anyone else to know, I brought home a new empty book.
It's lovely.
Teal and brown with gold highlights.
And its mine... my own space to write whatever I need to... to pray whatever my heart oozes.

Last night was the deciding factor on this purchase, as I cried myself to sleep for the first time in a long time, and all I wanted to do was have a safe place to write down my lamentatious prayers.
Prayers riddled with whys. 


Having a journal for most of my first year of college was tremendously helpful, both then and often times now... because I look back on my prayers and my poems and prose, and I see a girl growing into the woman she is created to be.
When I look in the mirror, I don't really see that person, nor do I think of myself as that person, because, let's be honest, I feel like I am still 14 years old and walking into high school for the first time.
But my journal is a mirror of who I am really.

It also is the guiding map to avoid the ridiculously huge mistakes that I've made in the past...
This summer, I put away my map and immediately fell into the enormous pot hole I had charted out just months before.
It left me bruised and now has left me absolutely heart broken for a third time. 
I glance back at the tear stained pages of last November, and I see my hurt manifested through red ink... and I see its exactly the same place as where I am now.
And I hear His voice ever so clearly as He says "Darling, why don't you listen to Me? I don't want you to hurt this way ever... It was never My intention."

It was never His intention... nor do I understand why He allowed it to happen... and I don't believe that He will reveal that mystery to me in the near or late future.
But it happened... and I alone am having to deal with the consequences.

I feel very alone... and for once, I'm more than ok with that.
For once, I want to be left alone.
And for the thousandth time, I want to slip away without anyone knowing and never come back... because running away is simpler than dealing with hurt and the anger.

Thank goodness for a pretty blue journal that can hold my tears, frustrated prayers and names.

Little sub-points a and b

Hello friend,

I don't doubt that you have an image of your self in your mind.
That image can shift at a moments notice, turning into something unexpected or pleasant given the circumstances.... but its your own image.

I've been thinking a lot recently on how to view yourself in a godly light... what does it mean to be made in His image? How should that influence my actions? How am I to stare into the big brown eyes of my reflection and see myself as He wants me to see myself?

We're all created differently... different strengths, different weaknesses, different dreams, different mistakes... just different.
I am not the same as my roommate, who is quite and curious.
I'm not the same as my best friend, who has a way of gently, yet bluntly, stating the obvious.
I'm not the same as other friends, who possess many different gifts that God has blessed them with.
But you already know that...

I'm Ali... I like white cheddar cheetos and writing.
I forgive others easier than most, and have been given the gift of encouragement and the loyalty of a golden retriever.
I find myself defining my moods through the songs I listen to... and I don't really appreciate or like running around difficult and/or ridiculous situations; I like things short, simple and to the point.
I learn by doing and seeing.
I've made more than my share of mistakes... I've been foolish and unnecessarily ignorant. I've trusted when I shouldn't have... forgiven and befriended when I should have forgiven and kept away... and I still cry over missing those whom I love that are not really in my life like they used to be.
I'm learning to be more in-your-face... as its what my potential future requires of me... and honestly, I'm loving every minute of it.
I like playing card games, and sometimes Monopoly.... and I love running around outside.
The whole world knows when I'm excited... and I feel smart when I read the New York Times.
I find myself consistently re-reading the same books in the Bible, and they never cease to speak God's knowledge into my soul.
I write down everything, and I remember numbers better than anything else.

I don't know how to correctly view myself...
All I know is I don't want to be swayed. I feel I'm swayed more often than I really should be... and it's infuriating.
Who I am should give me roots... and I don't want to be undefined or shallowly rooted.
I'm fighting for this, and I'll fight till I've either bled to death or conquered.

What defines me?
Is it what I do, or who I think I am?
Nah... those are just little sub-points a and b.
I'm finding as I open my heart up more and more to God, I am exactly who I need and want to be.
Its beautiful.

Embrace and hold

Dear friend,

She glowed as she floated down the isle.

Her long, white dress flowed gracefully about her as she held his gaze.

She smiled excitedly, as each step she grew closer to becoming something new.

And taking his hand, she said "I do."

I sat watching... tears in my eyes as the sight I beheld was one of the most beautiful I have seen in my lifetime.

Yet, some of those tears sat in my eyes as I wished and hoped and wanted that which has not been given to me.

I am young.

Many say 19 is too young to be thinking about marrying someone... though often times I disagree.

Marriage does not gradually cease being hard as I advance in years.

Since I was little, getting married young was something I wanted....

And up until now, its been something that I've eagerly hoped for.

But "now" is transforming into something different.

Long standing hopes are the hardest to give up, because its those hopes that are engraved in your soul.

They are rooted and at home in your heart, happy and content to wait until they come to fruition.

Yet I'm finding as I learn to run instead of crawl in my faith, those hopes are being tied down to an altar that is going to be set ablaze.

I find myself in conversations with God where He whispers softly "What if that isn't what I have for you?"

And what if it isn't? What am I going to do with that hope?

Do I hold onto it for dear life and say "NO! I dearly want this! Can't You, of all people, see that?!"

Or do I raise the knife to slay the desire of my heart?

I think you might already know the answer.

My Father knows how badly I want that... and He knows that He has created me in such a way that I love loving someone.

I love it when I feel down about being alone in a coupled world that He speaks words of compassion saying, "Darling, fix your eyes only on Me. Let me dance with you now."

He's holding my hand and the matchbook as we stare at the struggling hope as it dies on the altar of my heart.

Do I still want to have someone love me soon?

Absolutely!

I just think its high time to embrace singularity and hold His gaze.

I've been told not to duck

Dear Reader, 
Curveballs are tricky.
You think they're going one way, and then they don't... because they do exactly what their title says they're going to do. 


In life, you're up at bat all the time.... and balls are flung at you moment by moment. 
I like to think that over the past month or so, I've been swinging strong at all the balls that come my way.
They've been straight shooters.
Pleasant surprises.
Easy to knock out of the park. 


But on occasion... as is the general way of life... there are a few balls that are thrown that knock you upside the head. 
Sometimes these knocks upside the head result in a happy ending... an ending that you like to retell. 
Other times, you wish you could skip over the instant replay and never remember it ever again. 


I had a small curveball thrown at me tonight. 
It was a marble sized one... nothing world changing. 
But it matters to me... and so I will write it down. 


About two weeks ago, I had a conversation with a friend that I didn't want to have. 
I have had feelings for this person for a long time now... feelings that I have suppressed and forgotten at points... but they've never ceased to be there.
Sadly, they don't necessarily feel the same... but we're good friends, and it shouldn't alter the friendship that we have, even though it may be hard for me at points. 
Because this person doesn't feel the same, I had to express that getting over those feelings was going to take more of a team effort than simply me forgetting the existence of those feelings. 
This seemed be a joint agreement. 
No verbalizing of how either of us feel... and no speaking of certain subjects. 


Today, out of jest, a rhyme was sent to me from him. 
I laughed as I read through his funny thoughts on what my very own theme song should be like.... causing my roommate to look at me like I was mentally ill. 
Then, the rhyme turned serious.... and I stuffed the phone that held it in my pocket. 
There was verbalization. 


Now, of course I want to hear things like that from him... 
but, why go there if he doesn't feel as I do? 


The marble sized curveball hit me hard on my forehead.
Maybe I'll get some sleep tonight... or maybe I'll lie awake with a throbbing memory. 


I have a feeling it will be the latter. 

The Ravings of an Insane Soapboxer

Dear Reader,

For about a week now, I’ve had two thoughts that have run through my head like the Roadrunner from Bugs Bunny…. And I’ve been the Coyote up until sometime last night and this afternoon.

Time can be a fuzzy thing.

Both are thoughts of heavy weight… so I think I’ll plunge into them one at a time, and not merge them together, even though they somewhat interact.

Thought One:

Forgiveness is a beautiful thing. I just finished 1,2 & 3 John as of yesterday for one of my favorite Bible classes here at beautiful Biola University (I can add more “B’s” to that sentence if you’d like). And I’m finding myself held to a concept of love that is ridiculous to the world around me.

Love those who have hurt me?

The world laughs in my face and says, “Surely, dear girl, you must be joking!”

But I’m not.

That doesn’t mean I’ll be a doormat, and let those who have hurt me walk all over my stubborn self. But I definitely won’t turn them away if they’re genuinely sorry for the things they did that caused me tremendous pain… nor will I deny friendship that I truly missed if it is being acted upon once more.

I’m not a blonde bimbo who knows nothing of what she’s getting into…

But I am an intelligent brunette who has been through this sort of thing once before, and knows better than the world could expect on what not to do ever again…

And to some, I may seem ridiculous to be willing to be nice to anyone who has caused me to shed tears of frustration and sorrow.

But let me ask you to consider something…

I think Jesus cried over the fact that I am a wicked girl who spit in His face and mocked His wounds… in which He willingly took on for me.

I think Jesus felt hurt and betrayed when I lied, cheated, lusted after, and gossiped when He deliberately created me to be something better.

I think that He has every right to hate me, to never speak to me again, and to treat me like the murderer that I am.

But He’s doesn’t.

And I think He deserves to have His actions respected, honored and followed by me… because that is what He has asked each and every Christian to do.

Love the Lord your God, and love your neighbor.

If I love Him, I’ll follow Him… even if its labeled insanity.

Thought Two:

Its amazing how a time in your life that can seem dark and dreary can be looked back upon as something good.

I’ve said that to myself at least three times today…

The struggle I went through at the beginning of the semester was hard…

But it was good.

It was good because it got me fighting again… and good because it got me to realize that I want and need nothing more than my Father.

He could have left me alone… but He didn’t… even when it felt like He did.

Beautifully good, wouldn't you say?

Anyways, I’m jumping off my soapbox now.

Its time I catch up on the sleep that I’ve missed….

Oh the life of a college kid…. I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Missing

You know those time in your life when you sit back and ponder the past years, wondering why things happened the way they did… and at points, wondering if they’re ever going to be that good again?

Tonight, my friends, is one of those nights.

Missing something is a strange thing, if you think about it …

It can even be a situation that seemed grim and unpleasant at the time, but has become one of your fondest memories.

I’m missing a lot of things actually…

My very first summer retreat….

Dressing up to go out with someone who gives you butterflies…

Late night ninja snack runs…

Walks through Old Town to kill time….

Reading books like Dante’s Inferno for assignments…

Jumping on sleeping roommates…

Leading worship at youth group…

Waking up to a text message that says “Hello beautiful”…

Writing an A+ paper…

Discussing ridiculously hard questions with friends…

Spontaneous late night movies…

Unforeseen events that you don’t think you want, but then find that you really do…

Watching shooting stars in the middle of no where at 2:30am….

“Reffing” ping-pong games….

Looking someone in the eye and seeing a genuine care within them that you didn’t expect…

What can I say… times are good and times are not good.

And its those vividly good times that plague your mind on nights like these.

Perspective is Everything... Bold, Capitalized and Underlined.

Dear Reader,

I am 19. Some see that as young… I see it as impossible. But it’s the age of finding and becoming who you are supposed to be.

I often times find myself staring into tired eyes in the morning thinking two thoughts:

1). Dear morning, I don’t mean to be forward, but I HATE you.

2). Who am I, and what am I meant to do?

I guess number 2 is two thoughts… but you get what I mean.

The second thought sticks with me through the whole day, usually. And it’s either drowned out by the rush of papers and reading and getting to class on time… or some other worry or care.

But I find it funny and wondrous how every time my perspective goes off the radar with obscurity, my patient and gentle Father ushers direction back into my life.

You see, I am naturally a very stubborn person… which can be used to God’s glory at points because I don’t take the nonsense, such as the “Hate Speech Laws” and the thought that you have your right and wrong, and I have mine, lying down. 

You want to get in a heated argument with me? Tell me that you think Obama deserved the Nobel Peace Prize…  because personally, I think he really doesn’t.

But more often times than not, my stubbornness gets in the way of righteousness… because I sit believing I’m completely right.

When I sit on my homemade throne of right, I see meaning and purpose slip away… or I forget to watch it, so that it doesn’t slip away.

You see, the world… the lovely “right” world… tells me to make myself to be someone… to be the next Hilary Clinton, or some other “brilliant” person…

And there are points when even the Christian society says “Be something for the faith… to further the faith… become a great name to do great things for the Kingdom!”

As a 19-year-old college student… that lie is very practical. Do something that will change the world, and do not settle for anything less.

Check. Understood. In the process of doing.

Don’t worry, world! Don’t worry Christian society! I will prevail! I will conquer! I will be SOMEONE!

But at the end of the day, what’s the point?

Why be someone? Why do things that will ultimately be forgotten?

I’m not going to be Achilles and have my name remembered… I’m not going to discover gold at the mill that is named after me, causing a rush of greed to swell to the west… I’m not going to invent a light bulb or walk on the moon or be so smart that people use my name in vain in parking garages.

Why would I want to be?

Because in all reality, unless you are a history buff/addict/freak, no one cares what anyone did before they themselves graced the world with their amazing, awe inspiring, incredible presence.

That mentality… the mentality of “I breathe! Think I’m awesome!” is generally what drives us.

Nobody cares about anyone but number 1.

Yeah, light bulbs are great… yeah, awesome feat in walking on the moon… go Armstrong…. Way to go Franklin in electrocuting yourself so that we can have machines to make coffee for us in the morning.

Yipee skippy.

There’s no real point. I don’t flip on my lights in my dorm room and say “Oh! Thank you Edison! Thank you Franklin! Thank you for discovering and inventing things like light bulbs and electricity!”

But I honestly haven’t thought about those two in a very long time…

Maybe I should thank them, but realistically, who does?

Solomon had the same problem when he looked at everything under the sun…

“Remember also your Creator in the days of your youth, before the evil days come and the years draw near when you will say, ‘I have no delight in them’; before the sun and the light, the moon and the stars are darkened, and clouds return after the rain… Remember Him before the silver cord is broken and the golden bowl is crushed, the pitcher by the well is shattered and the wheel at the cistern is crushed; then the dust will return to the earth as it was and the spirit will return to God who gave it. ‘Vanity of vanities,” says the Teacher, ‘all is vanity!’” (Ecc. 12:1-2, 6-8).

But Solomon forgot one aspect of life that is important… instead of focusing on the fact that everything will fail in the end…. that the day will grow dark, the beautiful will be destroyed… instead of thinking of those things, the focus should be an “above the sun” approach.

Instead of “everything is vanity under the sun”… what about “everything is glorious above the burning ball of fire that warms the atmosphere”?

Perspective is everything.

Bold, capitalized and underlined.

Change it, and you will change.

Gain a right one, and you will live righteously…

Pick one that’s askew… and, well, you’re screwed.

I had a great perspective leaving my freshman life at the end of May.

I read my confessions of a former freshman, and I gasped at some of the things I said back then… and I wondered to myself, “Where’d I go?”

I got back to school… and things were, well, quite off.

God knew it…

And when you’re off… He doesn’t let you remain off…

Like we’re talking majoring spankings and time outs here.

But in my breaking… as I opened myself to changing back to the way of His own…. He hasn’t just left me in realizing that grace is the most beautiful gift I could ever receive…. And that I don’t come anywhere near deserving it….

But He is blessing me in ways that leave me in wonder…. Ways that make me pause with tears in my eyes and an overwhelming joy in my soul and lift up a prayer of “You don’t have to treat me this way, Father. I deserve so much less.”

I guess I’ve discovered the attitude of the prodigal son…. I deserve nothing, yet You accept me back into Your arms, and You bless me.

Vanity… its all vanity?

Not anymore.

If the perspective is on His eyes, you can’t go wrong… because where He goes, you will follow.

A Runner without Running Shoes

Hello world, 


This early morning begins, just like all the others.
Something beautiful in the night time air... laughter, shooting stars... what it is, I don't know.
But there's something different.


I don't think I've gone on a wilder ride than I have this week....
its a week that I never want to relive...
nothing drastic, just the life of a 19 year old girl... and all of the charms that come along with that bracelet.
But I found myself taking a nightly walk this evening at the lovely hour of midnight.


I love walks. I go on walks when I really need to think, or be alone with God.... to breathe and sometimes to cry.
The quadruple collided in the middle of McNally as I plopped down in the very wet grass and stared up at the sparse amount of stars that graced this evening with their presence.
Orion looked magnificent tonight.... and I have a feeling that the bladed army in McNally is going to be one of my best friends by the time I graduate.


Trust is a funny thing. You think you trust someone, and then you find out that you don't... you really really don't.
Trust, according to that big book on my book shelf named "DICTIONARY" is, "a : assured reliance on the character, ability, strength, or truth of someone or something b : one in which confidence is placed" (http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/Trust)


I found I don't really trust Someone I thought I did.... at least, not in the way that I should. 
Story of my life. 
I sometimes think that I beat myself up too much... but how can I not? I feel like an athlete... beating their body into shape to perform perfectly. 
I often wonder how Paul did it. 


I want to run the good race... 
I feel the need to run the good race... 
yet I'm finding myself looking at my feet, realizing that I forgot my running shoes. 


How do you not trust a Father that is providing beautiful things in your life?
How do you feel alone in the midst of 4000 students?
How do you run away without running away? 


Can it be next Fall yet?
I'm ready to go... right now.  


I feel change breathing down my back... and I'm thankful for it. 
No more yesterdays... 
those are in the past, and the past must lie. 
So what then shall I do?
I think I'll put my confidence in a statement a great mentor gave to me three summers ago: 
"Love God, nothing is fatal, and everything is going to be okay" (Matthew Anderson). 


How simple trust can be... if you're a child at heart.... 
I have the childlike thing down to a science, as I don't believe I'll ever fully grow up.
So I sing and pray with tears freshly falling "You're the shelter in the storm, you're the dearest friend I know. Oh Light of the World, carry me home! Oh, for grace, to trust You more."


If Jesus can save me.... can't He do anything?
Try to tell me He can't...
My God DIED... if that's not a contradiction, I don't know what is... but its true.
He died and resurrected Himself.
If He, a perfect being, can take on sin and conquer it... then I don't know what He can't do.


I just pray for more trust.
I think its something given.... not made within.

Finding my meaning of this moment.

You think I would have learned by now... after a year and 9 weeks of attending this school, you'd think I would know better than to go into the Caf at 5:15 in the evening and hope that its not crowded. 

As I dodged the soccer jocks who think they own the floor, ducked under the trays of a group of girls talking about how they, too, hope for a ring by spring, and maneuvered around a few other hundred people... I felt in all physicality how I feel emotionally at this glorious moment. 

You know that feeling? 

Where the world is moving too fast to really catch a glimpse of what's actually going on... 

the days when you really don't do anything, but you feel like everything happened? 

Today is one of those days. 

Actually, the past 6 months has been "one of those days." 

My friends laugh and say they can write a movie from the events of my life... 

and I'm not going to lie, I love all the weekly conversations about how last week is COMPLETELY different from this week in one aspect of my life or another... 

but I feel a lack of air. 

Over the past three weeks, I have done the following:

-prayed for direction.

-pushed away a friend whom I dearly love because I feel hurt and betrayed.

-missed the friend I pushed away. 

-watched the prayer for direction be answered very bluntly by God.

-had a meeting that changed my life. 

-changed my focus for my academics.

-aced a test (which I'm very proud of... yes, I'm tooting my horn... don't scoff). 

-changed my focus in my relationship with Christ (I just love it when you get way off and you have to correct it). 

-planned to go across the country for my the beginning of my Junior year. 

-wrote 3 newspaper articles.

-sat in 3 AS meetings. 

-and received an email from someone I was not expecting to speak to in the near future... let alone in the far future.

All these things have caused my world to literally spin wildly out of necessary control. 

The axis is broken ladies and gentlemen, and the globe on which my life lives is careening out into the middle of space.... cold and alone. 

I'm a little tired of feeling the need to strap on a seatbelt like the ones most NASCAR racers strap on before the fly 500 times around Daytona. 

I don't want boring... because I don't think I would do well with boring... 

but I want to get off the roller coaster for two and a half minutes and catch my breath, my thoughts and have my stomach settle. 

I'm going back to my early high school roots and listening to Hawk Nelson's new stuff... which I found is relational to me in tracks 4, 5 and 11 of "Live Life Loud."

There's a lyric/chorus that really gets me every time I hear it... and my heart screams out "YES! That's exactly how I'm feeling!"

"Don't look back, I won't look back now.

 Hey yah gonna find a new beginning

Lately tired of the life I’m living
Find a way to make a change
In the lives of all of us who need
To find the meaning of life."

I want to find meaning... and gosh darn it, I know I'm close!

I've got a point... I am a sub-point... or a sub-character (and a very sub sub character, if I do say so myself) in the beautiful love story of my Lord and His Church (which I am thankfully a part of)... 

but sometimes I feel like that point is very fuzzy... or stretched from lack of slowness. 

As I hyperventilate, I sing (how that's possible, I don't know... but it is, apparently, in my imagination)

"Oh for grace to trust You more... Give me strength to trust You more."

The dot's a fuzzy blur... but know I'll be more than fine... there's a point still... 

He's my point.

Thank God He's my point. 

To jump or not to jump

There are a few things that I never want to become.

1). The 57 year old cat lady who never found love.

2). The 72 year old hag, who found love, lost it and is now bitter and scares little children away with a glare.  

3). A spiritually worn torn fool who gives up on pursuing righteousness. 

4). A girl who is given an opportunity that she lets slip through her fingers. 

5). A girl who is too flippant with her desires. 

The last two require a certain balance that I have yet to figure out. 

I don't want to be foolish and jump into something that isn't exactly what God has for me... but then again, what if He wants you to jump? 

I find myself really wanting to jump. 

I trust God's lead... and maybe His leading last year is leading to something I never thought it would because I was not ever interested in it before He brought it to my attention.... 

If this is the case, and I don't jump, I'll be number 4. 

But I also trust God's lead in the sense that He's led me to the point of using my artistic eye to glorify Him... and just because I'm not sure its exactly what I want to do doesn't mean that He doesn't want me to do it. 

I'm sure the martyrs didn't want to die... but they wanted what God wanted, so they went to their death glorifying Him. 

If this is the case, and I jump, I'll be number 5. 

The thing is, I'm happy with the direction God seems to be leading... I'm happy with it not just because its new and exciting... but I'm happy with it because I'm watching Him grow me and stretch me into someone I never thought I could be. 

I have peace in moving in that direction... and I don't know if that's because I want it so badly I could scream, or if its because it's real and right. 

More than anything, I want to get on plane next Fall, live on Capital Hill for a semester, and become a better journalist in every way by taking classes and interning with big publications in D.C. 

And I get the feeling that if I don't do it... I'm going to regret it forever. 

Even though its only been a week since I was hit with the decision of switching emphases and going across the country all by myself to live with complete strangers and learn how the journalistic world is changing... I've yet to stop praying and talking to people about it... and I think that I might jump, because it seems to be where God's leading. 

So I'm jumping... if its not right, I have a feeling God's going to catch me on my way down and reroute me. 

Onward to D.C. and completely renovating my wardrobe... I've never actually had to deal with a real winter. =) 

Clouds are deceptive

I woke up this morning with high anticipations of rain.
I love the rain more than I love most things... such as rollercoasters, a good prank and those oximoronic "all natural" white cheddar Cheetos.
I rolled out of my comfortable bundle of blankets, threw on a sweatshirt and then ran to the closed blinds to pear out of my enormous window.
It was sunny.
Disappointment swelled up within me... my dashboard weather widget had lied to me once again.... and I was actually crushed.
I began to get ready for my busy life as a student, but continued to return to the window... hoping that maybe my high hopes would blow in some freak storm that would drench me while I walked to my 9:30 writer's meeting.
At about 9:07... I looked out the window for a final time and saw the beloved Olive tree that is directly outside my window, whipping its branches out of fear or cold.
A huge grin spread across my face... there were menacing clouds that had rolled in within the 3 minutes I had not looked out my window.
Thus, I wrapped a scarf around my neck, bundled myself up in a warm jacket and went out to greet the fall weather with a smile.

The temperature is 66 degrees... there's wind, which is sometimes rather chilly, but fails to pose any sort of real threat.... and there are clouds that think its funny to sit above my head and not produce the rain that was promised to me by my dashboard widget!

Note to self: Do not get excited over rain unless you look out your window and it is streaked with raindrops.

What's in a name?

Fallout, as defined by Merriam-Webster's Dictionary, is a secondary and often lingering effect, result, or set of consequences. 

I find myself in fallout circumstances more often than not. As I stand in the shoes of a creative intellectual, I often times find myself with an array of thoughts that I wish I could express and discuss with others. Being a bible scholar, and an individual with a personal relationship with my Savior, Jesus Christ, my thoughts are often times spurred by my conversations with Christ and the convictions that I experience through those conversations. Though, I do, at times go off on topics that have no relevance to biblical thoughts whatsoever... but I whole-heartedly believe that writing like that is sometimes more God-honoring than any biblical blog could be.