Posts
Fear, Worry, Stress, Exhaustion, Overwhelmed
yet
Full of joy, Content, Trusting, Hoping (desperately)
It must be finals
2011
There once was a
young girl named lizzy
Who’s puppy was
all in a tizzy
His nose ran
away
His
stomach would stray
And
his fingers were constantly busy
Now
lizzy, she grew and she grew
And
her puppy grew with her two
But
no matter the changes
Or
trials or dangers
She
never knew just what to do
About
the dear pet who would freeze
Every
time someone round him would sneeze
He
was scared to get sick
And
he thought that the trick
Was
to hide behind poor lizzy’s knees
One
day when dear puppy had hidden
Behind
lizzy’s knees without reason
Lizzy
said “that’s enough”
Took
him by the scruff
And
dragged him to Old Dr. Ridden
“Dr.
Ridden!” said Lizzy, a-quaking
“I
am tired of dear puppy’s aching”
Get
ride of the pain,
The
fear and the shame,
And
remind puppy dear of his making!”
Dr.
Ridden said, “Surely my dear.
It
will cost you a bit though, I fear.
I’ll
use all my tests
And
I’ll try my best
But
be prepared for worst, are we clear.”
Lizzy
pulled out a hand full of change,
And
with that everything was arranged
For
the cure to be had
The
result, good or bad,
So
puppy could be *“home on the range”
*Meaning
back to his normal self
Dr.
Ridden, asked questions and prodded
All
the while dear puppy just nodded
Not
sure what to say
Thinking
this was mere play
And
believing all soon would sorted
It
started at first as a tear
Dr.
Ridden said, “Well how about here?”
He
poked in a spot
That
made puppy wail
And
freeze all up with the fear
“Oh
my, well I see how this works,
My
bringing this up causes jerks
In
your eyes and your heart
Well
now, there’s a start
I’ll
cure you of all these bezerks.”
All
this time, Lizzy sat quite wide-eyed
Her
puppy, though scared, never cried.
But
now here he was
Wailing
loud, just because
Lizzy
wanted to have him be tried
Now
here’s where the story gets icky
Dear
puppy was becoming quite sticky
With
all of the tears
Built
up through all the years
He
had hidden so well all his sicky…….ness
Lizzy
wanted to take it all back
But
the damage had made the attack
On
poor puppy’s brain
He’d
ne’er be the same
She’d
never get him back on track
She
burst through the door of the test room
And
snatched puppy dear from his dark gloom
And
carried him home
Trying
not to bemoan
Her
decision to bring him to doom
From
then on Lizzy kept Puppy close
So
that no one could try to fix him
Resolution
you ask?
What
happened to rhyme?
They
both don’t exist in real life
I’m afraid I have to switch my tone just a bit in order to cover everything I want. Rather than discuss a single event in excessive detail I am going to report on a series of operations that have taken place. Warning: They might get a bit dull.
Operation: Flight
 |
| It's pretty gorgeous... <3 |
Operation: Cooking
In the last 48 hours I have made an amazing batch of brownies, Pumpkin Pull-Apart Monkey Bread, and the best grilled cheese sandwich thing I have ever had. I took a piece of French bread, placed a thing apple slice (circular not triangly) beneath slices avocado, which lay beneath pieces of freshly cooked bacon. Then I lay slices of amazing mozzarella on top and cooked it in our toaster oven (we don’t believe in microwaves ;) :)). Soooo good. There’s still lots to make, so this operation is a work in progress. Pretty self-explanatory. So far I visited my high school and saw the musical they did (which was pretty fabulous). Almost cried after seeing Barnett start tearing up (I didn’t say your real name so you wouldn’t be embarrassed ;) <3). I sure have missed you kid. :) Saw all the church people, and spent a wonderful Sunday afternoon traipsing about the town with Brenna, and then spending some wonderful time with Dev. <3 :)
Operation: SURPRISE
Allllmost gave Dad a heart attack. =D (No one except people at school and my mom knew I was coming home. Best surprise ever). Also made him cry. Dad never cries, so it was pretty epic. :)
I promise, the next post will be back to its delightfully excessive self. :)
P.S. Yes I have deactivated my facebook. Why not just sign out? Good question. So glad you asked. The main thing I'm tired of is seeing that there are 500 pictures of me on facebook...... there's no reason for that. When I eventually go back, I am going to delete all the pictures and videos (after saving them on CD's), and use my facebook to shamelessly promote my music. :) That and keep in touch with all my friends overseas and across the country. :) ALSO if someone really wants to get ahold of me, they will.
AND I have also been playing christmas music shamelessly since October. :D So for all you people (you know who you are) who have told me that I'm crazy, I'm sorry but I like me some christmas music. :) I'm looking forward to trying eggnog for the first time. :)
It was a
surprisingly cool evening. The air sort of drifted through the darkness,
swirling around streetlights and windows, trying to break in at every
opportunity. Every time a door creaked open, the coolness was the first to slip
quietly through the crack and fill the unsuspecting room. Though the night was
not frigid, beneath the stillness there lay the slightest hint of chill that
created the overall sensation that soon, she (the cold queen) would come in all
her icy glory to sweep up unsuspecting passersby before they had time to fully
escape into the inviting embrace of the warmth that sat just inside closed
doors. What would the cold do with her victims? She would chill them till they
were sure not a bone had been left untouched. But this cruel queen would be
caged a bit longer, while her much sweeter sister filled the night with soft
coolness.
Light
emanates from the windows, softness playing at the pane, creeping along the
cracks, not desperate to get out but curious about the people that pass by. A
young girl slips into a warm black winter coat and tucks her thick scarf neatly
behind the lapels. After quickly adjusting her loose bun, she lifts a black
knitted beret over her head, and pins it snuggly in an attempt to keep her hair
from falling completely apart. Her thick brown stockings keep her legs from
freezing, as she patters softly out onto the landing. Down a quick flight of
stairs, then it’s out into the cool evening, leaving behind the comfort of all
that is warm and bright.
She
hums a song nervously, and jingles the keys as she steps in-between rows of
parked cars. She’s never been in favor of still nights.
Quietness and stillness are different.
Quietness has a full feeling, while stillness has a sense of anxiety. Or
perhaps it’s the other way around… Or more likely it implies to different
scenarios. When snow falls the night is still, but in a soothing comforting
sort of way. But snow makes even the fiercest of predicaments seem better. I
would add another qualification, but I do believe I’ve just maxed out.
Finally
locating the small vehicle, she quickly disappears inside, starts the engine,
and is out of the parking lot in a dash.
Now
if you’ll imagine with me, an indie song that no one has heard of played by
some lonely-heart boy who no one will remember except “the boy who wrote that
one song that was in that one movie.” Lights: Street lamps and cars whirr by
and create soft patterns on our heroines car. Camera: She waits at a stoplight
and leans her head against the window allowing her mind to drift over
fantastical things. Action: She pulls into the parking lot and decides to park
in front of the familiar coffee shop rather than park in the Giant parking lot
(west coasters: Giant is like Albertson’s but smaller and not nearly as cool).
Stepping
out of the car, she plunges her hands deep into her pockets, buries her chin
further into her thick scarf, and quickly patters across the parking lot into
the store. Humming a little ditty, she walks through the isles collecting the
items she needs, tea for her throat, milk for her oatmeal, nutella for her room
(and overall happiness). Her walk is not rushed, rather each moment is spent in
deliberation, as she counts the tiles between isles, as she traces her fingers across
brightly colored Christmas decorations that are already littering the “holiday”
isle. Once she has everything she needs she meanders around and just so happens
to walk past the flower stand.
She
chews on her bottom lip as she stares at the brightly colored bouquets.
Furrowing her brow, she glares in frustration at the tempting array. A sigh.
The battle has been lost. If you can even call it that. Flowers must be bought.
Her previous annoyance instantly turns to rapture as she leans down and smells
each arrangement. In the end she decides to go with a bouquet that compliments
both elements of fall (in the light and dark orange daisies that are prominent
throughout) and winter (as evidenced by the white roses and white hydrangea
that make up the rest of the bouquet). Content with her purchases, she drapes
her brown book bag around her shoulder, takes her grocery bag in one hand,
bouquet in the other and happily proceeds back into the night.
The
rest of her evening is not terribly interesting. She went back to the car,
carefully deposited all items, and went into the coffee shop for small talk and
a drink (for her beloved roommate who had so gracious let her borrow the car).
The warm smells of pumpkin, cinnamon and chai wafted though the air, as she
smiled and talk to Brian as she waited for her drink.
Then
it was back out the door, into the car (cue sappy film music), down the lighted
street, into the parking lot, out of the car, and safely back in her room. Yes.
It had been a beautiful night.
The first
sensation she felt was the warmth that crept from her toes up through her and
into her heart as she slowly woke up. She lifted her eyelids waiting for the
light to pour in, but her tired eyes were met with only a soft grey light. She
was buried under the comforter. Slowly she lifted her arms and pushed the
blankets from her face looking up to the ceiling. The room was covered in a
soft morning light. Unlike the usual, this light was blue and grey without a
hint of yellow. It was not the dark of early morning, nor the brightness of the
sun peeking in through the windows. Rather it was the soft still light that
appeared briefly between the hours of 7:00 and 8:00. In a daze she shifted
forward and crawled across the bed to check her phone.
7:00am
You’ve got to be
kidding me. She groaned and crawled back, slipping back under the covers and
the warmth that immediately embraced her. The other girls were still asleep, so
she made sure not to make a sound. After ten minutes of starring at the
ceiling, her eyes wandered, eager for a new subject. They drifted along the
bright blue walls. Shifting her weight, she rolled onto her stomach, pushed the
curly mop that was her hair our of her eyes and beheld the beautiful scene. She
faced a large window that looked out onto the big back yard and the canal
beyond. In the corner of the window was a small dock that jutted into the clear
coldness. A boat rested on the bank beside the dock, waiting to used, reveling
in the fun it had the night before. This was the scene that she let her eyes
dance with until she finally fell asleep.
8:00am
Up again.
Quietly she made her way around Liss and Brittany’s sleeping forms, grabbed her
bible, and tiptoed downstairs. Still slightly dazed she drifted through the
living in a dream state, finally floating into the small, but beautifully
decorated kitchen. The cabinets, and counter tops were black, the wall a soft
yellow, and a precious island made of wood that had been stained off white. On
her other side was a small breakfast nook that contained a small table and
three chairs. She slipped into the chair that faced the window, curled up and
began reading her bible.
8:40am
To the floor and
hallways to stretch and workout.
9:00am
Back to the nook
to do homework, eat breakfast, and talk to Katelynn’s mom.
11:00am.
Finally everyone
wakes up.
Squeals of
delight cut through the evening air, as a small boat was discovered in the
backyard. “Let’s go out on the water,” seemed to fly from every mouth, until no
one could distinguish their own voice from another. A flurry of movement as the
boat was emptied of the leaves it had gathered during it’s period of neglect.
It was lovingly brushed off and pushed into the water as the friends crowded
around, anxious to start the adventure. The sun had long ago slipped into it’s
dark bed, leaving the moon to temporarily watch over the earth. Finally, with the
small boat out on the water, Alissa and I with great care slipped into the
front of the boat. Mike, Katelynn, Brittany, and Jesse quickly followed as Liss
and I clung to each other, for fear of tipping into the freezing darkness. A
push. Another. Another. And a final one, and off they were into the watery
mysteries. Two of them paddled out into the expanse. As I starred out over the
water, my eyes dancing from lily pad to lily pad, my fingers dipping in and out
of the passing water, causing ripples to embrace the side of the boat, my mind
wandered far. I lifted my eyes to the glorious sky, as the stars reflected in
my eyes, and the moon played tricks with the trees and the shadows that crept
along the water. This was my Walden.
Nine friends
squeezed into the dimly lit kitchen, as the warm smell of chocolate and soft
sounds of simmering water drifted around them. They exchanged pleasantries,
laughed softly, and sang quietly along as Jesse expertly danced his fingers
across the strings of his guitar. The tall one sat against the wall of the
small island, and smiled cheekily at the antics of the others. Another was
crouched under a table, much to the amusement of those around him. Another girl
sat perched beside Jesse, mug cupped gently in both hands as she sipped
delicately at its contents as if each drop was an ounce of life, and should not
be wasted. Lastly, I sat in my chair, let my head fall softly back, took in a
breath, and let the energy, the stress, the thoughts, the desires, the life
that I had lived during the last few days drip from my mind, sink into my soul,
and float away as I was filled with a quiet peace.
A soft melody floats
down gently from the floor above. It tugs gently at the sleeping form, drifting
into her head. She smiles in her sleep, if you can call it that. The moment
right before you wake, for a spilt second, two realities coincide, and you’re caught
in a breathless, lifeless, quiet, peaceful, stillness. That is where she lay
suspended…
Until the melody
pierced through her, causing her eyes to lift open and behold the wonders of
her ceiling. Another smile plays sleepily across her lips as she stretches and
then snuggles further the warmth of her comforter. Happily she checks the time
then the news and lastly her texts.
“IT’S SNOWING”
She laughs
softly, sure that it’s a joke. Even when she receives yet another text, her
brain is a bit too hazy to truly understand what’s going on. Mustering up her
strength she crawls to the edge of her top bunk bed and slides down the bed.
The floor is not so inviting as her warm bed had been. She shivers, her entire
body quickly shriveling up with cold. She stumbles her way over to the closet
and slips into a warm sweatshirt. Pushing the mess of hair out of her eyes she
makes her way to the window and lifts the shades
A gasp
As she beholds
the glorious scene before her. Snow dances merrily about, whirling and twirling
against the faces of the stragglers that race back to their dorms. The girl’s
heart is instantly warmed and filled with unspeakable joy. Squealing in
delight, she tears through her drawers to find a warm sweater. Then grabbing
her jacket and throwing on her rain boots, she races out the door, crashing
into the world outside. She practically runs around lake bob, laughing at the
scene before her. Stopping for a few minutes to take in God’s glorious
creation. An idea creeps into her head.
Her hands are
beginning to freeze, her hair is sticking her face, and yet she has just enough
strength to throw one well-aimed snowball at a friend’s window. Pleasantries
are exchanged. Taunts are thrown in the upward direction, as the girl strains
her head to look into the window. After the conversation has been resolved with
merriment, the girl scampers back to her room, grabs her computer and then runs
to the lounge. After being startled by Joe Jonas, she laughs and drops in her
little chair in the corner.
And writes
No, I have not died.
Yes, I still love you all and I still love posting.
No, I technically should not be posting right now because I have no time. ;) :)
Yes, I have decided to post anyway. :)
DONE: Spanish Midterm, Journalism Midterm, Freedoms Midterm, and Western Civilizations Midterm (MC)
TO DO: Spinney test, Theology test, Western Civ Midterm (essay), Freedoms paper, and Spinney paper
*Most in less than a week. God is good and strong. Much stronger than I am. Glory be to Him! :D
Out in the bitter cold they stood. In hushed voices they
cracked jokes, exchanged pleasantries, and did anything they could to keep
themselves awake and warm. The bus lights shone in the dark – a beacon of
escape. One by one they made their way through to the thick fingers of the
early morning into the small bus with the rose colored seats. Giggling, but
careful not to raise their voices – so as not to disturb the other passengers –
a sleepy but merry group made their way to the back of the bus and filed in –
three boys, one girl. The girl filed into the window seat in front of her group.
She wanted to spend time in God’s word before the sure-to-be-exhausting day.
Snuggling up against the window she took out her small red leather-bound bible
and poured over the book of Ecclesiastes.
After wading through a couple chapters and making a few
wonderful new discoveries Belle, as she was called, set down her bible, stared
out the window, and began to sing in a very quiet voice.
“Praise God from whom all blessings flow,
Praise Him all creatures here below,
Praise Him above ye heavenly hosts,
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.”
Almost as if on cue, a pale light climbed it’s way through
the clouds and illuminated the morning sky. Belle watched in fascination, as
the soft white underbellies began to reflect the pale pink glory that was to
come. As more and more light crept slowly towards the sky, a round ball of
brilliant pink shone bright on the horizon. This pink was richer than pale, and
looked not much unlike the pinkest lemonade you have ever seen in your life.
Surrounding that glow of happiness was a ring of light purple joy. Together,
the happiness and joy grew and grew, till Belle was sure that the sun was mere
seconds from bursting through.
Then the bus went around a turn, past a hill, through a
toll, and when they emerged on the other side, the glory that was to be had
disappeared. Grey and blue clouds replaced it. Belle sighed happily, feeling
very lucky indeed to have even caught just a glimpse of what could have been.
Smiling she settled back in her seat, pulled out her computer, and began to
type.
The sun pours gently through the blinds, playing tricks with my eyes, gently cascading over my shoulder, casting dim outlines on the walls. All is ordered around me as I stand at my window, tenderly grooming the two vases that have been on my desk for the last two weeks.
They are a source of wonder, and delight, and peace. My hands brush over the violent red, tenderly pulling out the dead leaves, and petals that have gotten stuck in her stems. Arrogant is she, always clamoring to be ahead of the others. Next, my hands stray to the darling little yellows, speckled all throughout the vase. Unassuming are they, wanting nothing more than to bring light joy to my little corner of the universe. Next it's to the smaller vase. Flashes of pink spring up between long green leaves. These little beauties have last the longest, and have required very little care. Their main job is to support the dainty and elegant purple and white flowers. The poor things. They have long since reached their prime, and are now struggling to retain that youthful glow that they had but only a week ago. After I have tended to all the dead leaves, dispelling them so that those beautiful flowers left might shine undisturbed and undistracted by the browning leaves in their midst, I clean out each vase and let cool clean fresh water fill each one to just the right amount. Now my little flowers can rest happily, in their homes, refreshed, and ready to endure their final days. I shall be sad to see them go. 
Later on in the day, I find myself facing an equally fulfilling, though much more arduous task. Our little corner of the universe has been quite cluttered recently. I firmly believe that a cluttered space means a cluttered mind. Unwilling to live bear the unordered state of things for any longer, I set my hand to the great beast that it might be tamed. With an almost frantic pace I dashed from one end to the next, sorting things, cleaning things, putting things away. From an outsider view, it would seem that I was in some great rush. And indeed I was, for fear that the laziness of spirit (which so often creeps up unexpected, and just when you least would like it too) would suddenly rush upon me unexpected, and the mess that seemed to have seeped into ever corner (both of my mind and of my room) would never be sorted out. By God's grace, that laziness never same, and in His strength was I able to pursue my task to the end. Then, just as I was about to go out the door, and looking over the afternoon's work, it suddenly dawned on me...How much more ordered and well-taken care of would my mind, heart, and spirit be, if I applied the same rigor with which I cleaned my room and the same care with which I tended my flowers to my life and my pursuit of the Lord. To tenderly sort through each passage of scripture that I read with a care like no other. To meditate on God's word, and spend time, admiring the beauty of his creation. Or to attack the sin that is within me with all the might that God has placed in me (after all, without the vacuum, I would never have been able to clean the dirtiest parts of our room) with the same fervor as scrubbed at the stain on our sink. To rush about, attempting to right the wrongs that had been done in my heart (let it be known that in every "right" I do, I recognize as the Lord working in me, and no great feat of my own).It was with this thought in mind that I sat down to write this post before heading out to dinner.
And now I am thoroughly famished. :)
In which I tend flowers, clean my room, and hope to do the same with my heart, mind, and spirit
Posted on
Friday, October 7, 2011
Beauty should be effortless. Beauty isn't something you can put on with makeup. Beauty isn't how you look or what you wear. Beauty can't be sought after in a physical sense. We are not made more beautiful by adjusting our physical appearance in any way. When I refer to "beauty" I am, of course, speaking of true beauty.
The beauty of character. Beauty is possessing true character. Beauty is not perfect teeth; it's a joyful smile. Beauty is not a wrinkle-free face; it's a full soul laughter. Cultivating the soul, allowing the Lord to work his will in you each and every day, smiling at everyone you meet, inquiring after the well-being - and not just inquiring but showing interest in your fellow human being - of those around you. True beauty should be an overflowing of love, grace, peace, and joy, the kind that can only come from the Lord. True beauty should seem effortless.
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| To be lovely, to be genteel, to be reserved and yet friendly, to be bubbly and yet calm, to run harder than ever yet to know when to sit still, to speak when I have something important to say and hold my tongue when I do not. to strive and yet to depend, to be vivacious and yet posses a quiet spirit, This is to be a lady. This is what I desire. |
In which I speak of beauty in a way that seems very disconnected, and non-sensical and yet makes perfect sense to me
Posted on
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Conversations in the car are always much more informative and thought provoking than expected... Something I concluded(ish).
Decisions are important and should be thought through carefully. Every actions produces a ripple effect through eternity. The question is, how should the ripple look. Every action we take has an eternal effect. But this is only half the picture. Not only are our actions the cause of an eternal (sometimes cosmic) ripple, but they are also the ripple flowing from someone else's action.Thoughts?
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| Losing myself has never been so wonderful. Shhhh, don't interrupt me. I'm in the middle of a very important conversation. |
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.
Qualification: In reference to one of my quotes. I would like to think (and for the most part I do believe) that I am above melting when a guy I like looks at me. However, I am not above smiling nervously, stumbling over my words, and tripping... constantly.
Qualification: I am suffering from none of these symptoms at the moment.
Qualification: I like to make qualifications. ;) :) (Qualifications that drive certain individuals crazy ;) :))
... which can be extremely trying, especially when you have three 90 minute classes to attend.
 |
| Luxury: To be buried in a scarf |
P.S. As you can tell, my blog is temporarily under construction. If you have an feedback, please do comment. :) <3
In which my mind is far off and I can't quite seem to get it back
Posted on
Thursday, September 22, 2011
My Dear Darling Rain,
You bring such joy to my life. You fill it with happy, and often unexpected, surprises. I appreciate the gentle behavior you have adapted these past few weeks. However, your behavior this evening was completely uncalled for. I'm sorry to say I have lost a great deal of respect for you. The way in which you soaked through my clothes and beat me till I was blue and shivering (and all in less than 15 seconds!) was in no way gentlemanly. I'm afraid my fasciation with you and my love for you has been quite lessened. You know how to make it up to me, and if you don't, you know very little about me.
After you have made amends I will be content to continue on as before. Until that moment, I will despise you greatly.
Your dearest,
Belle
P.S. I think it is commendable that you have reached out to help your dear, though often times despised, friend Mr. Wind, but please do keep him out of sight when I'm around.
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. :)
How
do I look?
You
look adorable.
Are
you sure? I mean don’t you think these earrings
would look better? Or maybe if I wore these shoes my thighs wouldn’t look as big.
Or maybe I just need to wear a different shirt? Or get new make-up or lose 10 pounds...
I do
have to say, the later part of this conversation usually only takes place in a
girl’s mind, but let me tell you, it does happen.
Guys,
this may annoy you or even frustrate you, but this is an issue so many girls struggle
with. No matter what we do, we are never beautiful enough. It doesn’t matter
what you say, or what you do, or how you look at us. Until the Lord gives us
peace about our physical appearance, we will never view ourselves as beautiful.
Recently,
the Lord freed me in an area of my life that I’ve been struggling with for
almost three and a half years. But two weeks ago I looked in the mirror and
thought, with complete sincereity, Wow, I really look ugly. I
looked no different than normal but I suddenly saw myself differently.
And
thus began the slow downhill progression toward selfishness.
It
was yesterday the Lord began convicting me.
Belle, why are you so worried
with how others view you? Don’t you know I made you beautiful? I made you exactly
how I wanted you to be.
When
I spoke with some dear friends about it, they echoed these words. As I was
praying for others, I found myself praising the Lord for the beauty that he had
created and sustained in the girls around me. Why do I so thoroughly believe God’s
truth applies to others but fail to apply it to myself? It was then that I
decided to do challenge myself.
The
Challenge: Don’t wear makeup from Monday to Friday
Let
me explain my decision. Makeup is lovely; makeup is not sinful. If used
correctly it can enhance your natural beauty. I enjoy makeup, but I can also
live without it. I’m not doing this because I’m obsessed with makeup. This
isn’t a fast from something that is central to my existence. Rather, this is a
simple step towards drawing my mind away from things I do that, in my mind,
make me pretty. It isn’t about what clothes I wear, or what makeup I put on, or
even what food I am seen eating. When it comes to beauty, all that matters is
my relationship with the Lord, and my spirit of contentment in Him.
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.
P.S. I seriously don't need affirmation. That certainly won't address the issue, and I would never want anyone to feel like they had to say something. So please, don't feel the need to tell me I look pretty. Affirmation is not the point of this experiment. :)
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| Oh, really? |
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| Fall is certainly upon us. What I wouldn't give for a lovely warm coat. :) |
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| Oh what joy it would be to lose myself in these books, reading for hours on end. |
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| Two things I love: red lipstick and old cameras..... Speaking of which, two dream items are a polaroid camera and a typewriter. |
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| Be pretty if you must.... |
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| 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.
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| Whimsical: playfully quaint or fanciful, especially in an appealing and amusing way (also capricious in behavior ;) :)) |
Sunday:
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| Loveliness |
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.
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| Reality |
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.
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| Whatever is lovely, that is what I seek |
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.
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| 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
In which my day is made and my soul bubbles over with a overwhelming joy!!
Posted on
Friday, September 9, 2011
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. :)
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| 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