tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58089882947625130652024-03-14T01:27:16.126-07:00I Ran Over A Homeschooler☼melodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17860709120967538243noreply@blogger.comBlogger82125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5808988294762513065.post-3318900967908318472011-06-08T21:02:00.000-07:002011-06-08T21:02:20.775-07:00New Beginning (Again?)<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Different seasons always bring an itch of change. (Especially when you start the Summer season with a photographic journey to Cali...) I don't know what it is, but the fresh air of a brand new season brings on an itch for the starting of something new. I am feeling so blessed to be a daughter of our creator, not needing a specific event to change, but the simple change of season is enough. A new beginning. A forgiving of the past, and a step towards a new self. The self I want to be. I have big goals for myself, and I believe the realization that there is always need for change, always need for small steps for growing-is one of the biggest steps to achieving those big huge "impossible" goals. Small steps, it's really all it takes.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But here I am. The beginning of Summer. Just back from the most inspirational trips of my entire life, and I am falling into the same old boring habits. Eating gross food too much (McDonald's, why do you exist on my menu of choice? Really? Sick.), spending too much time "getting inspired" on the internet rather than doing anything inspiring, spending too much money, and just overall being a lazy bum. Truth is, I am a daughter of the King. And lazy bum is not at all a representation of Him. So I was feeling the itch. And I started making lists of how to be better, and what to do better, and changes that need to be made. But I kept on making excuses as to why they were "unreachable" for the time (like not having attractive running shoes. Really, Melodie? Who are you?) and big excuses to start "later on". </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Today I woke up with a HUGE itch. Goodness, can't I just get things done? I was feeling overwhelmed by the lazy pit I was living in and needed a big huge change. So I did my first run today. 1.64mi in 21min. And I was dang proud when I heard the robot voice say, "You've reached one mile" over my headphones, even if it took me 13 minutes of "running" to get there. I was dang proud. I got home, and read. Studied my Bible. Wrote. Spent time with my little brother. Then I went to work. And when I was done with work, I came home. And here I am writing a blog. And I'm about to head to handy-dandy youtube in order to get some piano lessons going as well. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I've been stuck on James 1. The part where it instructs us to be ACTIVELY LIVING the Word, rather than simply knowing it. I do not wish to be a woman who forgets my appearance directly after I have seen it. I want to be living in Christ's name, representing His huge self through every bit of me. I don't want to sit in a lazy pit. But I want to live as I have been claiming to live for the past few months. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Decisions should start to be made. Creativity should pour from my pores.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And Arcade Fire's Wake Up anthem is going to be my theme song for the last stretch of my run for a very long time.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Hello world, I'm awake again.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Where is the Summer bringing you?</span>☼melodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17860709120967538243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5808988294762513065.post-10693616115846419352011-06-01T10:37:00.000-07:002011-06-01T10:46:57.256-07:00A Really Big Adventure.I promised a few weekends ago a post that I was unable to post due to last minute planning and being entirely myself. This is that blog and then some.<br />
<br />
If you have been keeping up with me, I have been talking a lot about something called A Really Big Adventure. I'm going to start at the very beginning, and go to the very end, explaining this adventure to you all.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-q8HdK6ImxR8/TeZ41hnS-3I/AAAAAAAAAZ0/A2lYLeU6OFI/s1600/blogimage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="182" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-q8HdK6ImxR8/TeZ41hnS-3I/AAAAAAAAAZ0/A2lYLeU6OFI/s400/blogimage.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Last Christmas, Chris gifted me with a gallery. He chose the place (which is stunning, and beyond perfection), and allowed me to choose the date. I chose October (Don't worry, more information will be coming out about the gallery in the future).<br />
Then began the process of what to shoot. I first began this process of all these inspiring people, and how I would shoot them and what I would make it look like, etc. But I got ahead of myself, and was very quickly forgetting the heart behind it. I sat down, readjusted my thinkers, and allowed myself to clearly think of the things that I wanted to show as my individual self for this gallery.<br />
Something kept sticking out to me, but I just kept shoving it back. It was "impossible".<br />
My idea was to take a big group of friends, drive to California, rent a VW van, drive up the coast together, camping along the way. I've always loved travel and road trips. I desire community within the groups of people I know. I belong behind a camera, shooting things that I love and am passionate about. My desire was for raw community. The bringing together of souls that are meant to live in joy. The chance to create real emotion and creativity and passion and desire and depth. To live by community for nine days, bringing us all closer and closer to a common goal.<br />
One day, I was venting to Chris about all of my ideas and he quickly shut down the idea that this could be impossible. He told me to sit and look at things practically, and I may find they are not as hard.<br />
So I did.<br />
<br />
And I found exactly what he said I would find.<br />
This wasn't going to be as hard as I thought.<br />
<br />
I brought up the idea to my Mom first, and she didn't completely oppose to the thought. Which is always a good sign. I brought it up to my Dad, and he didn't mind the thought either.<br />
So I kept digging deeper. I sent out invitations to a large group of people I wanted to come. 9 people ended up coming to the meeting, and I was encouraged by the responses.<br />
7 people (including Chris and myself) committed to coming.<br />
We hit a bump in the road, and were unable to get the car we wanted, or the VW van.<br />
Chris's parents agreed to letting us borrow their van.<br />
We booked reservations. We budgeted for over and above.<br />
We bought multiple packs of film for all our cameras.<br />
And soon it was the night before the trip and I was packing my bag and I realized that this was real. My dream was coming true.<br />
<br />
But I'm getting ahead of myself, I haven't even barely told you what it was.<br />
A Really Big Adventure quick logistics overview-<br />
Over 3,000 miles.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9eeMEenhfC4/TeZ6bo4biOI/AAAAAAAAAZ4/DZG7IbJmJfg/s1600/adbf9af2f9ab4bb5aea7c87bb1abc551_7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9eeMEenhfC4/TeZ6bo4biOI/AAAAAAAAAZ4/DZG7IbJmJfg/s400/adbf9af2f9ab4bb5aea7c87bb1abc551_7.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
From Colorado Springs, to Santa Monica, up the coast to Napa Valley, and all the way back. In an old Honda Odyssey van that fits exactly seven people and barely enough room for bags, sleeping bags, tent supplies, food, and all the other things people bring on trips.<br />
9 days.<br />
Tent camping for 5 nights, a hostel for 2.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hOHB85LTws4/TeZ6ynbBJVI/AAAAAAAAAaA/bkV6DVkJfdg/s1600/daf63f98a42040b785567093fde542d2_7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hOHB85LTws4/TeZ6ynbBJVI/AAAAAAAAAaA/bkV6DVkJfdg/s400/daf63f98a42040b785567093fde542d2_7.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
7 passionate people.<br />
People I specifically chose, and that specifically chose this trip. 5 girls. 2 guys.<br />
6 different cameras.<br />
Canon 5d Markii. Instax wide. Instax mini. 360 spinner. Polaroid Land Camera. Canon AE-1. (and don't forget iPhones.)<br />
<br />
Although this trip may be able to summed up in quick logistics, it is not at all what this trip was to me.<br />
A Really Big Adventure was my little girl dreams coming true. The people that were involved have the biggest hearts I have seen. I have shared so many laughs, so many smiles, and been able to be a part of so many beautiful hearts for nine entire days.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Sb_doNhj96A/TeZ7CGcJz5I/AAAAAAAAAaE/AoHAYIPSwjU/s1600/6cd6ef5495d0420b8cf36cd8ff4f55ba_7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Sb_doNhj96A/TeZ7CGcJz5I/AAAAAAAAAaE/AoHAYIPSwjU/s400/6cd6ef5495d0420b8cf36cd8ff4f55ba_7.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
It is crazy to me to think that in nine days I have been through six different states, camped on a beach, climbed a cliff, trespassed a little, ate the most beautiful food, been to my first MoMA, rode my first cable car and bus, saw quite a few skunks, shot photos by the ocean, on a dock, in tents, and much more. The best part is that this trip was not about me, but about the opportunity to care for other people. To see depth inside of them and capture it in many poses and/or candid moments. I am filled to the brim with desire to see these people go far. Filled with intensity to create. Filled with the fulfillment of dreams coming true.<br />
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Words cannot yet describe.<br />
Be on the lookout for smaller posts about smaller situations. This trip is lingering in the depths of my heart and I am so glad to say we did it. And we did it together.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LZKLZBYU_8k/TeZ6ozN1FCI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/ICQT5-IWJOA/s1600/36f30bc157cc4039aa81421a801aac17_7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LZKLZBYU_8k/TeZ6ozN1FCI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/ICQT5-IWJOA/s400/36f30bc157cc4039aa81421a801aac17_7.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>☼melodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17860709120967538243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5808988294762513065.post-79227660112815666932011-05-19T10:47:00.000-07:002011-05-19T11:01:54.559-07:00It seems like I blog most when I'm trying not to blog. And when I make it a goal to blog more, I go a long amount of time posting nothing. Forgive me, I'm not used to having the role of a "blogger".<br />
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As far as fashion goes, I feel like I've been dressing more how I want to, rather than the grungiest jeans and t-shirt I can find. More dresses, etc.<br />
Chris has become quite the great shopper lately too. Here's a couple photos from our date the other day.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OBuypas-hnM/TdVXXUnlVgI/AAAAAAAAAZs/tBVIULKGMtM/s1600/tumblr_ll2gacaMiH1qbof49o1_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OBuypas-hnM/TdVXXUnlVgI/AAAAAAAAAZs/tBVIULKGMtM/s400/tumblr_ll2gacaMiH1qbof49o1_1280.jpg" width="400" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ffqGlzyFmc/TdVXYh4UW0I/AAAAAAAAAZw/PSziAAkzXmo/s1600/tumblr_ll2hb2gCcA1qbof49o1_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ffqGlzyFmc/TdVXYh4UW0I/AAAAAAAAAZw/PSziAAkzXmo/s400/tumblr_ll2hb2gCcA1qbof49o1_1280.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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Some things have been hitting home lately. I've been diving deep into who I am as a person, and the things I am longing to live out. I'm taking chances, and trying new things. But at the same time I am soaking up the bits of life that are average and normal. Trying to get into the swing of things as a person, and fall in love with average again. Ya know?<br />
<br />
Just wanted to share a post about a song that I love.<br />
It's called "Walk Through Hell" by Say Anything. I first heard this song years ago, from a dear friend, and have forever loved it. Whenever it comes on I belt out the words, and can't help but sing it for hours after I've heard the song.<br />
Today, as it came through my shuffled iPod, and as I was belting out every single word by heart, I pondered why this song has always, and will always, be a favorite of mine.<br />
I mean, really, it gives me <i>goosebumps</i>. All it is is another silly love song!!<br />
<br />
But as I was singing the words of a man wanting to redeem the woman he loves from the "empty little dreams" of people around her, I realized the story that it is saying to my soul.<br />
This is a story of Jesus Christ. He went through what we could call hell in order to <i>save us</i>. He said to us that his soles are useless without us, so He would walk through hell for us.<br />
<br />
Okay. Maybe it's a cheesy way to look at the song. I know some people don't like taking "secular" music and turning them into Christian ones. But if you see the depth of this song, and it's entirety, there's a story we don't even understand there. This girl in the song is longing to be saved, even if she doesn't know it yet. This man in the song is desperate for her attention, begging for her to come back to him, to the person she was made to be.<br />
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If you haven't heard it, give it a listen.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/MXNxsWTNHM8" width="425"></iframe><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>p.s. be on the lookout for another blog post this weekend about a magical adventure I will be embarking on!</i></span>☼melodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17860709120967538243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5808988294762513065.post-13991603567116836642011-04-28T21:24:00.000-07:002011-04-28T21:37:48.388-07:00<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">I'm not doing very well on this whole blogging thing, am I?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">I have a lot of things on my mind, so I'm just going to go for it to get them out of my head before I can sleep. They're not bad things, but simply things that I will continue thinking "I should have blogged/written about (insert topic)" so much so that I can't sleep.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">To begin, an "outfit post". I know you might not like me for this, because it's a mirror picture I took before I went out. I could say something like, "I didn't have time" or whatever. But the truth is I was a little embarrassed. It's hard to get back in the self-portrait game. Especially when this time it's all about what I'm looking like.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YnKYeqoQC54/Tbo59yfKT9I/AAAAAAAAAZc/HvUTW2KTOLs/s1600/photo-2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YnKYeqoQC54/Tbo59yfKT9I/AAAAAAAAAZc/HvUTW2KTOLs/s640/photo-2.JPG" width="476" /></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">coat-thrifted, sweater- sister's closet, shirt- Charlotte Russe (I think...), pants- sister's closet, shoes- Goodwill</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">I also got a haircut with Christopher at Floyd's the other day. If you live anywhere near a Floyd's, go. It's such a fun experience. Especially when a haircut is made into a date night!!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">School has four days left. It'll be nice to say I have a year of college under my belt at sixteen, but at the same time, has it done anything for me except make me tired and cranky? I'm not sure what it is I'm expected to learn, but I'm still waiting around for it with open arms. Maybe it is simply to learn about the human lives around me, and the insanity some of them have instilled in their brains as truth. Who knows.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Christopher made our first reservation for A Really Big Adventure tonight. I almost cried. When all this began, it was just a silly idea I would do "someday". But it is here and now and beyond real. I am so excited for all the things to come.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Speaking of our adventure, we're going to California. And before I go, these swimsuits are calling my name a little.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">(click photos for link)</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.unique-vintage.com/sale-esther-williams-vintage-swimsuit-style-black-pink-retro-floral-print-bikini-p-9404.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4soHLkyMf3w/Tbo8DVoHrsI/AAAAAAAAAZg/ueXPGmFflEQ/s400/16488bodice.jpg" width="266" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.unique-vintage.com/sale-esther-williams-vintage-swimsuit-style-black-pink-retro-floral-print-bikini-p-9404.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-e10kZrwYLWQ/Tbo8wQA4DWI/AAAAAAAAAZk/eE5O7ByqMvc/s400/5375-1.jpg" width="280" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Anyone know of any place to find really great vintage style swimsuits? I want something super cute, and a little more modest than what you can find in a lot of store these days! :)</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">On a whole 'nother note, Chris showed me </span><a href="http://www.fubiz.net/2011/04/28/rainbow-gathering/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">this</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"> series that is inspiring me in so many ways.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">I've been thinking about all the things we overlook, and the things we once called "special" that turn into norms. I remember the first time I took pictures, and the thrill it gave me to take one that I thought was just really good. I remember how excited and passionate I was to be taking these pictures! But now- I often look over it, and don't think twice. It's habit and routine. It's such a wake-up call to be seeing that something that is so close to my heart and being becoming something so mundane and routine. I'm going to be doing this for the rest of my life.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">So, it's my goal to go back to the beginning. Remember where I was. How excited and open I was to learn and try new things. I want to open up, and try new things with new people. I want to strip down my life to the basics. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">The series above reminded me of the simple joys and beauty in life. Calling to my inner hippy again. I want peace and joy, not this continual strife to get through "another damn day". Life needs a bit of waking up, I'd say. Life needs a little bit of living. I want to be a person that encourages that, and lives it out herself. I encourage you all to remember the beginning and start of something that you love and adored, and has now become simple and mundane. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Passion, is what it is. I'm pushing myself to just take some time to live and breath it.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div>☼melodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17860709120967538243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5808988294762513065.post-4957712185849655802011-04-23T20:20:00.000-07:002011-04-23T20:22:28.900-07:00Today I Am AliveToday I am alive.<br />
Oxygen enters into my lungs.<br />
Blood pumps throughout my veins.<br />
A head on my chest, or a finger on my wrist can assure that my heart is beating.<br />
<br />
Today I am alive.<br />
My smiles are because of the beauty I live for.<br />
My aching legs and feet are those of many new steps.<br />
My blinking eyes are tired, but refuse to close completely until my work here is finished.<br />
<br />
Today I am alive.<br />
Who do I want to be?<br />
I want to be joy.<br />
I want to be love.<br />
I want to be kindness.<br />
I want to cherish.<br />
I want to hope.<br />
I want to be peaceful.<br />
I want to respect.<br />
I want to lead.<br />
I want to let go.<br />
I want to be.<br />
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Today I am alive. And it is resounding to depths of me I have not seen before.<br />
<br />
Today I am alive.<br />
What am I living?<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/czYT8tKJUP8?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>☼melodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17860709120967538243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5808988294762513065.post-9450176197927739452011-04-22T22:27:00.000-07:002011-04-22T22:37:14.103-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Ai0tX5ip4d0/TbJZ6oI_ZRI/AAAAAAAAAY4/Z5N5xAFF6mM/s1600/3b367b7e1dd1473eb01c8dc428a574d5_7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
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</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Today has felt overwhelmingly long. I'm not sure what's going on, because I slept in until almost ten, cuddled and worked with my partner and boyfriend, worked for four hours, and spent time with Christopher, Taylor, and my dear sister Nikki. Who knows? </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">I was planning on making my next blog an outfit post, but since I was in pajamas and work clothes all day, I decided against that. So I'm going to start this "blog remix" with a few things that have truly inspired me lately. Something about the springy/summery time seems to really bring out the hippy in me. Can't wait for this wind to die down in the area, so I don't have to wear a thousand layers just to stay warm.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tOxvcAz7RxI/TbJbUwY9RaI/AAAAAAAAAY8/tEb9R8rN_Yg/s1600/4351843177_a976d88303_z.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tOxvcAz7RxI/TbJbUwY9RaI/AAAAAAAAAY8/tEb9R8rN_Yg/s1600/4351843177_a976d88303_z.jpg" /></span></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/aestivated/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">(source)</span></a></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DpNU5C8gf3s/TbJbqY2SGwI/AAAAAAAAAZA/OVw7gXJwxJ0/s1600/tumblr_liac6g3UaC1qi4imno1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DpNU5C8gf3s/TbJbqY2SGwI/AAAAAAAAAZA/OVw7gXJwxJ0/s1600/tumblr_liac6g3UaC1qi4imno1_500.jpg" /></span></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">(I don't have the original source photo, and can't seem to find it anywhere! If anyone has it, please share!</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">I want my hair to look like this. For real. I plan on doing it in the near future.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gLKAhHfF6uY/TbJefnDZ_-I/AAAAAAAAAZE/kvUW1zeBqHA/s1600/1218548_11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gLKAhHfF6uY/TbJefnDZ_-I/AAAAAAAAAZE/kvUW1zeBqHA/s640/1218548_11.jpg" width="480" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><a href="http://lookbook.nu/look/1824778-The-shock-of-the-lightning"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">(source)</span></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">This outfit is so cute and Summery!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gSADKez9ZNE/TbJfMVe0GPI/AAAAAAAAAZI/dnqWStDt86o/s1600/tumblr_ljvh0xCoId1qi19w2o1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gSADKez9ZNE/TbJfMVe0GPI/AAAAAAAAAZI/dnqWStDt86o/s1600/tumblr_ljvh0xCoId1qi19w2o1_500.jpg" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><a href="http://westernfeelings.tumblr.com/post/4731685951/cooool-bedroom"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">(source)</span></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RRrlif7z-Qs/TbJfio1nhqI/AAAAAAAAAZM/D79k0KdfjWI/s1600/bi_splash.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RRrlif7z-Qs/TbJfio1nhqI/AAAAAAAAAZM/D79k0KdfjWI/s640/bi_splash.gif" width="640" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><a href="http://boniver.org/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">(source)</span></a></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">I have ants in my pants for this date. I cannot wait.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fFicSapm-Yw/TbJgEvINj-I/AAAAAAAAAZQ/5xsppeh4neQ/s1600/02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><img border="0" height="427" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fFicSapm-Yw/TbJgEvINj-I/AAAAAAAAAZQ/5xsppeh4neQ/s640/02.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><a href="http://www.chrismuellerphotography.com/blog/?p=634"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">(source)</span></a></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Christopher recently went to Canada with his best friend Taylor to shoot a wedding. Although I was unable to be there, I did get to see the beautiful pictures! Chris just got two rolls of film back from </span><a href="http://www.richardphotolab.com/index.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Richards Photo Lab</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"> and we both fell in love. What an incredible company!</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lcWHvuFIqwU/TbJk6Uc5SzI/AAAAAAAAAZY/CkJyC6ecFMk/s1600/1217720__.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lcWHvuFIqwU/TbJk6Uc5SzI/AAAAAAAAAZY/CkJyC6ecFMk/s640/1217720__.jpg" width="408" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><a href="http://lookbook.nu/look/1823348-Happy-Easter"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">(source)</span></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">These trousers are just too great!</span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
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</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Working at Starbucks has opened up so many doors to the little coffee nerd inside me. I love coffee, but not like I do now (Goodness! It has only been a week!). I'm already starting to feel the coffee snob in me come out.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Today, Chris gifted me with a new mug (always some of my very favorite gifts from him!), so we went a head and french pressed some Tribute Blend. We both drank it black. It's just too good not to share.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PMubX--MPhI/TbJhky40WEI/AAAAAAAAAZU/g5NX00XuLoQ/s1600/tribute_blend.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PMubX--MPhI/TbJhky40WEI/AAAAAAAAAZU/g5NX00XuLoQ/s1600/tribute_blend.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Today is Earth Day, and Good Friday.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">I hope we all get the chance to remember the one that not only died for us, but rose again for us. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. His name resounds in my achey soul tonight.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Good Night.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">(p.s. please forgive my awful template of the moment. I promise I'll work on getting on board with all the shweet things I can do to personalize it.)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>☼melodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17860709120967538243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5808988294762513065.post-86947106585530687152011-04-21T13:20:00.000-07:002011-04-21T13:22:06.790-07:00A Great Many ThingsI was reading a blog that quoted Little Women.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Jo March: <em>I find it poor logic to say that because women are good, women should vote. Men do not vote because they are good; they vote because they are male, and women should vote, not because we are angels and men are animals, but because we are human beings and citizens of this country.</em><br />
Mr. Mayer: <em>You should have been a lawyer, Miss March.</em><br />
Jo March: <em>I should have been a great many things, Mr. Mayer.</em><em><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><em>I should have been a great many things.</em></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I work at Starbucks. Yet I am also a photographer. I am a person of habit. Yet I am also a person of adventure. I am a person of security. Yet I am also a person who loves stepping out of her comfort zone. I am productive yet lazy, I am loud yet shy.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I am a great many things.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I have spent a lot of time, in this past year and more trying to be one thing. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">The girl that is quiet and reserved, laughs loud, wears hippy clothes from goodwill, and reads a lot. I have taken a lot of time to have the "role" and "look" of a photographer.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">But that's not who I am.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I am a great many things. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">And I do not want to be anything less.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gjZz32HVEiI/TbCRUTJ_YFI/AAAAAAAAAY0/Wz8M65ZT_Ks/s1600/_MG_9445.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gjZz32HVEiI/TbCRUTJ_YFI/AAAAAAAAAY0/Wz8M65ZT_Ks/s400/_MG_9445.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: 13px;">That being said, I want to act on every. single. one. of. my. passions.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: 13px;">If you know me deep, you know that I could spend hours on end browsing fashion blogs, "window shopping" online, and much more.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: 13px;">I. Like. Fashion.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: 13px;">This blog is going to get a little remix. Kind of in a huge way, but at the same time not really. My words will still be much the same. They will simply be more frequent.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: 13px;">I am going to start posting fashion things. Things that I wear, things that I find and adore of other people wearing, inspiration lists, and wanted lists. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: 13px;">I am going to post photography inspiration. I want to take photos more, and act on and share the photos that inspire me. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: 13px;">I want to be a <i>blogger.</i></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: 13px;">My blog will be a reflection of the great many things that I am.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: 13px;">Fashion. Photography. Words. Inspiration. Everything.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: 13px;">I don't really know where I'm going to go with it, or how it will end up, or what it will look like, but it's going to be something very different for me. I want to open up and let a light shine on all of the great many things that I am.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: 13px;">I am a great many things.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: 13px;">Get ready to know them.</span></span>☼melodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17860709120967538243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5808988294762513065.post-26860643565841792452011-03-13T17:42:00.001-07:002011-03-13T17:43:34.629-07:00It's Been One Year.<div style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-zTRKIcMyuS0/TX1kqxxmxfI/AAAAAAAAAYw/lKQy4F5zOEE/s1600/doodles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="196" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-zTRKIcMyuS0/TX1kqxxmxfI/AAAAAAAAAYw/lKQy4F5zOEE/s320/doodles.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
I don't know what I was thinking when this began. All I remember was feeling like perfection must be met. I remember feeling like I had screwed up everything else, every relationship I had had before, that this one was going to be, <em>had to be</em>, perfect. We would sit down for a coffee date, intending only to sit and talk for hours on end, and I wouldn't know what to say because I had formed an idea in my head of who I had to be for him. Not in a weird, or extreme way. But I thought that maybe, just maybe, he had this expectation of me that I couldn't meet. So the words I spit out couldn't be spit out- they had to be a finished and full thought that opened up beautiful windows and doors and he would be precisely blown away by in a perfect sense that he just couldn't imagine his life without these brilliant things that were consistently spewing from my mouth.</div><div style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Good Lord, I was so selfish.</div><div style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">I was so intent on glorifying myself, that I had to be perfect for him because I was afraid that he would leave. I was afraid that if he saw how young I truly was, if he saw how naive I was, if he saw how wounded and broken I was, he wouldn't want to stick around. So I tried to be someone that I wasn't.<br />
And where did that bring us?<br />
Many silent treatments from me that were patiently forgiven every single time by this wonderful man.<br />
One day it hit me. This summer, we had gone to Jives for coffee, and it turned out a big mess because I just shut down. Like every time before. And we were mad and not talking when his Mom came to drive us home.<br />
I couldn't even look him in the face, I was so ashamed.<br />
And he stuck out his hand. And when I held it, he pulled me to him, and held me in his arms. No words were shared, but there was an understanding- I was so horribly sorry, and he had forgiven me. All I could think about was God's love. If someone here, on this Earth, could forgive me of this foolishness I was, and make me feel so forgiven and happy- how does God love me? </div><div style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">And since then, it has been a rocky road. A messy, beautiful, intentional rocky road. Chris has learned patience above all else- giving me time to open up and share. He has supported me in times that I was shy and timid. He held me when I was broken, and could handle no more defeat. He has taken my hand, and prayed over every date we've had. I know that he has warred for me in prayer, and I have done the same for him. He has taken on a lot of work in our business, because I don't have the knowledge or tools to currently do so. He has driven many miles to see me in (what I like to call) Kansas, even if sometimes it was just to drop of meds we didn't have, or food I was craving so badly.<br />
This guy. This man.</div><div style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Gosh, I wish that there were words to describe where we are now. The decision has been made, and we have chosen to walk closer to God, right by each other's side. Forever I am going to love this man.</div><div style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">I am incredibly proud to say that this man is who I love. I am proud to say that this man is my business partner. So proud that he is my best friend. My buddy. My mister. My Christopher.</div><div style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">And above all else, I know that forever he will be leading me and pushing and pulling me closer to Christ. It's what is most important to us, and we will never allow the other to grow stagnant. And that, there, is a beauty like none other.</div><div style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">I am blessed, truly blessed, by this man and the things that he has willingly done for me that others would do either begrudgingly or not do at all.<br />
I am madly in love with this man. In love with his Starbucks working, awful accent imitating, passionate picture taking, milk drinking, heart bigger than his own chest having, loud singing, simple loving, self. </div><div style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br />
</div>☼melodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17860709120967538243noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5808988294762513065.post-9247106992344496552011-02-17T21:04:00.000-08:002011-02-17T21:04:57.284-08:00Never Alone<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">There is something really big, and really special, about realizing you are not alone.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">A few nights ago I had a run in with long lost trauma. I spent my day alone, feeling crummy, and only isolated myself more. (</span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Oh, Melodie, haven't you learned this lesson yet?! That is forever a bad idea!</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">) In doing so, my mind wandered to places I have long since visited and it brought me to a dark, dark place.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">I texted and called one person that means the world to me. This person was dealing with some heart things, and knew, if anything, they would hurt me by attempting to be there for me. So they told me they needed to be alone.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Goodness, it hurt!! </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">So, I continued to text and call a few other close people in my life, simply stating, "I need prayer."</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">This then brought on many questions about my well-being, and heart, and the war Satan was trying to bring me into, and the only One who could bring me out of it-no matter how long or short it would take.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">At first, I was annoyed. I didn't want to hear any of this. It was really the last thing I wanted to hear. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">But it worked. Because with the prayers, my heart began to seek, as stated above, </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">the Only One who could fight this battle for me</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">. I began to draw nearer to Him, in actions simple as (slightly being forced, as well) asking my sister to stay the night with me.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">After this event, the "word" got "out" to my family, and they began to pull me closer to them, realizing I was hurting. Dear friends called me to their home, just to talk and talk and talk (and perhaps eat comfort food as well). Christopher held me and prayed with me for long amounts of time. And through all this, I realized the network of people I have in my life. When a friend asked how they can be praying for me, they actually wanted to know about my heart and soul.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Christ showed me (and is continuing to show me) that through Him, I am not alone.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Chris was just telling me tonight about his shifting perspective of community, that the reason we feel so connected to certain people is most often because we were (and still are) connected by the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">And no matter where we go, who we become, the battles we fight, the laugher we share,</span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"> no matter what</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">, </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">that connection does not go away</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Let me repeat that.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">The Christian friends we have, close or not really, we will have for the rest of our lives.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Because of the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">We believe in each other, because He first believed in us.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Moral of the story-</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">I have a lot of people that passionately care about my well-being (whether it be spiritual, physical, emotional, whatever). </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">I just have to let them know when I am in need, or when I kneeling in awe of our Father.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">We are not alone. There is never a moment when we are alone.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Sometimes, it's hard to see God in the face of danger. But I believe He puts community in our lives so that they will help us fall at His feet in desperation. That they will </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">prayerfully demand</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"> the lies out of hearts and minds so that we can </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">clearly</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"> see the face of God.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Never in our lives are we alone. Not only because the Holy Spirit is always in us.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">But because we have </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">a community</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">, </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">a network</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">, </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">a family</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">, that is </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">much</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"> bigger than we can even </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">begin</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"> to comprehend.</span>☼melodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17860709120967538243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5808988294762513065.post-56973265520817521812011-01-23T20:38:00.000-08:002011-01-23T20:38:07.102-08:00Original<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Every single human being is completely and entirely original. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Although I may have eyes that look like my father's, and a nose that looks like my grandmother's, they're not the same.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">The fingerprints that dance across the tips of my fingers are like no others.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">The hair that encompasses my head is counted to an amount that is not the same as others. It waves and curls and stands to great heights like no one else's. The thickness and weight of each strand cannot match up to anyone's. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">The color of my eyes is brown. But inside this simple brown, dark brown shapes and patterns give them life like no one else's. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">My long legs may stand the same height as someone's, but they are shaped entirely different than that same person.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">The veins that hold my blood, the heart that holds my life, the brain that holds my every thought, that place behind my belly button that holds the people I love, is nothing like the next person, or the next, or the next.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">There is nothing new under the sun.</span></i><br />
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Except for me.</span></b><br />
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">And for you. And you. And you. And you.</span></b>☼melodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17860709120967538243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5808988294762513065.post-12505020409729332822011-01-01T07:07:00.000-08:002011-01-01T07:52:26.992-08:00Deer In Head Lights Beginning<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6VBQwfGkqkw/TR9C8seLtoI/AAAAAAAAAYU/xdhQE1rDjhI/s1600/DSC_0836.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6VBQwfGkqkw/TR9C8seLtoI/AAAAAAAAAYU/xdhQE1rDjhI/s400/DSC_0836.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">It's exactly fifty nine minutes into the New Year as I begin this, and I feel like a deer shocked and hypnotized into the headlights of an oncoming car.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Except the car has hit, and I didn't feel a thing, and I'm still staring blank eyed and blank brained at absolutely nothing but something that has already come.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Goodness, it is 2011.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">My goals for next year are not to lose weight, or work out, or be a better person. My goals have yet to be written. Perhaps, I will choose to make goals as the year goes on (because, well, it's not that important to me to make them on the New Year). But what do I have in mind? </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">An assortment of words to myself:</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">There is no one like you. There is no one like Him. Trust that, and believe that. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">At the beginning of this year, you placed God entirely first. You spent each and every day seeking Him. You thrust your arms toward Him, and begged for Him to hold You. And He did. Oh, how He did.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">You took a leap of faith, even taking the time to question if dating was an option. That was a leap. And God caught you. Keep leaping, Mel. Keep seeking and begging for Him. Because He is entirely there, and entirely loving.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Winter was beautiful, and Summer and Spring and the beginning of Fall brought new things. You were challenged beyond your comfort zone. Words of advice? Take chances. Don't let a person become who you depend on. Let your heart do the talking.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Stephanie moved out, and it was hard for you. You did everything you could to just be normal again, but you were forcing things to be like it was when she was there. And it was just too hard, so you gave up. You gave up on a lot of things in this past year, stop doing that. Remember how you look back on those things and wish you would have done something different. Remember that that's not easy. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Along with that, make people a priority. You claim to hate people, but you are entirely fascinated by the hearts and minds of those around you. Go out of your comfort zone, and ask one person to coffee a week. Your passion is people and you know it. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">You also started school this year. And when it began, you were so excited and refreshed and pumped about finally getting back into things. But as the year went on, you lost your excitement. And you ended up with just barely passing your classes. You are passionate about learning. Do your homework. Don't lose that excitement. Don't miss classes. And love a couple strangers. This coming semester and year is going to be much harder than the first one. Embrace it, and love it.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Near the end of the year, you lost sight of a couple things. Your path went a little wobbly down a path that you didn't intend to be on. Encourage yourself to set your focus on the only One that is worthy. Let your goals and passions and risks and questions and hurts and confusion and everything else lie in the hands of the only One who knows you. The only One who knows who you are meant to be. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Set your eyes on Him. Continually zoom out and get a better focus.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Don't ever stop shooting. Photography is something that has unveiled more emotions for you than anything else. You have been able to see the hearts of many from this gift God has given you. Shoot a trillion times more than you did last year. Don't be afraid, just keep shooting. This is important. This is just as important as this blog, and every single journal entry.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">It is your outlet. Don't ever be too scared.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">And last but not least, live. Live in your passions. Live in your questions. Live in your life. There is nothing more beautiful than the path God has already planned for you. Be confident. Stop shying behind people because they overwhelm you. Be overwhelming. Overwhelm yourself. Let love win. Let your heart outside of your skin. Wear it on your sleeve at times, and others guard it with all you are. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Your heart, your mind, your soul, your body, are beautiful. All your bits and pieces that don't seem to match up, well, they do. Find it. And be beautiful. Let yourself be full. Because that is how God wants you to live.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Live it up this year. Live it up glorifying Christ. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">In the words of Katy Perry, whose song I have had stuck in my head since midnight last night, </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Baby, you're a firework.</span>☼melodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17860709120967538243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5808988294762513065.post-35379945472164127172010-12-27T21:21:00.000-08:002010-12-27T21:31:29.499-08:00Ordained Our Mouths With PraiseA few jumbled thoughts this evening that I will attempt to bring order to in a few short minutes because I am tired.<br />
<br />
<b>Disclaimer: This thought may not be finished, or complete, or polished with a big shiny red bow on top. So please, allow me to use this for my own learning experience, and if you'd like to continue with me, brace yourself.</b><br />
<br />
This past Sunday, Barry talked about John 1:1-2. He broke it down word for word.<br />
And spent (what felt like to me) the majority of the time speaking about the word, word.<br />
In Hebrew, word is logos. Words were not just words, they were a happening. An event. Something that could not be flippant, or taken back. Words were meant to be said with entire meaning. And they were only said with complete meaning.<br />
In Greek, the word word is also logos. But to the Greek people, words were something that were ultimate truth and knowledge. In Genesis 1, we see many examples of God using words to make things happen. Words, to Greek people, were ultimate knowledge because God used them to create. To begin it all.<br />
Around the time Barry was talking about the Hebrew meaning of the word "word", Chris leaned over to me and said, "I want to think about words like that. I want to use my words like that."<br />
I nodded my head in agreement, and it's been stirring in my head.<br />
If anyone knows me, I use a lot of "I dunno"s "I don't care"s and "I'm fine"s. I've been holding people back from fulling loving me by using these phrases, that don't let people in and push them away. (Goodness. I have had this conversation 14 too many times, and I have yet to beat it into my foolish brain. I am also currently learning about my pride and stubbornness. People have to have a lot of patience with me as of late.)<br />
I'm so afraid of failure, I'd rather not do it.<br />
That's my mindset.<br />
(Again, back to that beating into my foolish brain. But I'm getting off track.)<br />
<br />
Today, a Spontaneous Song by Kim Walker-Smith played over my iPod. And I heard these words:<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">You have ordained our mouths with praise.</span><br />
<br />
Ordained.<br />
Meaning<br />
1. To confer holy orders upon.<br />
2. to decree, or give orders for.<br />
3. to destine or predestine.<br />
<br />
We have been given holy orders, we have been decreed, we have been predestined, <b>with our mouths</b>. <b>To praise</b>. <b>Him.</b><br />
<br />
Our mouths.<br />
Yahweh. Already our breath praises Him.<br />
Our mouths, the words that we speak, should praise Him.<br />
Each and every one.<br />
<br />
Going back to Barry's message,<br />
Each of our words should hold weight and meaning that even we cannot comprehend. The words we say should not need to be taken back. The words we speak are happenings.<br />
<br />
<i>He has ordained our mouths with praise</i>.<br />
<br />
Oh, how I <i>long</i> and <i>desire</i> for my words to <i>praise</i> and <i>glorify</i> Him. I long to stop my flippant insults, and take them quickly back with a "just kidding" or "I didn't mean that". I want my words to hold weight and meaning and specificity.<br />
Because He has ordained it.☼melodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17860709120967538243noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5808988294762513065.post-51436608084081455142010-12-17T22:04:00.000-08:002010-12-17T22:05:09.581-08:00Impact<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: url(http://www.tumblr.com/images/input_bg.gif); background-origin: initial; background-position: 50% 0%; background-repeat: repeat no-repeat; color: black; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.4; margin-bottom: 8px; margin-left: 12px; margin-right: 12px; margin-top: 8px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6VBQwfGkqkw/TQxO5f94chI/AAAAAAAAAYM/vB4uBOUqRbU/s1600/IMG_7576.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6VBQwfGkqkw/TQxO5f94chI/AAAAAAAAAYM/vB4uBOUqRbU/s400/IMG_7576.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
I am learning that I have impact.<br />
I am learning that I am more than this seemingly wretched human form I am trapped in.<br />
I am learning that the small things matter.<br />
I am learning that I love the simple.<br />
My heart breaks for those who are breaking, and never once have I stopped to show them that they are not alone.<br />
My heart loves for those who are unloved, and yet my life does not reflect that a single bit.<br />
My heart reaches out to those who are suffering, and never once have I told them about the hope that they can have.<br />
<br />
Who am I to take on the role of Christ?<br />
No matter how I try, I cannot save those who need saving. I cannot love unconditionally. My heart cannot hold the lives of everyone I come in contact with.<br />
<br />
But what can I do?<br />
I can share. I can share Him. I can share Him through the way that I do love, the way that I show some they are not alone, the way that I live my daily life.<br />
<br />
I have impact. The small and simple mean something. Always.<br />
I am making life changes. Not because the new year is coming, not because of some epiphany, not because I am dying and need a change. But simply, because Christ is calling me to be more than I am now.<br />
I have impact.<br />
<em>We all have impact. </em><br />
<em>It's time we lived like it.</em></div>☼melodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17860709120967538243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5808988294762513065.post-26700375995385018352010-12-13T06:41:00.000-08:002010-12-13T06:41:07.797-08:00Longing For Purpose<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have been longing to simply find the meaning. What is the purpose of school madness? Of silly fights? Of busy schedules?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It's all been something that has rattled around in my brain because I feel like, if anything, I have been hindered in my relationships with others, and my relationship with God. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But who am I to measure the worth of the things I am doing?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was considering not going back to school. I was considering that it wasn't worth it, and it wasn't teaching me anything I didn't know. "It was putting me in a box."</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">How arrogant. How silly of me to think that I am the exception.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have been toying with this thought, and pondering why it is even there. There are a lot of times in my life where I have considered myself the exception. I don't have to go to school, because it doesn't do anything for me. I don't have to be intentional with relationships, because they should be intentional with me. I don't have to clean my room, because it's just going to get messy again. I don't have to do things I don't like because I don't deserve that. I don't have to obey my parents because I know what I'm doing.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Do you see how this thought can continue on down a path of destruction?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The truth is-I am not the exception. I never have been. I need education, I need to learn to be clean, I need to obey my parents, I need community even I have to be the one initiating it, I need to do things I don't like because that is life, and that is how I will learn.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">These things have been placed in my life for purpose. To teach me, to push me out of my comfort zone, and learn to do everything I do for His glory, and not my own.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Do you know what goes along with believing I am the exception?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Sin.</span><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have believed that I am the exception to sin because He has already forgiven me</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I could not be more foolish, and my heart has broken over realizing this thought has sat in my head for the past 16 years of my life. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">God did not forgive and redeem so that I may live as I want.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He did, so that I may live freely within His teachings. That I may live freely in His word.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He longs to give me my life. He longs to give me a life of freedom. He longs to give me everything that He wants for me.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But when I look at it as "I can sin whenever I want, because He already forgave me"...</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I don't even have words for how foolish I have been.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He forgave and redeemed for His glory, not my own.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My heart breaks, because I have not been living in love. In life. In His will for me.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Oh, what a world He chooses to love...</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The purpose, the meaning to all of this,</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">is Him.</span>☼melodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17860709120967538243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5808988294762513065.post-87375471054973804592010-12-09T14:03:00.000-08:002010-12-09T14:03:38.245-08:00Something That I Long To Share<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">There is something that I long to share.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">There is something that stirs inside my soul that longs to burst forth, so that everyone may know.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">There is something there.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Words cannot describe.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Eyes cannot see.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Ears cannot hear.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Only hearts can feel.</span></i><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">This thing, </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">This something.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">It's Joy.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And although, like I said, words cannot describe, I am going to do the best that I can.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">It is as if every moment is a changing season. It's just like when Winter has been here for so long, and Spring finally comes. Feel, inside your soul, that beginning. That refreshing, recharging state of mind.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">It is as if every moment is the reaching the top of the tallest mountain you have climbed. You stand there, at the top, and look down on the paths you have taken to get there. No matter how many bumps and bruises you have gotten, you are now on top of the world.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">It is as if every moment is that first moment you hold a baby. No matter how alien-like they still look, newborn babies, when they smile so wide, cause stirring in hearts. Their eyes holding onto everything new, their fingers grasping anything they can touch. As if every moment is new life.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">It is as if every moment is the moment when someone saved you from the wretched place you were in. When you were beaten, and broken, and had no desire for anything anymore, and this person comes along, and pulls you from the ground. Your body jolts, and your head gets dizzy, but it feels so good to be back up. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">It is as if every moment is meeting a new person. A complete stranger, who tells you a story you never would have guessed they held. And you lock eyes, and know that this deep moment with this stranger will last in your heart forever.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">It is as if every moment is drinking an ice cold glass of water on a hot day, or finally curling under blankets on a freezing day.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">With the intensity of a hit funny bone, it grasps your soul. And your breath catches, and your eyes close, and everything seems different.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Because as soon as you see it-your world focuses on it.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I am overjoyed to tell you, that Christ IS joy. That He has overcome the world, for us. For me. For specifically you. He has come for us, and He has given us a hope.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">He has placed in us, </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">joy</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">When did we stop living like these words are true?</span>☼melodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17860709120967538243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5808988294762513065.post-14516219425159896832010-12-01T20:44:00.001-08:002010-12-01T20:47:05.589-08:00Ponderings<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">I just wrote out an entire blog and erased it, because it was going nothing like my brain is going right now.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">So, I'm going to write my brain.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">-Chris is home today. He was gone for five days, and has come back feeling refreshed. We both feel a stirring in our hearts to push each other more toward the path God has been planning for us. We've reached a time when things are really busy, and it's too easy to get caught up in the world. I am going to admit that first hand, because it happens to the best of us. I am so grateful for this man in my life, that encourages me in the things I love, and lifts me up when I'm down. I'm so thankful that he is here to uncloud my often cloudy vision.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">-Registered for classes. I am going to be really busy, and it's going to be hard. I'm going to want to give up at times, and allow myself to barely skim by. But this coming semester must be different. I have to see that everything I do, is for the glory of God. And what do I say about Him, and to Him, if I am just barely getting by? </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">-I love my family. My blood family, and those who are dear friends. I love to love. If that is one thing that I know, is that God loves me. And I know that there is no better feeling than to be loved. I long to share that with every person I know, because I dearly love each and every person. I love loving. God has recently tugged on my heart to love more. So, I am pulling those I love closer to me, so that they may know my love. And I pray, that I will be an example of His love. I long to love. My friends, my family, anyone I come in contact with.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Love. Unconditionally. Other-wordly. And dearly.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Always. It is in my heart, and in my mind, and I don't know where I would be without it. God saved me, with His love. He pulled from the bottom, with His love. God </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">is</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"> Love.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Love.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">-My room is freezing, and we need to get the plastic wrap stuff to go around my window.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">-I need to get myself a bank account, and start searching for a job.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">-Drink less coffee.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">-Thank you, Jesus, for this life I live.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">And for each person you have strategically placed in my life.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">-Thank you for my freedom from my chains.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">-Thank you for peaceful night's sleep.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">-I am passionate. About a lot of things.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">I need to begin actively seeking my passions, and running after them full force. I long to see more than I have ever seen. I long to write more passionately than before. I long to create things that are truly my heart and mind written out.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">I am a person of passion. I need to live as one.</span>☼melodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17860709120967538243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5808988294762513065.post-79049624470019155342010-11-23T20:20:00.000-08:002010-11-23T20:20:52.237-08:00Community<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When I think of community, it frightens me. I mean really, community? As in large groups of people all pretending to love on each other, but actually just trying to get out of things as much as they can? </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Not my idea of fun. Uck.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But digging deeper, and into the biblical version of community, we see something entirely different. In Acts (2:42-47, 4:32-37), we find everyone gathered together-they were eating together, growing in Christ together, and </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">every need was met</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">. In Romans 12:16, we find that He says, "Live in harmony with one another."Galatians 6:2 says, "Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ."</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But a Bible verse that I have come to love, and is entirely applicable, is 1 John 1:7,</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"But if we walk in the light, as He is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin."</span></b></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Do you hear this?</span></i><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I'm going to write it again.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"But if we walk in the light, as He is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin."</span></b></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We already have fellowship with each other, through Christ.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We all have one thing in common-God. The Holy Spirit lives inside us as Christians. Why would we not want to fellowship with one another? </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In 1 Corinthians 12, we find that each of us have our own gifts, that Christ has given each one of us. We also find that we, as Christians, are a body.</span><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A BODY.</span></i><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As in, this one guy is the shin, and this girl I know is a finger, and this other girl is the ear lobe, and this kid is the ankle bone.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We are all unique.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And as we all know, our bodies have about a </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">kajillion and one</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> different parts. But without one part, we wouldn't work right.</span><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A BODY.</span></i><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A KAJILLION +ONE PARTS.</span></i><br />
<i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">ALL WORKING TOGETHER.</span></b></i><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As in, this guy is really gifted with words, and this other girl is incredibly incredible at painting, and this other kid can memorize things like crazy and pretty much can quote the whole Bible, and this other gal is really talented at giving life to those in need.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">AND IF ONE OF THESE STOPPED DOING WHAT THEY ARE GOOD AT...</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">(I'm sure, if Taylor reads this next word, he will be amused.)</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">disfunction.</span></span></b></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We are meant to be a body. We are meant to do the things that Christ has instilled in us, with other people.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This means that I need other people. Because although I may connect with God by sight, someone else may connect with him by hearing, or playing, or drawing, or writing, or dancing, or singing.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My goal, as a human, a Christian, and a daughter of Christ, is to know God.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And although it will not ever happen,</span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I long to know all of God</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In order to know all of God, I need community to share with me the things they draw, sing, dance, play, hear. These people, in my life, were given to me so that my blinders will slowly be lifted from my eyes. And they will become less and less, and I will start seeing the big picture...</span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">of God</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So tonight, when asked about what being intentional with people means,</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I had to check my own intentions.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I had to bounce back to what God wants of me, and who I long to be.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And in an entirely biblical sense?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I long for community.</span>☼melodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17860709120967538243noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5808988294762513065.post-91157168865437504222010-11-21T20:44:00.000-08:002010-11-21T21:14:49.523-08:00Welcoming Back For Winter<div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;">It has been so long, since I've written a blog.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;">I didn't actually realize that I had stopped, it just happened, as if it's a normal step in life. (I guess, of course, everyone lags at one point or another. My lagging period was just a little bit longer than some.)</span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;">Winter is coming. Thanksgiving is almost here. Christmas is a little over a month away.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;">And I lay in my bed, with 7 blankets on me, and remember why Winter is so rough (excluding the fact that the inside of my home is colder than outside.). I remember why I needed blogging and excessive journaling, and creative brain flowing consistently through my house. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;">Because Winter is messy. Winter is the season that makes me want to throw my hair into a messy bun, and wear too small long-sleeved shirts with much too big jeans, and slipper socks, and stare out my window at the beautiful things God has given me. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;">But what else comes with Winter? Cold. Dark. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;">The trees pause to rest for many months. There aren't any flowers, with their colors reminding us about other life. Animals go into hiding, and the ones that don't turn to survival mode leaving carcasses strewn about in various hidden places. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;">And the cold air that falls down my throat, reminds me that too-warm will not be considered for a very long time.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;">Oh, gosh, my mind is so disastrous, I hardly remember my topic. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;">It's so hard to stay on track.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;">The main point.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;">My brain.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;">My brain does not want to pause like the trees. My brain longs to continue budding, producing beautiful colors, and plentiful fruit.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;">My brain does not want to be hold on hold for the messy, hard months of Winter. Even when storms come blustering in, I want to remember that I have shelter.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;">And so I believe I may start blogging again.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;">I need to begin picking up things I long for, that I strangely set down for too long.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;">I've begun a new journal, simply for inspiration and creative journaling. I've begun to crochet, and have decided I like it better than knitting. I'm listening to music that is good for my soul, and singing at the top of my lungs. I've begun covering myself with blankets, and spending time replenishing my soul with my family. I have begun to be intentional with people. I have begun to love people, rather than judge people. I made a list of goals for the next year of my life.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;">Oh, goodness.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;">The point.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;">The main point?</span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;">I have dropped things that I need, because sometimes I feel like maybe I am too much. I have stopped doing things that stir my heart strings, because maybe, I over-react about little things, and it really isn't that important.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;">I've been lying to myself.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;">And this? This is important.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;">I need this again.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;">And so, hello blog. Hello my dear friends, family, and various readers.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;">I'm returning again.</span></span></div>☼melodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17860709120967538243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5808988294762513065.post-30003908616275673662010-09-07T11:17:00.000-07:002010-09-07T12:24:10.408-07:00Why am I a photographer?Recently, I have been asked a few questions repeatedly-<div>What got you started in photography?</div><div>Do you want to do this forever?</div><div>and</div><div>Why are you a photographer?</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I am a photographer. My hand forms into the shape of holding a camera on a regular basis. I see better out of my left eye than my right eye, because it's the eye I shoot with. I sit back, and I watch and observe. When I am behind a camera, everything goes down to slow motion, and I can hear my heart beat, and see the smile and laughter of my client in a slow-motion movement.</div><div>It's beautiful. It's those black and white home videos of your grandparents you wish you could live. It's the part in a movie where you are about tojump from your seat because the problem was just resolved. It's the beat of your heartwhen you are enjoying a perfect day with the ones you love.</div><div>Photography, for me, is the body of a dancer, the voice of a singer, the hand muscles of a pianist, the pen of a writer. </div><div>Photography is simply....</div><div>it.</div><div><br /></div><div>When I was a freshman in high-school, I was doing online school. I wasn't allowed to see friends, I was home alone, and I had zero self-motivation.</div><div>One day, while on a walk, I noticed so many things-birds singing, trees dancing, bees buzzing. And I was thinking how beautiful it would be to capture this. This moment, when the world seems so still.</div><div>So, I brought out my parent's camera (that we were forbidden to use), and went on a walk. And I tried and tried to take a picture that moved me, shook me, and created a fullness in my heart.</div><div>But I'm not really much of a nature photographer. I couldn't get it...just right.</div><div>And then I thought to myself-what betterway to capture emotion, than to use the person that is feeling. So I grabbed my tripod, and found hidden places where I could set it up and take photos of myself without being absolutely embarrassed.</div><div>As time went on, I was feeling more. I had sad days,happy days, hard days, and easy days. And I found that the only time I felt truly connected with myself, God, and the world around me was when I was taking pictures. I wanted so badly to photograph others, but my family generally hates being in front of a camera and wouldn't do it.</div><div>So I learned to observe. I learned that it wasn't that hard to photograph the honesty of the moment-when the person had no idea they were being photographed. It became a competition, and struggle, and defeat, for me to take pictures of my family members that they didn't know about.</div><div>And each time...it kept getting better.</div><div>I bought myself my first (and so far my only) dslr. A Nikon D40. I was in love with it, and I didn't even know how to use it.</div><div>It became my best friend. It became what usedto be writing-my outlet for feelings. I used my photography to capture myself. Pictures such as these were the ones that meant the most to me.</div><div><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6VBQwfGkqkw/TIaEneKVLnI/AAAAAAAAAWI/kLFmkmu2868/s400/n1145454533_30199842_6376567.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514240607407910514" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 323px; " /><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6VBQwfGkqkw/TIaEn929ZLI/AAAAAAAAAWY/w8m-MiQJr9A/s400/6609_1120328245486_1145454533_30317221_7114789_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514240615916594354" /><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6VBQwfGkqkw/TIaEn-HxJiI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/juTv2ViIVlQ/s400/6609_1117641738325_1145454533_30310810_2843244_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514240615987095074" /></div><div>These images were who I was. Looking back on them, it breaks my heart because I was so broken, and I was so scared and I felt so alone. </div><div>My photography became the only thing I had. The only place that I could fully be myself, and not put on the face of- I am perfectly okay.</div><div>So to answer the question of how I started-I started because I needed to get out. I needed my innards to be placed out in the open, so that they would not burst from me. I needed to be myself for an hour or so of each day, so that I could be okay with not being okay.</div><div><br /></div><div>Soon after I felt myself "really starting to get good", Christopher came along. He added me on facebook, we talked all the time, he bought me a lens for Christmas (and brought it to me in a freaking blizzard!), and he soon taught me everything I needed to know about the manual functions of a camera. </div><div>My camera and I became even closer. I began to speak her language, so that my language would be spoken to those who saw my photos. My heart began to connect to her heart, and she was soon my only friend in my broken and confused world. </div><div>God was, by then, reshaping my life. And my heart was so caught up in the emotions, that I rarely paused to see how I was actually feeling. And it bothered me. So again, I picked up my camera. And although I stayed with self-portraits for awhile, I became comfortable in finding other things to express my feelings. Stephanie became a regular model. I was again capturing the emotions of my family, because restoration was beginning to happen. I started to find smiles on faces, because they were able to realize that they were stunning, pretty, beautiful, intricately created perfectly to how God intended. </div><div>And there was nothing more filling than that.</div><div>Chris and I began to shoot together. And it was overwhelming, and it was scary.</div><div>I was being pushed and shoved around for the sake of photos, and it felt good.</div><div>We have had good talks, bad talks, hard talks. But they've all come down to the fact of-our goal is to comfortably shoot, in our own styles and voices, together. </div><div>My favorite photos began to look like these-</div><div><br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6VBQwfGkqkw/TIaHrd00x8I/AAAAAAAAAWw/CTyf7FuUpGM/s1600/13543_1182360236247_1145454533_30467196_5188466_n.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6VBQwfGkqkw/TIaHrd00x8I/AAAAAAAAAWw/CTyf7FuUpGM/s400/13543_1182360236247_1145454533_30467196_5188466_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514243974572066754" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6VBQwfGkqkw/TIaHq-sGZ8I/AAAAAAAAAWo/DqfvbaV8OB0/s1600/21864_1210640103226_1145454533_30529694_7709316_n.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6VBQwfGkqkw/TIaHq-sGZ8I/AAAAAAAAAWo/DqfvbaV8OB0/s400/21864_1210640103226_1145454533_30529694_7709316_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514243966213973954" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6VBQwfGkqkw/TIaIVq5MZhI/AAAAAAAAAW4/XF2lrcIk3Jg/s1600/13543_1181258248698_1145454533_30464463_3072941_n.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6VBQwfGkqkw/TIaIVq5MZhI/AAAAAAAAAW4/XF2lrcIk3Jg/s400/13543_1181258248698_1145454533_30464463_3072941_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514244699634558482" /></a><div>Still capturing life, but differently. My photos didn't include only me, and it felt so good.</div><div>Soon enough, Chris asked me to shoot his clients along with him, and I loved it, because I was always capturing the inside moments that he couldn't get. Eventually, I was getting people asking me to do their photos as well.</div><div>I am still learning to capture honesty in a posed photo. I am still learning that it is okay to ask people to pose ways that seem uncomfortable, because they'll love the photo that comes from it.</div><div>My new favorite photos are photos of seniors, weddings, families, and much more.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6VBQwfGkqkw/TIaMlulLxMI/AAAAAAAAAXI/Cc83Nfr0nYs/s1600/IMG_4891edit.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6VBQwfGkqkw/TIaMlulLxMI/AAAAAAAAAXI/Cc83Nfr0nYs/s400/IMG_4891edit.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514249373548790978" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6VBQwfGkqkw/TIaMlA30E4I/AAAAAAAAAXA/t5bTUdqc3YU/s1600/14.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6VBQwfGkqkw/TIaMlA30E4I/AAAAAAAAAXA/t5bTUdqc3YU/s400/14.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514249361278899074" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6VBQwfGkqkw/TIaNYTxkX-I/AAAAAAAAAXQ/lqyuaNfyEX8/s1600/IMG_6573.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6VBQwfGkqkw/TIaNYTxkX-I/AAAAAAAAAXQ/lqyuaNfyEX8/s400/IMG_6573.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514250242526306274" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>To answer the question of would I like to do this forever? </div><div>Yes.</div><div>Recently, I have been given to opportunity to literally SHOOT OFF my work, and my clients. I have been getting more clients than before, and Chris and I have learned how to successfully shoot together.</div><div>This is not only a hobby, but it is a business. I do not wish to put the label of "business" on it, simply because I'm not a fan of shutting things into boxes. But I do know that I long to share what I see with others. I long for people to see in themselves what Christ sees of them.</div><div>So I will make that available, to anyone that asks. Because I am a photographer.</div><div><br /></div><div>Why am I a photographer?</div><div>I am a photographer because that is what Christ has instilled inside of me. That is the drum that my heart beats to. That is the rhythm that my mind and body form to.</div><div>Christ has given me an eye and a heart for people. I love being a photographer, because it forces me to find the good in every single person. It forces me to find beauty in all.</div><div>Christ has given me this eye. And I will not ignore that. I will not attempt to remove that, because it is forced into my heart.</div><div>Sometimes I debate whether I have what it takes. I wonder if I am good enough, if I have enough motivation to get things like editing and meetings done. But the truth is- of course I do. Because this is what Christ has made me.</div><div>And if for the rest of my life I have 8 seniors a summer, 3 families a year, and two weddings a year, that will be enough for me. Because that gives me the chance to intimately know each of those people. It will teach me about those around me, that Christ has created to have relationships with.</div><div>I long to deeply know people.</div><div>And photography is the way that I am able to do that.</div><div><br /></div><div>I do not wish to be "successful" in the eyes of the world. I do not wish to be a world-renowened, international photographer. Yes, that would be nice.</div><div>But my dream is to be a photographer for those in need of one. My dream is to be that for those directly in front of me, here and now.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I am a photographer.</div><div>It is my sweaty palms. It is my butterflies in my stomach. It is my itch in my throat. It is the beating of my heart.</div><div>But most of all-It is my worship.</div><div><br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6VBQwfGkqkw/TIaPuH_5zfI/AAAAAAAAAXg/T8A0L7EitAQ/s1600/27713_1395548803581_1078021026_1148684_4272792_n.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6VBQwfGkqkw/TIaPuH_5zfI/AAAAAAAAAXg/T8A0L7EitAQ/s400/27713_1395548803581_1078021026_1148684_4272792_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514252816345583090" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6VBQwfGkqkw/TIaPt3SRpJI/AAAAAAAAAXY/uHx33uczM0c/s1600/IMG_6554.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6VBQwfGkqkw/TIaPt3SRpJI/AAAAAAAAAXY/uHx33uczM0c/s400/IMG_6554.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514252811859240082" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6VBQwfGkqkw/TIaQ_WKZoaI/AAAAAAAAAXo/iTMBoTdXocM/s1600/DSC_0003.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6VBQwfGkqkw/TIaQ_WKZoaI/AAAAAAAAAXo/iTMBoTdXocM/s400/DSC_0003.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514254211717112226" /></a>☼melodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17860709120967538243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5808988294762513065.post-6590361599241165122010-08-03T22:47:00.001-07:002010-08-04T00:02:15.845-07:00Affections Stirred<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">A while back, it was an average day spending the night with my sister, when she asked me if I wanted to come with her to babysit the <a href="http://tishadeutsch.blogspot.com/">Deutsch</a> kids. My first reaction-absolutely not.</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">SEVEN kids. SEVEN. Me? With seven kinds? Seriously? Come on.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Alyssa glances over and adds in, "I'll pay you half."</span></span></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Crap. I need money. Photo stuff isn't going well...and it'd really just be nice to have a bit of money...</span></span></i></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">My mind started going through the pros and cons. And I kept coming back to saying no.</span></span></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">But I kinda needed a bit of money...</span></span></i></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">"Just try it once. Really, it's not as bad as you think it is. Just once. And if you hate it, you never have to come again," Lou said.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">"Fine," I grumbled.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">When it was time to go, we drove out there. What seemed like literally forever from even MY house, we got there. And I was starting to regret my coming. I mean...if you know anything about me-I'm really not good with kids. I've even gone far enough to say that I hate them a few (more like about a hundred million) times. And I was about to walk into a lion's den of children. (Yes, I really did compare children the ages of 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, and 8 to lions.)</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">We got there, and all of the kids stood at the door waiting for us. They were so excited Alyssa was back, and that she had brought someone new (me) with her. And my heart just melted at the sight of recently adopted Flint and Meadow with smiles from ear to ear. And I went in, and found the tiny Miss Clover, with a blanket up to her face and bed head like you've never seen. And the walls of my heart tore down. I couldn't help but fall in love when their teeny hands grabbed onto mine, and showed me around to each room, and proudly showed me which bed was theirs. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Let me pause this story, and go back a decade or so to when I was real little. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Ever since I was probably the age of comprehension, I've wanted to be a Mom. Whenever someone would ask me what I wanted to be when I grew up, into the 6th grade, my answer would be, "A Mom!". I was still asking for dolls for Christmas, when the other girls my age were getting much bigger and better, "grown-up" things. My Mom always tells stories of when Zach was just born (Before I was even 2...) I would get real nervous when he would start crying. And I would beg my Mom to hold him, comfort him, </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">something</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"> to get those sad drops of water to stop coming from his eyes.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Every single time I see a baby, my heart smiles from the deepest to the most shallow places. It literally swells in my chest, and I feel like I can't breathe. And I get a stupid-big smile on my face, and can't stop staring. (I know it may seem creepy, but I do it with the best intentions. I mean, how can you not look at the brand new eyes and soft skin of a baby and not fall in love?)</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">And what's even more heart-melting than a newborn? Well, a newly adopted child. I've always admired the parent who can take a child who they have never met, and love it with everything they are. And it's ugly, and it's hard, but it's so beautiful to me...the restoration. The smiles on the faces of those who would have had none without this willing family to take them home, and cherish them, and call them their own.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b>My heart beats to that drum, ladies and gentlemen. And it has since the very start</b>.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">But guess what?</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I had become hard. I had become cold, and walled up to the very thing that broke my heart for the things that beak His. I had become walled up to the fullest amount of joy I could have.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Why? Because all I had seen from children was broken, tired, worn-out Mothers.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I cannot tell you the amount of mothers I have seen that seem tired and annoyed with their kids. Even to the point where they turn their cheeks to the wrong-doings of their children, and pretend "it's just a stage, they'll grow out of it."</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">That frightened me. I don't want to be that Mom that runs around with kids that everyone hates because they're so awful. I don't want tobe that Mom that is tired. I don't want to be that Mom that forgets that their child needs guidance, because</span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"> I</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"> am worn out.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">And if my life-long dream has been to adopt- how can I possibly love a child that I did not carry in my stomach for nine months? How can I </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">possibly</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"> not become tired and sick of a child whom I did not carry in my own womb?</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">So this is where the walls came up. These walls came up out of fear, and hurt. I "knew" I could never be a good enough Mom, so I gave it up.I hated the children I saw, I hated the mothers that I saw, so I gave it up. I put up walls.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">And a few weeks ago, I was asked the question- What stirs my affections for Christ?</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">What is that one thing that makes you tick? </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">And my first thought-photography. Of course. That's been it for so long because that is a direct wire from my heart to Christ. What I see with my eyes is something I cherish, because I know it is from Christ. My photos are my worship. </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Of course</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"> photography stirs my affections for Christ.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">So I dismissed the thought. I already know what it is...why try finding other things? Not a big deal...</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">But Steph and I were up late one night. And she was venting to me her ponderings of the question. And so my mind went there with her. And where did my mind go?</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><a href="http://tishadeutsch.blogspot.com/">The Deutsch family.</a></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">And I tossed it around in my head-why? Why did these kids keep coming up in my head?</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Children stir my affections for Christ.</span></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">And tears immediately sprung to my eyes.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">So I thought about it a little bit more.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">And I realized-<a href="http://tishadeutsch.blogspot.com/">Tisha and Bob</a>.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">That's</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"> what stirred my affections for Christ.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">They know parenting like the back of their hand (I mean...with 7 kids, how can you not?). I'm sure they read all the books, and did all the research. But they didn't know what it would really be like. No one really does know. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">And so they went into it with their vision a little bit impaired. I'm sure they mess up sometimes, because every parent does. But their love for their children exceeds much of the love I have ever experienced. And my heart swells at this thought.</span></span></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">There is a mother out there who deeply, tenderly, passionately loves her children? There are children who are well behaved, and their mother is not made of stone? There are huge families that love each other? </span></span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Really?</span></span></span></i></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">My heart was broken for the things I had missed because of the walls I had put up before me. Because I simply couldn't love children, because I would end up being worn out, cold, and tired. Who wants to be that?</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I was too worried about myself, that I muffled the very thing that God had called me to love. God has called me to be on love with children, because children stir my heart. And they make me see again the love of Christ. The relationship between an adopting parent and their new child, is an image of Christ. The relationship between a mother and her daughter, and father and his son, they're all an image of Christ and His child.</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><b>I am the adopted child.</b></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I look at the </span><a href="http://tishadeutsch.blogspot.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Deutsch</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> family, and see something that is not seen very often.</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">A perfectly happy, perfectly imperfect, perfectly in love</span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">family of nine</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">.</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Because the truth is- </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Children stir my affections for Christ.</span></span></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Motherhood</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> stirs my affections for Christ.</span></span></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">And Tisha, your family has lit that fire inside of me. I feel so incredibly blessed to know each child of yours, and be able to call you a friend.</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">When I grow up, I want to be just like you....</span></span></span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">(and my Mom, of course...)</span></span></span></i></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 264px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6VBQwfGkqkw/TFkIeT1y1PI/AAAAAAAAAV4/ksSJG8nvdl0/s400/Scan+10.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501437736624772338" /></span></span></span></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">(I was planning on putting more photos on this blog, but they don't seem to be in the right format, and I can't change them at the moment...so nevermind...)</span></span></span></i></div>☼melodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17860709120967538243noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5808988294762513065.post-72668754956142030812010-07-20T09:26:00.000-07:002010-07-20T11:44:23.705-07:00That's How Good It Feels<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#66CCCC;">One thing I would like to think I am-is a peaceful person. I would like to believe that I can handle any situation with the utmost grace and mercy and peace than anyone has ever seen. I'd like to say that I am an easy-going person-you know, that girl that really doesn't care what other people think of her, and is willing to just go with the flow.</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#66CCCC;">But I'm learning that that's probably not true.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#66CCCC;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#66CCCC;">I'm a worrier. I sit and worry and contemplate and run circles like a hamster on a wheel in my head continually. I'm a girl that asks "what if" all the time, and can't stop to think that the "what if"'s are generally what leads to worrying. I stress over small things. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#66CCCC;">I am, straight up, a worrier.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#66CCCC;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#66CCCC;">And when times of peace come, it feels so dang good. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#66CCCC;">I know deep down, if my trust is based on Christ alone, I wouldn't have to worry. I don't need to worry. Because He's got it covered.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#66CCCC;">So in reality, at my core, I am that girl that goes with the flow and has a sense of peace about her because really, I don't care what we do. Because I am up for anything.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#66CCCC;">At my core, in my heart, that's who I am. But I let the small worries and stresses of daily life get in my way.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#66CCCC;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#66CCCC;">Right now, I am in a place of peace.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#66CCCC;">School is coming up-I'm starting at PPCC in August. Going back to school, interacting with people, starting college. I need a new camera, and I'm not stressing about it anymore. Nikki is leaving for college, and I am okay with it. We may be moving in the next 1-10 months. I have to get rid of my dog for a time.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#66CCCC;">Each morning, I can wake up, stay all day in my pajamas. I can spend my morning cuddled up with my dog, listening to a sermon, or writing or reading. I can sit in the living room and hear the chatter of Stephanie doing a client's hair, while I write a blog and feel the fresh morning air pouring through the windows before the heat sets in for the afternoon.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#66CCCC;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#66CCCC;">God has put my heart in a place of peace.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#66CCCC;">And since I know that's really who I am at my core, it feels so deliciously good when those times come.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#66CCCC;">And I will drink it in as if it is my last sip of water. </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#66CCCC;">That's</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#66CCCC;"> how good it feels.</span></span></div>☼melodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17860709120967538243noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5808988294762513065.post-83224491624289058022010-07-12T10:06:00.000-07:002010-07-12T10:43:32.153-07:00Time<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;">Sometimes it's frustrating to follow the rules.</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;">Literally painful, even.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;">Last night I was scorned for being on the computer at midnight. But I've been told this before. A couple days before, I was scorned for not telling my parents that while I was hanging out with Alyssa, we invited Chris along. I've been told this before too.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;">What is it that causes me to "forget" things I don't want to hear?</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;">What is it, in my human brain, that literally pushes out the things I don't want to hear?</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;">I feel like my conscious isn't even existent anymore.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;">It doesn't even register in my head that maybe, I might be doing something that isn't okay.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;">When did that go away?</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;">The thing is-I need people to keep me accountable to that. And in order to do so, I must tell them what they need to keep me accountable for, or else they will not be able to help me.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;">I need someone.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;">I need people in my life to tell me when I am slipping, because the slip easily becomes a crash and fall.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;">And this slip shouldn't be done alone, because I am physically unable to pick myself up.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;">We've seen that.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;">We know that.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;">I am a sinful human. The deepest parts of me tell me that I am evil, and I am wrong.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;">But Christ has wiped me clean, and loves me anyway.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;">Christ is the one that picked me up when I fell, and I need people with Christ-like traits to prevent my slip in the first place.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;">It all starts with me.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;">Christ is in relentless pursuit of my soul.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;">I must be wholly devoted.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;">I must be willing to admit that I am wrong sometimes. I must be willing to listen to the rules and boundaries that have been placed in my life by people who love me.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;">From now on, I will place my own rules to an extreme, because I cannot handle them on my own.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;">My computer will be in my parent's room at 10 o'clock. Everything I need to get done must be done during the day.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;">Yesterday at Starbucks, we talked of priorities. My priorities need to be turned off of me.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;">As Mark Driscoll said, living a single life is selfish. And although I am not single, I am not married. And there is still a lot of selfishness that can come even from dating.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;">I need to prioritize my life. I need to go to bed, and wake up, at a decent hour. I need to spend my time wisely because the truth is-there is no measure to my time. Christ is the only one who knows the day, the hour, the second that I will breathe my last. And that could be today.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;">And I hate the saying "live like you're dying" or "live each day as if it is your last".</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;">But the truth is-my time is not my own, but it is Christ's.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;">And it must be spent in better ways, because I cannot remember the last time that I spent my time glorifying Christ in my day-to-day every second life.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;">And that hurts.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;">GOD! You are all I need.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;">I pray that I will follow and glorify you in all my days.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;">I give my time to You.</span></span></div>☼melodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17860709120967538243noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5808988294762513065.post-86673797166853948382010-07-01T09:13:00.000-07:002010-07-01T09:48:13.391-07:00There Is Ugly Everywhere<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC6600;">I always talk about how I can't wait to get out of Falcon. I can't wait to finish seeing the faces of people that haunt my past and continually remind me of the destructive path I accepted...happily.</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC6600;">Little did I realize, Falcon is a safe haven compared to many others.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC6600;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC6600;">I am blessed to be where I am. Here, I am not surrounded with the many addictions I could have easily drowned in. And although I still see people and things I don't want to see-I am no longer being force fed those things.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC6600;">I am redeemed.</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC6600;">And absolutely nothing can force me to reduce that to a smaller event than it is. Because really it is not even an event at all. It is a lifestyle. A life to live. Eyes to see. Heart to feel. Mind to think.</span></span></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC6600;">My redemption cannot be contained or labeled.</span></span></i></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC6600;">Truth is-there is ugly everywhere.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC6600;">But this ugly was put there by the hands of the very one who destroyed me before. This ugly was not put there or created by God. And that is something I must remember. God is a God of love, so He has given us free will. And I must be grateful for that, even if it scares me. Because if we did not have free will, it would not be about love.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC6600;">It's all about love.</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC6600;">If not for free will, it wouldn't be about faith or trust or hope or passion or freedom. Redemption would not be needed. And isn't that everything that has ever given me life?</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC6600;">I must choose to live this life.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC6600;">And I was meant to do so from the start. As all of us were. But it took me a long time to overcome my pride and stop saying "I can do it on my own."</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC6600;">I gave it to Christ.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC6600;">And now I am </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC6600;">unable</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC6600;"> to do it without Him.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC6600;">Christ is beauty.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC6600;">And I </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC6600;">must</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC6600;"> remember that </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC6600;">even in the ugly.</span></span></i></div>☼melodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17860709120967538243noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5808988294762513065.post-5490423491381431762010-06-13T15:15:00.000-07:002010-06-13T15:45:13.246-07:00Remembering The Forgotten<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6VBQwfGkqkw/TBVfCS_up6I/AAAAAAAAAU4/J2871r4E6i4/s400/three.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482392614456960930" /></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">I've been processing my Honduras trip for about a week now, and I still feel like I'm still only covering the basics. I've also been debating when I want to blog, because, like I said, I feel I've only scratched at the surface. But I'm feeling the urge to blog (since my photo blog has taken DAYS, and now I must start </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">all over</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">, because I'm ever so forgetful, and forgot to add my logo. </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">To every single photo</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">.) and I feel like I have enough to say to inform you of the trip, and how it went.</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">I decided I wanted to blog...and then couldn't figure out what to write about. Each and every day's schedule? The movements in my heart? If so, which one? Maybe about the scenery? Maybe about how my heart experienced SUCH a change?</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">And going through all these things-I noticed a common theme. Myself.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">Yes, it seems this blog is about me, my life, my words, my heart. But in reality, this trip was about finding out how to not be selfish. To stop being greedy, to love what I have, and to love others. To give up myself for His glory.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">So I'm going to forget myself for a bit, and write about the people I met, the lives I entered into, the family I created, the hearts I saw broken.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">It was such an adventure.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">I met so many people in Mision Caribe, and involved with Mision Caribe. Each and every heart was open to us. Hugs and kisses were frequent. Stops to genuinely ask how we are were continuous. And although many of them were as fluent in English as I am in Spanish (which...if you know me...is fairly horrid), they always said good morning, and tried to find ways to ask us about our day, and our lives.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">One man that really stuck out to me was Anival. He reminded me of a Honduran, Jesus-loving, mellow, Spanish-speaking version of my Uncle Kevin. He had a true attachment to Skylar that I don't think any of us understand. (I'm sure it was the kid's blue eyes, blonde hair, friendly and outgoing personality, and his love to just make people grin.) Every time they said good-bye, Sky would say "Hasta Lavista!" And Anival would pop his head around the corner and say, "baby!" He gave him many hugs. His protection for our entire group was beautiful. He was always watching out for all of us.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">When we went house-calling in different towns and villages, many people invited us into their home. And when they didn't have enough chairs to sit on, they would offer us their beds. They'd listen intently, making eye contact, even though the words they were hearing were coming from a translator.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">Each person down there that we made contact with was friendly, hospitable, and sincere. Even the ones who didn't know Christ!</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">My goal for you (and myself) is to be like them. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">Shouldn't we, as Christians, be more like them?</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">Often times, I find myself shutting my eyes to opportunity. I complain because I don't want to do something. I complain because people are just annoying, and I'd rather talk than listen to their pitiful stories. I start to form sentences in my head before they have finished talking, so that what I say is "impressive".</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">I don't even act like the Honduran people with my closest friends. It has been a common thing for me to begin thinking of myself before anyone else. It's selfish.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">The first night we were in Honduras, we went to a nursing home. All of us were tired, but since this was something new and exciting, we mustered up our best attitudes and went down there pleasantly to feed some elderly people.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">Before we left, one woman said, "Thank you for remembering us."</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">This hit home.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">This hit close.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">I, as a Christian, should remember the forgotten. We all should. God </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">calls us</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;"> to remember the forgotten.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">It is not my job to continually look to myself and ask, "What can I do?" "I want this person to do this, so that I will feel better." "I want this..." "I want that..."</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">I am nothing. I have FAR more than I need.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">I should not begin every sentence with I.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">Yes, I need to check my heart frequently. Check my motives, and my intentions.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">But above all else, I should be looking out for other people. I am called to look out for other people. Love the unloved. Forgive the unforgiven. Remember the forgotten.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">Not because I need to, but because I should want to.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">Because my example is Christ. And although I can never live up to that, I would like to do the best I can to do as He has instructed.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">Remember the forgotten.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">A sentence that was continually in the forefront of my mind.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">A challenge, I would say. To go and spread the word of Christ.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">He has not forgotten anyone. He loves every person, every heart.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">But times in this world-people feel lost, and feel forgotten.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">I feel called to show them that Christ remembers them. And not only that-He knows the intricate places of their hearts, their minds, and their souls.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">He knows the number of hairs on their head! He molded them in their Mother's womb!</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">God remembers.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">No one is truly forgotten.</span></span></div><div><br /></div></div>☼melodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17860709120967538243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5808988294762513065.post-64770927874311247592010-05-30T18:37:00.000-07:002010-05-30T19:13:24.927-07:00Confession<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">So I'd like to make a confession.</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">I know, you're not a priest, and you may not want to hear it. But I'm going to tell you anyway, because it's all part of a story that I am </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">sure</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"> is going to change my life.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">I didn't want to go to Honduras.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">Oh, there it is. Out in the open.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">I kept telling myself there were bigger, better things for me to do. I kept convincing myself that it was okay that I was muffling out the fire in my heart. I kept saying, "If I wait long enough, no one will ask anymore."</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">And eventually, I got into what I thought would be the safety zone.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">6 weeks before the trip. NO way to get my passport in that time. NO way to get $800 in that time. NO way anyone would continue to ask.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">But-I spoke too soon.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">Nicole kept asking, Taylor kept prying, Stephanie kept pushing, and Mom kept forcing.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">I did everything I could, until it got to the point of </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">actually forgetting</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"> that there was even a Honduras trip at all. And when someone asked, I'd reply with a simple, "ehh...I dunno...I don't think I can..."</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">Until one day, my Mom pulled me by the arm to Barry, and said to him, "She wants to go."</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">There it was. The statement I had been avoiding for weeks. Even months.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">"She wants to go."</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">"She </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">wants</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"> to go."</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">I thought I didn't want to go. But my Mom knew better.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">I did want to go. I wanted, with everything in me, to go to Honduras. But I suppressed those thoughts, and convinced myself there was no reason, no way I could, and no possible way anyone wanted to go.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">Barry began calling out the things I needed to do, "Passport, $800, talk to the lady who's booking flights, make sure you have everything, etc, etc, etc."</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">No way in heck I'm going on this trip.</span></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">Even after that, it took a lot of convincing to send out letters. It took me another week to get the letters out, so I had 5 weeks to get $800 from all over the world, from different family members and companies.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">After I got all my letters printed, it took me another day to get them enveloped and addressed and stamped.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">We went in, and got my passport. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">4-6 weeks.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">My heart sky-rocketed.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">God, do you want me to go?</span></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">Soon after, I got an e-mail from my Great Aunt, telling me she was so proud of the things I was doing, and wanted to send me $100. I was shocked.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">God...do you want me to go?</span></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">And slowly, the money kept coming in. Person by person, letter by letter, question by question, it all came pouring in.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">Each and every time...</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">God, do you want me to go?</span></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">It wasn't until I got my passport that I knew I was supposed to go.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">It came in the mail while I was branding. When I came home, I woke up in the morning, and was reading and writing. Steph told me she had a gift, and to hold out my hands and close my eyes.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">She placed in my hand that little book, and I wanted to cry.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">God, you are here. You obviously want me to go. I'm sorry, for refusing you, for not wanting to go where you're wanting me to go.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">Thank you, God. For pulling this together even when I told you no.</span></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">Today Barry's sermon was about following Jesus' example. It's not only about knowing the word, but obeying the word.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">Discovering God in everywhere you are. It's not only about going to different countries, and doing big things, but doing exactly what God wants where you are.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">Ask God for opportunity. Want His plan in every opportunity. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">The reality is-it is not about me.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">So, here I am, the night before, freaking out a little bit. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">And I have to keep reminding myself that it is not about me, but it is about God.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">I need to be that example whether I want to go or not. I </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">need</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"> to </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">want</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"> to go, because it's where </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">God </span></span></b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">wants</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"> me to go.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">It breaks my heart that I ever told him no, that I ever refused His plan, even when I knew it was where I was meant to go. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">My confession is:</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">I am a selfish human being.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';">And I need God's grace just like everybody else.</span></span></div>☼melodiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17860709120967538243noreply@blogger.com0