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.