Her Flowers 


The autumn air was warm, yet crisp, and brought with it a lovely pleasant feeling. The kind that can only be felt if you really pay attention. She sat on the cold pavement and let the breeze swarm around her as she stared intently at the large pumpkin that was situated in her lap. She paid attention. She was vibrantly aware of the laughter around that rose and subsided as each new passerby came and contributed a funny story or some random anecdote. She sat in the company of her friends, and was acutely aware of that soft pumpkin smell that drifted all around them, as if it was a gentle haze that was determined to fill them with it's cheerful happiness. Gradually the light faded, the passersby became fewer and fewer, till only she and her two companions were left to carve their pumpkins late into the night. 


She stared at her pumpkin, almost content with the rose that peeked back up at her. It was then that one of the security guards sauntered up the steps to join the little party. 


"Belle, I think you have a delivery."


She continued to stare at her pumpkin. The rose still needed work and she did not particularly feel like getting up to do anything else until her pumpkin was finished. 


"It's flowers."


Frozen. She gripped the small carving knife tightly, and with as much control as she could muster, finished her petal then set the knife down. With, less than fluid movements she got up brushed herself off and then in a state of nervous excitement flew down the stairs, across the road, back up the stairs and into the grand lobby with her roommate in tow. All the while her mind was racing. Who? Why? Should I be scared? Should I be flattered? Finally, to prevent herself from going mad she forced out all the thoughts and decided to calm down and just take it as it came.


When it did come it came in the form of a lovely vase, small and not showy (she unconsciously breathed a sigh of relief). Nestled happily inside were three small pink roses, a few stems of what looked like larkspur, and a whole bunch of something that she was not familiar with. The result: It was simple and therefore beautiful, and couldn't have made her happier. Attached there was a note that read "Fall in love with a girl who loves flowers." This of course was in response to her previous facebook status "fall in love with a guy who loves to give you flowers." You see, she really really really really really really really loves flowers. 


I will spare you the details of the poor girl's distraught mind. Her thoughts ranged from "what if it's a stalker" to "it could just be one of my girl friends being silly right?" I must say, she got a lot of laughs when this last hypothesis was produced. 


Guys, you may be alarmed by the amount of drama that goes into receiving an anonymous bouquet of flowers, but for us girls, it is quite an occurrence. Especially for individuals like Belle, things like this were exceedingly rare, if not nonexistent-up-until-now. Take courage though. After much hypothesizing, Belle decided to simply take the flowers for what they were: a thoughtful and beautiful gesture. 


This story has an extraordinarily happy ending. The next morning, just before chapel her roommate came up to her.


"I know who it is!" 


It was revealed that three wonderful friends had seen Belle's status and thought "we have to do something." In the end belle had interpreted the gesture correctly.


They are now sitting on her window sill alongside another beautiful bouquet sent by her parents to make the anniversary of her baptism. They fill the room with a happiness that can be provided by little else. Let it suffice to say that Belle is immensely grateful and pleased.

... which can be extremely trying, especially when you have three 90 minute classes to attend.

Luxury: To be buried in a scarf

My Dear Darling Rain,

The rain poured around me, gently brushing against my face, yet fiercely clinging to my hair. It's such a short walk from my dorm to the BHC, our main academic building. Still, the rain had its mindset on playing with me for as long as it possibly could. I pulled my coat tighter around me to block out the wind. Rain I could handle, wind is an entirely different creature. 


In a matter of moments I was settled happily at a small table in the coffee shop, coffee in one hand, Mere Christianity in the other. Yes. It is going to be a beautiful day. 


The Challenge: 
Day 2 has come and the challenge is living up to its name and being a challenge. I'm learning more about myself than I thought. Truth be told, I do depend on makeup more than I had originally hoped. Evidence? After I had gotten dressed I stared longingly at my makeup bag thinking, I wish I could be pretty today. I guess I'll have to wait till saturday. 


It was then that I was hit, once again, by how focused on my outward appearance I am. I'm even tempted to think that this has been a struggle for much longer than I have realized. There has been so many other, far important things, in my life, that I never stopped to think about just how much time and thought is spent on what I look like. 


Please note: I am by no means saying that girls shouldn't ever care about what they look like, and that they should only walk around in sweats and a t-shirt all day long. The idea sounds appealing, but personally, I'm a fan of dressing up nice and looking like a lady (I mean, you kind of have to be to go to a school that requires business casual from 8am - 5pm ;) :)). So this is not a call to leave your appearance in the dust.... as a matter of fact, this isn't really a call at all. It's just a slight nudge. 


How many mornings do you wake up and sift through clothes trying to find the outfit that will make you prettier than the other girl? Or even prettier than you were yesterday?


I must say, one perk of this whole no makeup thing is that it takes me 2 minutes to get ready (if I have to), whereas before it would sometimes take 5 minutes not to mention those mornings when I really took my time and got ready in 10 minutes! ;) :)

Do not let your adorning be external—the braiding of hair and the putting on of gold jewelry, or the clothing you wear— but let your adorning be the hidden person of the heart with the imperishable beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which in God's sight is very precious.

Good grief, I love this verse. :)

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable--if anything is excellent or praiseworthy--think about such things.

Oh, really?

Fall is certainly upon us. What I wouldn't give for a lovely warm coat. :)

Oh what joy it would be to lose myself in these books, reading for hours on end.

Two things I love: red lipstick and old cameras..... Speaking of which, two dream items are a polaroid camera and a typewriter.

Be pretty if you must....

Lord, please help me conquer all things through you.

"To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket- safe, dark, motionless, airless--it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable." ~C.S. Lewis 

Bridget: "You're very whimsical."

Me: "Whatever do you mean by that?"

Granted, these weren't our exact words, but you get the idea. We looked up the word, and I was very pleased by what we found.

Whimsical: playfully quaint or fanciful, especially in an appealing and amusing way (also capricious in behavior ;) :))

Sunday: 

Loveliness

         Taking a deep breath she burst out the doors into the pouring rain. Immediately the warm musty smell enveloped her as the cold clear drops beat mercilessly against her face and arms. She put her hands up to cover her face as she ran through the torrential downpour. Her skirt whipped at her quickly soaked legs. Even as the seconds flew by she was becoming weighed down by her now wet clothes. Bursting down the stairs, nearly slipping, twice she finally burst through the doors of the small townhall, and ducked quickly in. 
         She was met with a blast of frigid air. Within a matter of moments she was chilled to the bone. All the same, with a steady resoluteness she straightened her dress, pulled her thin sweater around her shoulders, and shook the water from her hair. Soon she was sitting down, finally able to rest. She let her fingers trace the keys, letting the soft sounds they made warm her from the inside. It was a gradual warmth, but progressive all the same. She smiled happily to herself as each note brought a different emotion, a different ache, a different pleasure to her soul.
         This was reality. Right here before her. Who knew it could be so colorless and yet still sparkle so brilliantly. Some people's reality flows from their mouths, their actions, their words. Her reality shot straight from her heart, and poured out through her fingers. An hour later she had written a song.

The lovely thing about writing music is that you get to see all of reality spread out, right there in front of you. But it's not the kind of reality that makes you want to hide. It's the kind that has been dealt with. The kind that has already flowed out. Once your reality has poured out of your palms and covered the pages in a myriad of notes, there is little possibility of it ever shutting itself back in your soul. I play so that I may see my reality. 

Reality

Today:
Hello all, 
         As I sit here, once again buried in a couch filled with soft pillows, a cup of tea in one hand, Plato's Republic in the other, I can't help but think of how blessed I am. The Lord has been so abundant with his grace. I shrivel with inadequacy in the presence of his throne. He has given me peace when I was sure none would ever come. He has given me strength when I knew I had none left. As each day passes by I struggle with a complete and overwhelming sense of helplessness, and yet, I know that he is with me, guiding each day as it comes.

Whatever is lovely, that is what I seek

         This morning I woke up feeling refreshed. Reading His beautiful powerful word only helped to solidify that. Then, oh alas, then did I open up the dreaded monster that was my computer. Let the evil facebook dominate my screen. And it was then that I saw it. A message from my mother. Few in words. But as I quickly skimmed over it, my heart sank, and my entire being was drained. Granted, I'm being a bit dramatic. ;) :) But when I saw her message, my heart felt like it physically sunk. Something that I have worked so hard to put behind me refused to stay put. Again it had come up, manifesting itself in another's response.
         As I look back, I realize how silly it was to let it affect me so. And yet the rest of the morning was dominated by my fears and anxieties. The message in chapel was so fitting. "What are we afraid of?" Was I really going to let the fear of what others think ruin a perfectly lovely morning. God gave me my answer. Not on His watch. ;) :)
         How quickly I am to let something that God is sure to take care of upset me. How easy it is for me to forget to depend on his promise that he loves and will take care of all his children. Will I ever learn.


It's high time I get back to the magical world of argumentation and cities and justice and truth. :)

"Don't spend time beating on a wall, hoping to transform it into a door." Find a window. It may be harder. It may take longer. But it will give you a chance to evaluate how much you want something, and it will give you a clearer picture of what you ought to do. 

I want my kitty very very much right now. Yes, I'm allergic, but only if the fur gets to my eyes. =)

OUGHT: Used to indicate duty or correctness, typically when criticizing someone's actions. 

DEVYNNE IS COMING HOME!

The Lord has answered his children's prayers. I do believe this has made me more happy and excited than I have been in so long!!!! <3

What a day this has been, what a rare mood I'm in. Spending an evening in deep conversation with a dear friend will do that to a person.

Oh how full my mind is. A good kind of full, and yet, a full kind of full. I think you know what I mean. Just because your brain is filled with good things, doesn't mean that your brain has the ability to deal with all of those things. I would take the time to put it all into a list, but frankly, I don't want to. I am content to let life be full, un-listed, and un-color coordinated.

Two things that have been on my heart the past week (I am sure they have been on my heart before, but I only just decided to voice them). I want to make a difference. I do believe those are the most cliche words out there when it comes to actions. And yet, I long for this. I don't want the glory of doing something, I don't want praise or attention. I just desperately want to bring glory to God. I want to have something to lay at his feet. Not in such a way as "look what I have done, now you can have it." But rather, "Oh Lord, how you have blessed me with this. My sole desire is to give it all back to you."

I want to help children in need. I want to minister to girls who haven't heard the word, who come from abusive homes, or have been rescued from sex/slave trafficking. If God asked me to leave everything I had to go serve on the mission field for Him, I would do it whole heartedly. willingly. joyously.

And yet, this is not what he is asking. He's asking me to be fully here. I feel so full of love for my sisters. Overwhelming to the brim with love. That's what I'm called to do right now. This actually brings me a vast amount of peace and happiness. :)

The second thing is this. I want so desperately to be elegant, and sophisticated. Among so many other things of course. :) For a while I thought about giving up the bubbly spirit that has always been a part of me in exchange for a quiet spirit. I've always thought that one can either be talkative vivacious person with a quiet, humble soulIn my mind, I find it difficult to reconcile these two. And yet, I can't lose my joy. It's so much a part of me that I can't suppress it, and trust me, I've tried. And failed. :)

In the words of a wonderful guy whose name starts with an A and ends with aron K. ;) "a quiet soul does not mean a quiet mouth."

I had fully intended on going on to post something deep, reflective, and very not self-focused. There's so much more I wish to share. But, my lovely roommates and I got into a deep discussion of all manner of things, and so I left my post, and returned feeling very uninspired.

In fairytales, there's always a neat tidy ending. This is not a fairytale. This is my reality. :)

One thing that I will never never never ever get tired of: an old book. The smell. The feel. If ever something was created to be lovely, it was an old book. :)

Prayer Request: Still very very sick. Running in the rain, the freezing weather, and stress hasn't helped much. Haven't gone to the doctors yet, but if it persists for another week, then I'll go. Prayer much appreciated. <3

This evening I shall relate the events of the crazy day that the Lord has blessed me with.

JOY

How the Lord has blessed me with joy today. And to top that off, I finally have peace. Whether that changes to tired...ness is yet to be determined ;) :) (I wish there was a more lovely way to say that, weariness and exhaustion are too dramatic ;) :))

On another note, what a lovely clean it was. And the tea is absolutely delightful. Love you gracy! <3

"There is a time for work, and a time for love. That leaves no other time." -Coco Chanel 

Even now as I sit enveloped pillows and cushions, my head barely visible yet still slightly protruding out from the large couch, I wonder why in the world I am writing this post. Then as I sit here typing away I realize that this is my creative outlet, and I am comforted.

You see, so often I view other people's blogs (::cough:: noelle's ::cough::), and I think to myself, "I wish I had such important deep things to say." True, on occasion the Lord may bless me with something truly deep and introspective, but I never have the time to write it down. Which then leaves me wonder, what is the point of even keeping this blog. The answer? In a world where papers, books, and intellectual progress rule, my poor creative side often gets stifled. I rarely get time to write songs. Even when I do, rather than let the music slowly form beneath my fingers, as I let the it work through me and press away my aches, it seems to come crashing out all at once. Indeed, it has no other choice, for no sooner have I sat down to the piano, but then I have to get up. This constant suppression of creativeness can become overwhelming sometimes. And that is why I have this. I may rarely say something profound, or of any interest. Sometimes I'm not even personal. But it's an outlet all the same.

Pain


There are few things more complicated than love. Pain is certainly one of them. There are all sorts of pain -sometimes it's good, other times not so much. Tonight, I am going to talk about physical pain. After an absolutely glorious discussion at our church's bible study, I arrived back on campus at 10, fully intending on devoting the next two hours to all the editing my heart could stand. However, no sooner had my feet alighted on the stairs leading to my dorm, when suddenly and intense and acute pain swept through my body and landed comfortable in my stomach. To my dismay I discovered that focusing on anything would be of no avail. The only option: I simply had to walk it off.

Circling around the ferris wheel again and again, I let the cool night air sweep over and through me. I took deep breaths, tried to clear my mind, and still the steady piercing pain persisted. I cried out to the Lord, I prayed with all my heart. Not for physical relief, but for everything that my life had been. I brought it all to him: my hopes, my fears, my failures, my desires, my triumphs. And as I walked, my breathing became calmer, my steps became slower, and finally a peace settled through me and my mind went blank.

If you know me at all, you will realize that being able to walk without making some sort of list, or devising some scheme to do more work is a huge feat in itself. And yet it did not come with the glory or honor one usually receives after killing a beast. Rather a lovely quiet settled over my entire person.


It wasn't until 11 that the pain left my stomach (the little monster had worked its way into my head, but at least I could send my little creatures ad and vil to go kick the thing out).

My computer crashed. I thought about saying that in some very creative and hopefully elegant way, but an event such as this deserves no flowery prose to make it any less plain and frustrating than it is. Yet still God gave me that beautiful peace. Thankfully my story has a happy ending. I was able to finish my paper, and a significant amount of reading and all before 2am! :)

Prayer


It's the word on everyone's lips here at PHC. "How can I pray for you?" is echoed across the halls. I have found myself reveling in the weekly prayer meetings, and sunday worship nights. Praying for others has intensified my love for them. But tonight, I was struck by something.

"Belle, how can I pray for you?"

This was the first time someone (besides Betsy, but she doesn't count ;) :)) had said those words and seemed genuinely interested in my prayer request. I quickly prepared a bullet list in my mind of things I needed prayer for. We sat down on the couch, and then it happened.

From my soul flowed longings I hadn't even fully recognized. Fulfillment. Joy. Peace. "I couldn't be happier if I could just spend an entire day in God's word." Doubt. Fear. Overwhelming. All these words and thoughts flowed out of me, and all she had asked was how she could pray for me. Does this mean I've been holding all of this in? I certainly don't think so. But I felt so touched by how much she cared. I didn't feel like an agenda. I didn't feel like a bullet point on a list. "Remember to pray for Belle." This was something much sweeter. A friend who wanted to hear how she could most help me. Prepared to return the favor, I asked her what she needed prayer for. She smiled and quickly brushed off the comment as if to say, "No, right now is about encouraging you." This act of self-less love encouraged me to no end. Granted, she's my roommate, so I'm sure I'll be able to return the favor very soon. :)

Passion - in which you view my mind.


Sigh. Love. Hurt. Joy. Prayer. Lemonade. Friends. Work. Lists. Dancing. Thinking. meditating. looking forward to sunday. very much looking forward to sunday. elegance. softer voice. don't talk so much. be a lady. don't let things keep you up at night. more pain. more hurt. more love. more joy.

It's calming....

It rained so hard today. Winter is already upon us. Funny thing about rain. If you took one rainy day out of the year, you wouldn't really be able to tell if it signaled summer and warmth and life, or winter.

Slamming the car door behind me, I didn't wait to hear whether my friend was wishing me goodbye, or simply driving away. Though out in the rain for only a moment, the tiny bullets were already flying at my face, as the wind whipped at the edge of my coat. As I ran I pulled my coat tightly around me but to no avail. The wind mercilessly knocked me about till I half ran half stumbled into the warmth of the little Coffee shop. I took a breath to collect myself, and try to fix the curly, frazzled mess that was my hair. I quickly made my way up to the counter and ordered a new favorite of mine, a hazelnut chai tea.

After my order had been made, and pleasantries had been exchanged with the barista, I managed to find my way to a snug corner, complete with comfy couch and lots of pillows. I arranged the lecture I was about to read neatly on my lap, and snuggled back into the pillows, trying to hide in as much warmth as I could. Before I had even read the first sentence, the barista came over and handed me the small cup of happiness.

It was then determined that the greater necessity at that very moment was inspecting the contents of the cup to make sure they were satisfactory, my lecture could wait another minute. As I lifted the top I nearly died (pardon the drama ;) :)). There was the most beautiful layer of foam I had ever seen. Lifting the cup to my lips, I was delighted to find its contents twice as delicious as it smelled and looked. The warmth found its way straight to my soul where it stayed, happily, for quite some time.

Now, completely content, I put in my headphones and let the soft sounds of celtic music block out the quiet murmurings and mutterings of the other customers. Immersed in warmth and happiness I set about reading my lecture. I do believe all reading should be done in such a fashion.

This is a dare I made to myself.

I watched as the two men hurled arguments at each other. One man was cool, calm, and deliberate, yet his words pierced the soul and the mind like little arrows or truth and logic, unable to be overturned. The other man, much larger, fought back with an arrogant insolence that made the whole crowd  hope for the smaller man to win out. And here I was, nodding at Socrates's logic, and frowning at his opponents arrogance.

I lifted my head out of my book, and settled back in my chair, content to let my mind rest for a moment. As I snuggled under my massive quilt I took in the beauty around me. I was sitting at a small round, light yellow writing table that was comfortably situated in the corner between two large windows that looked out onto the glorious lake Bob. :) The lake and the meadows beyond it were covered in a hazy mist as the rain gently clung to the earth in a sweet embrace 

The table itself was lovely enough to look at. It was covered in newspaper writing, as if someone had taken a newspaper, ink still wet, and let it dry to the table, leaving a perfectly mirrored image. My chair was directly beside one of the two large windows, giving me full viewing access to the buildings on my right, as well as the sidewalk that sloped gently under my feet, to Town Hall (the basement level). I sighed heavily and leaned my warm, slightly feverish, head against the cool window pane and closed my eyes. The rain beat gently against the window. tap. tap. tap. I could stay in this moment of peace and tranquility forever.

But then I would not be living. For at that moment two dear friends came and dragged me out of my quiet moment into the pleasantries and silly pleasures of being female, namely picking an outfit.

I look forward to many more of these moments as I rest in my own little corner.

An armful of warm clean towels...

Yummy.