What's Your Secret?

So there's this movement called PostSecret. People write their deepest, darkest secrets on postcards and mail them in to the PostSecret headquarters, and then they are photographed and put onto the PostSecret website as well as inside books. I am a huge fan of this movement. There's something about reading other people's secrets that makes me feel...scandalous, like I'm reading something I shouldn't be. Probably a little immature, but nevertheless, true. Anyway, I have one of the PostSecret books and I was reading through it earlier, which inspired me to make this post. Here are some of my favorite secrets:



"My butt sweats when I get nervous."

"When you were in the ICU, I took your picture.
I wanted you to see what you looked like, so that you might go into rehab.
I never showed you the pictures, you never went to rehab, and I never forgave myself.
I am so sorry."

"I lick the inside of microwave popcorn bags."

"I'm a cheerleader, but secretly I deal drugs."

"I drool. A lot."



"In elementary school, I started lying and telling everybody that I was allergic to peanuts. This is my first peanut butter cup in years. I had to eat in my car so my fiance wouldn't see. He thinks I'm allergic to them too."

"Sometimes I wish I didn't believe...so I could stop feeling like I am just disappointing Him."

"We haven't spoken since that night. It was an accident. I swear!"

"I wish I had not tried to grow up so fast. I feel like I missed some important parts of young adulthood.
He left me anyway."

"I miss you and I love you,
but I don't know who you are.
YET."

We The Redeemed

I got to see Hillsong last night at Hannah's home church and they were incredible. They sang Hosanna, which is one of my very favorite songs ever, and the experience was such a blessing. But they've also got a fairly new song out called "We the Redeemed" that is totally the song of my heart at the moment. Here are the lyrics:

There is nothing like your love
No exchange for all you gave
To be welcomed into life
So I can know a love that saves' great song!

And now forever to belong
To walk with you for all my days
There's no greater love from this
You are the author and the way

This is the sound of the redeemed
Rising up to praise the king
Our hope is in you

This is the sound of the redeemed
Rising up to praise the king

Singing
Glorious, glorious one
You have saved us
Honour and power and praise to the savior
You are the answer
You are the answer

You come with power, come with fire
As we lift your name on high
Join with all the saints to sing
Bringing honour to the king

Glory his glory has won
He will save us
Honor and power race to the savior
You are the answer you are the answer

We The Redeemed hear us singing
You are holy you are holy

I think my favorite line in the whole song is "You are the answer," because it couldn't possibly be more true. We're constantly searching for answers as to how things work, why things happen, who we should trust--He's the answer. To all of our questions, our cries, our pleas, our shouts. I'm praying that all of us would remember this truth; that when something down here doesn't make sense, we would look up for the answer.
People make mistakes, disasters happen, things get ugly; but nevertheless we shouldn't allow them to get complicated. No matter how confusing, twisted, heartbreaking the problem, the answer remains simple. Jesus.
Just give them Jesus.

The File Cabinet Men

It has recently occurred to me that not everyone's process of metacognition works the way mine does. What I mean is, not everyone thinks about the way they think in the same way I do. See, in my head there is a multitude of tiny men surrounded by tiny four-drawer file cabinets. These file cabinets contain every single fact and detail and emotion that I currently possess. (Apparently I'm subconsciously sexist because there are no File Cabinet Women. Only men. Perhaps this is because a bunch of women crammed in a small space together would become catty and hurt each others' feelings, making things quite inefficient for processing thoughts.) Anyway, each tiny man, or FCM (short for File Cabinet Man), is in charge of his own file cabinet. So, for instance, there is a specific FCM who knows things like my name, my address, and other general information about me; there is another in charge of math and yet another in charge of, say, rage.
These FCMs are generally very good at what they do, and rarely drop the ball. However, there are moments. For instance, on one occasion, a Random Facts FCM is casually organizing his files when, to his utter dismay, he comes across a file labeled, "Psychology Paper Due Monday." This isn't mine! Frantically, he asks the FCM in charge of dates what day it was. When he confirms that it is indeed Monday, the Dates FCM consults with the FCM in charge of school classes and syllabuses, who confirms that yes, there is in fact a paper due in psychology at 11:00. Now, these three run across the maze of file cabinets to find the FCM in charge of recent activity. No, he says, panic across his face, I've no record of any paper being written! We have no psychology paper! At this point there are FCMs running around everywhere in a flurry of files. The Bullshit FCM is called in to come up with enough information to formulate a paper, and then hands it off to the Grammar and Punctuation FCM who scans it for errors. Once the paper is complete and satisfactory, a team of Emotions FCMs comes in and calms everyone down. Within an hour, files have been put back into place and everything is once again in order. A ball was dropped, but the recovery was quite impressive.
There are also times when the FCMs happen upon some sort of glitch and become confused. This is, predictably, most common in the Emotions Department. The Laughter and Appropriateness FCMs are prone to arguments. Often the man in charge of laughter will register that something is funny and insist that I laugh; concurrently, the Appropriateness FCM is trying to stifle him with a file that tells him that this is in fact NOT an appropriate moment for laughter. Therefore, some laughs make it through while others do not, resulting in ridiculous snorting sounds that the Embarrassment FCM blushes at. Glitches are also commonly found in the anxiety file cabinet. The Anxiety FCM will read a file that says, "Biology Test Thursday" and begins to panic. Are we prepared for this?! He runs to the Recent Activities FCM who assures him that the test has been prepared for, but when the Bullshit FCM says that he is trying to pull one over on him, a fight breaks out between the three. Anxiety FCM runs around screaming while Bullshit and Recent Activities argue over whether the file that claims studying occurred is legitimate, or if it really belongs with the False Hope FCM. See, this is where things get complicated. In order to sort this out, the Anxiety FCM will need to visit the Logic FCM, who will convince him that my GPA will not plummet with one bad test grade, and that this is not his fault. The Bullshit FCM will need to be calmed down as well, and the Recent Activities FCM will have to have a meeting with the False Hope FCM in which they will decide the ultimate fate of the file. Obviously, The File Cabinet Men are still learning to work with each other, though overall they do a pretty good job.
Not only do these minuscule men have to constantly be on their game, but they must also deal with the curves I throw at them. The Caffeine FCM is responsible for knowing exactly when and how much caffeine that I've consumed and then pass memos out to the other FCMs telling them to work faster. Recently, I decide that I will not have any caffeine one day. This makes Caffeine FCM VERY angry. He has no job to do now, and is bored, so he sits on top of his file cabinet and does nothing. When the other FCMs, who are working very hard, see this and become irritated. Well if he's not going to do anything, I am most certainly not going to bust my butt to get this stuff done. Now I've got a bunch of pissed off FCMs and, consequently, a terrible headache. Needless to say, my Caffeine FCM is highly persuasive and capable of easily throwing things off kilter.
When I begin drinking vast amounts of water, the Bodily Functions FCM, who is pressing for a bathroom break, wants to drop kick the Recent Activities FCM when he informs him that I have, in fact, just had another liter of water. Once again Logic FCM must drop what he is doing and explain to Bodily Functions that Recent Activities is only doing his job by reporting my recent activities, all the while Caffeine FCM is hollering at everyone to hurry up and do what they need to do.
My File Cabinet Men are focused, ambitious little people, and work very hard to keep functioning properly in society. So, if you ask me a question and I do something that seems irrational, chances are there's been a glitch and several men are trying their hardest to fix it as soon as possible. If you would be so kind, simply wait a few moments while they sort things out and then graciously repeat the question. Etiquette FCM says thank you.

The Origin of Life (The real one)

My Contemporary Biology teacher believes that he is a very funny man.
He is not.
Perhaps, however, I am biased because I find him to be very offensive. Specifically, I find his blatant disrespect for Christianity offensive. He did warn us in the first class that if we were "religious" he would probably offend us--you might say this justifies his behavior because we were forewarned. I, however, see it as an excuse for him to be rude and opinionated.
This man does not simply teach evolution and the big bang because are the "scientifically accepted" theories. He teaches these things and then goes on to make fun of those who believe in creationism. And it is truly infuriating.
He is a small man, one might even call him puny. Wears his pants too high and has large glasses. Basically, I could kill him easily, which makes it even harder to sit there in class and allow him to insult what is my truth, the very essence of what I believe in.
Do people honestly believe that there just so happened to be a giant explosion of random gases in the universe, which created the planet, which was full of random gases, that, over a billion years, converted into proteins which somehow turned into a cell and that all of the world came from that cell? And not only this, but we happen to be just the right distance from the sun so that we don't freeze or burn, and we happen to have just enough gravity to keep us down without imploding. My, we humans are quite lucky, aren't we?
I realize that this is a relatively pointless entry, but I feel much better having written it. My only wish is that I could learn this information that the university requires me to know without being insulted in the process.
I also find myself saddened that those in the class who don't know Jesus are hearing falsities about who they are and where the came from. My prayer is that they would find the truth--that we aren't all the result of a spontaneous explosion; that we were created for a purpose by a loving God; that we aren't simply organisms who are born and die, as science would have them believe.

What I love, and am so thankful for is that we have all the answers we will ever need on earth in the bible. I don't have to look for scientific evidence and make a hypothesis and perform an experiment and whatnot. God has given us the answers...all we have to do is believe them.

Genesis 1

In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness covered the surface of the watery depths, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the surface of the waters. Then God said, "Let there be light," and there was light. God saw that the light was good, and God separated the light from the darkness. god called the light "day," and He called the darkness "night." Evening came, and then morning: the first day.
Then God said, "Let there be an expanse between the waters, separating water from water." So God made the expanse and separated the water under the expanse from the water above the expanse. And it was so. God called the expanse "sky." Evening came, and then morning: the second day.
Then God said, "Let the water under the sky be gathered into one place, and let the dry land appear." And it was so. God called the dry land "earth," and He called the gathering of the water "seas." And God saw that it was good. then god said, "let the earth produce vegetation: seed-bearing plants, and fruit trees on the earth bearing fruit with seed in it, according to their kinds." And it was so. the earth brought forth vegetation: seed-bearing plants according to their kinds and trees bearing fruit with seed in it, according to their kinds. And God saw that it was good. Evening came, and then morning: the third day.
Then God said, "Let there be lights in the expanse of the sky to separate the day from the night. They will serve as signs for festivals and for days and years. they will be lights in the expanse of the sky to provide light on the earth." And it was so. God made the two great lights--the greater light to have dominion over the day and the lesser light on the earth, to dominate the day and the night, and to separate light from darkness. And God saw that it was good. Evening came and then morning: the fourth day.
Then God said, "Let the water swarm with living creatures, and let birds fly above the earth across the expanse of the sky." So God created the large sea-creatures and every living creature that moves and swarms in the water, according to their kinds. He also created every winged bird according to its kind. and God saw that it was good. So god blessed them, "Be fruitful, multiply, and fill the waters of the seas, and let the birds multiply on the earth." Evening came, and then morning: the fifth day.
Then God said, "Let the earth produce living creatures according to their kinds: Livestock, creatures that crawl, and the wildlife of the earth according to their kinds." And it was so. So God made the wildlife of the earth according to their kinds, the livestock according to their kinds, and creatures that crawl on the ground according to their kinds. And God saw that it was good.
Then God said, "Let us make man in our image, according to our likeness. They will rule the fish of the sea, the birds of the sky, the livestock, all the earth, and the creatures that crawl on the earth.

So God created man in His own image;
He created him in the image of God;
He created them male and female.

God blessed them, and God said to them, "Be fruitful and multiply, fill the earth, and subdue it. rule the fish of the sea, and the birds of the sky, and every creature that crawls on the earth." God also said, "Look, I have given you every seed-bearing plant on the surface of the entire earth, and every tree whose fruit contains seed. This food will be for you, for all the wildlife of the earth, for every bird of the sky, and for every creature that crawls on the earth--everything having the breath of life in it. I have given every green plant for food." and it was so. God saw all that He had made, and it was very good. Evening came, and then morning: the sixth day.

Brandon's Story

So, I was recently hired as a writer for the North Texas Daily, and tomorrow morning my first story is going to run in the paper! Lauren's boyfriend Brandon is really awesome and he's biracial, so the story is about him and his experiences as someone of mixed race.
Here it is:

When music education senior Brandon Nase smiles, his eyes grin also, revealing his gentle disposition. He possesses a stunning voice and passion for music. Less evident, however, is the fact that Brandon is biracial and has faced challenges in his life that most will never experience.
Brandon, whose mother is white and father is African-American, grew up in Amarillo, Texas. “I’ve never met my dad, because he left before I was born. He found out my mom was pregnant and he told her she needed to get an abortion,” Nase said. His mother had been living in Houston with her father and stepmother at the time, though, when she was pressed to get an abortion by Nase’s father as well as her own father, she moved away to Amarillo to be with her grandmother. When Nase was a few months old his mom married his stepfather Tony, who is also African-American. “Things growing up were rough,” says Nase, “My mom and stepdad had a lot of problems and there was a lot of emotional and verbal, and sometimes physical, abuse and so therefore my stepdad and I didn’t really have a relationship. I didn’t like him because he was mean to my mom.”
During his childhood Nase often felt discrimination. He said, “When I was little and my mom went to the gym, she would take us to the nursery and then were numerous occasions when she came back to get us and the other kids would say, ‘You can’t go with her! She’s white and you’re black!’” Nase was also marginalized at the local swimming pool. “One time I was at a swimming pool and I was holding on to the ladder and one of the guys in the pool told me to move and get out of the way and said, ‘Ugh. You people.’” Nase said, “I was like ‘What do you mean, you people?’”
Dr. George Yancey, of the sociology faculty said, “Biracial individuals face pressure from both of their parent’s racial groups. They often have to prove their loyalty to the minority group while still facing discrimination from the majority group. When asked whether he relates to one group more than the other, Brandon said, “I think that I probably am more, well, I grew up with my mom’s family and they’re all white so that culture is more familiar to me than the typical African American culture. And it’s obvious that I dress like a white boy.” Brandon’s girlfriend, music education sophomore Lauren Weldin, snickered and said, “When we’re driving and he gets really bad road rage and that’s when his ‘black’ comes out. We’ll be driving and someone will cut him off and he’ll be like ‘Oh no they didn’t!’”
Weldin, who is white, said she was shocked when she found out Nase was biracial. “He sent me a picture of his family,” Weldin said, “and I was like, ‘Your mom’s white!” Both Nase and Weldin agree that his white upbringing gives them some common ground in the relationship.
Nase said, “All of my friends assume she’s white before I even tell them, because that’s how I come off to them, as a white person.”
Nase said though he was raised among and relates to the white culture, his brown skin causes him to stand out. “I would have friends whose parents would be like, ‘I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s not acceptable,” he said, “’He’s black and you’re white.’” His freshman year, a girl asked Nase to attend her sorority’s date party with her. A few days before the event, however, she called and claimed one of her good friends had come to town and she felt obligated to attend with him. Later, Nase found out the girl’s father told her that were she to attend the date party with Brandon, he would stop paying for her education.
“It has nothing to do with me being biracial,” he said, “It all comes down to the color of my skin.”
Nase said, however, "This is who I am and I'm proud of that. Plus, I have great hair."

Excuse me, Ma'am?

“Excuse me, Ma’am?”
As I turn around I can see him walking towards me on the subway. My grip tightens around my bag and immediately I know it. This man is the one.

Our first date is flawless. I choose a rather flashy red dress and begin to doubt my decision in the taxi, but when he looks at me my apprehension melts and I feel beautiful. He tells me of growing up in Braselton, Georgia where his daddy worked as a water operator and his mamma cooked fried chicken every Friday. He explains that at eighteen he left Braselton for NYU with an academic scholarship, where he studied medicine. I am enthralled with his eyes, deep blue like the ocean, wishing I could swim in them.
Exactly one year later, we are married in the plaza. The wedding is beautiful, three hundred in attendance. He doesn’t particularly care about flowers but he has gorgeous centerpieces that are full of beautiful and extravagant flowers because he knows that I love them. We say our own vows, promising to love one another for as long as we can. We sip champagne together in the limo and dance our first dance as husband and wife. In this moment I love him more fiercely than I imagined possible. We honeymoon in Paris and have the time of our lives. He tells me that this is everything he has ever wanted, that I am who he’s waited for his whole life. Our kiss under the Eiffel Tower is one that I will remember forever.
Spring arrives, and with it is our firstborn, a blue-eyed baby girl. Her daddy stands at the edge of her crib and gazes at her as she sleeps. When she is older he swings her up onto his shoulders and carries her downstairs for pancakes every Saturday morning. Her blonde curls are tossed and wild from sleep, her blue eyes deep and penetrating, just like her father’s. As I watch her laugh at daddy’s silly face, I am amazed that this beautiful creature came from me. I hang her art on the refrigerator, three stick figures drawn holding hands in front of a purple house. In the next years we have two more children, each just as stunning as the last.
When the kids are older they bring their families over for Christmas Eve and we eat a brilliant roast and sing carols and open presents. Our grandkids run around with their cousins, whom they haven’t seen in a long time, showing off new train sets and brushing dolls’ hair. I lean into my husband and smile; what more could I possibly need in life than this?
At sixty he retires and we spend a month traveling around the world. We drink beer in Germany, ride a gondola in Venice, and swim in the clear waters of Greece. We are more in love than ever, having experienced the joys and trials of life together. Though we are growing older, I look forward to these later years, in which we will slow down and enjoy quiet hours together.
A few days before his eightieth birthday he dies suddenly of a heart attack. I am devastated and feel a pain more intense than I have ever experienced. As I sit in his funeral I reflect on the life we’ve spent together and though I am heartbroken I begin to feel lighter, knowing that I have lived a life so wonderful that I would do him wrong not to be joyful. I stand at his grave and smile, thinking of the day when we will reunite and continue our life together, never having missed--


“Excuse me, Ma’am? Your coffee is leaking onto your skirt.”

Psalm 51

Have mercy on me, O God,
according to your unfailing love;
according to your great compassion
blot out my transgressions.
Wash away all my iniquity
and cleanse me from my sin.

For I know my transgressions,
and my sin is always before me.
Against you, you only, have I sinned
and done what is evil in your sight,
so that you are proved right when you speak
and justified when you judge.
Surely I was sinful at birth,
sinful from the time my mother conceived me.
Surely you desire truth in the inner parts;
you teach me wisdom in the inmost place.

Cleanse me with hyssop, and I will be clean;
wash me, and I will be whiter than snow.
Let me hear joy and gladness;
let the bones you have crushed rejoice.
Hide your face from my sins
and blot out all my iniquity.

Create in my a pure heart, O God,
and renew a steadfast spirit within me.
Do not cast me from your presence
or take your Holy Spirit from me.
Restore to me the joy of your salvation
and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me.

Then I will teach transgressors your ways,
and sinners will turn back to you.
Save me from bloodguilt, O God,
the God who saves me,
and my tongue will sing of your righteousness.
O Lord, open my lips,
and my mouth will declare your praise.
You do not delight in sacrifice, or I would bring it;
you do not take pleasure in burnt offerings.
The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit;
a broken and contrite heart,
O God, you will not despise.

In your good pleasure make Zion prosper;
build up the walls of Jerusalem.
Then there will be righteous sacrifices,
whole burnt offerings to delight you;
then bulls will be offered on your altar.

~Psalm 51

How privileged we are to serve a God who is so loving, so full of compassion, that he is willing to overlook our darkness and see us as the beautiful beings that he created us to be. God offers this burden-lifting grace freely, and yet all to often we refuse to accept it. Whether it be pride, ignorance, guilt, fear; we allow these things to consume us and stifle the voice of our Savior, who has been saying all along, "My child, let me have it. I'll take care of it for you. Let me have it. Let. Me. Have. It."
Let us come before our God and lay our lives down at his feet. When we do this he will restore us. The God of the universe will gladly mend hurts and restore broken souls--all we have to do is ask.

Thank you, Jesus, for carrying the weight of our sins. Thank you for healing us, though truly we deserve death. Thank you for loving us enough to pull us out of the stormy waters when we faithlessly become afraid and cry out. Thank you that we will never have to face anything alone.

"You take my mourning,
and turn it into dancing.
You take my weeping,
and turn it into laughing.

You bring restoration,
You bring restoration,
You bring restoration,

To my soul."

A Woman's Week At The Gym

I received this in an email and thought it was too funny to not share...Happy workouts, ladies!

A WOMAN'S WEEK AT THE GYM

If you read this without laughing out loud, there is something wrong with you. This is dedicated to everyone who ever attempted to get into a regular workout routine.

Dear Diary,
For my birthday this year, my Husband (the dear) purchased a week of personal training at the local health club for me.

Although I am still in great shape since being a high school football cheerleader 43 years ago, I decided it would be a good idea to go ahead and give it a try.

I called the club and made my reservations with a personal trainer named Christo, who identified himself as a 26-year-old aerobics instructor and model for athletic clothing and swim wear.

My husband seemed pleased with my enthusiasm to get started! The club encouraged me to keep a diary to chart my progress.


MONDAY:
Started my day at 6:00 a.m. Tough to get out of bed, but found it was well worth it when I arrived at the health club to find Christo waiting for me. He is something of a Greek god - with blond hair, dancing eyes and a dazzling white smile. Woo Hoo!!

Christo gave me a tour and showed me the machines. I enjoyed watching the skillful way in which he conducted his aerobics class after my workout today. Very inspiring!

Christo was encouraging as I did my sit-ups, although my gut was already aching from holding it in the whole time he was around. This is going to be a FANTASTIC week-!!


TUESDAY:
I drank a whole pot of coffee, but I finally made it out the door. Christo made me lie on my back and push a heavy iron bar into the air then he put weights on it! My legs were a little wobbly on the treadmill, but I made the full mil e. His rewarding smile made it all worthwhile. I feel GREAT-!! It's a whole new life for me..


WEDNESDAY:
The only way I can brush my teeth is by laying the toothbrush on the counter and moving my mouth back and forth over it. I believe I have a hernia in both pectorals. Driving was OK as long as I didn't try to steer or stop. I parked on top of a GEO in the club parking lot.

Christo was impatient with me, insisting that my screams bothered other club members. His voice is a little too perky for that early in the morning and when he scolds, he gets this nasally whine that is VERY annoying..

My chest hurt when I got on the treadmill, so Christo put me on the stair monster. Why the hell would anyone invent a machine to simulate an activity rendered obsolete by elevators? Christo told me it would help me get in shape and enjoy life. He said some other shit too.


THURSDAY:
Asshole was waiting for me with his vampire-like teeth exposed as his thin, cruel lips were pulled back in a full snarl. I couldn't help being a half an hour late - it took me that long to tie my shoes.

He took me to work out with dumbbells. When he was not looking, I ran and hid in the restroom. He sent some skinny bitch to find me.

Then, as punishment, he put me on the rowing machine -- which I sank.

FRIDAY:
I hate that bastard Christo more than any human being has ever hated any other human being in the history of the world. Stupid, skinny, anemic, anorexic little aerobic instructor. If there was a part of my body I could move without unbearable pain, I would beat him with it.

Christo wanted me to work on my triceps. I don't have any triceps! And if you don't want dents in the floor, don't hand me the damn barbells or anything that weighs more than a sandwich.

The treadmill flung me off and I landed on a health and nutrition teacher. Why couldn't it have been someone softer, like the drama coach or the choir director?


SATURDAY:
Satan left a message on my answering machine in his grating, shrilly voice wondering why I did not show up today. Just hearing his voice made me want to smash the machine with my planner; however, I lacked the strength to even use the TV remote and ended up catching eleven straight hours of the Weather Channel.

SUNDAY:
I'm having the Church van pick me up for services today so I can go and thank GOD that this week is over. I will also pray that next year my husband will choose a gift for me that is fun -- like a root canal or a hysterectomy. I still say if God had wanted me to bend over, he would have sprinkled the floor with diamonds!!!

For My Mama

Mom,
A few days before I left for school, you gave me a gold piece of paper. It read:

Reflections of a Mother

I gave you life,
but cannot live it for you.

I can give you directions,
but I cannot be there to lead you.

I can take you to church,
but I cannot make you believe.

I can teach you right from wrong,
but I cannot always decide for you.

I can buy you beautiful clothes,
but I cannot make you beautiful inside.

I can offer you advice,
but I cannot accept it for you.

I can give you love,
but I cannot force it upon you.

I can teach you to share,
but I cannot make you unselfish.

I can teach you respect,
but I cannot force you to show honor.

I can advise you about friends,
but cannot choose them for you.

I can advise you about sex,
but I cannot keep you pure.

I can tell you about alcohol & drugs,
but I can't say "No" for you.

I can tell you about lofty goals,
but I can't achieve them for you.

I can teach you about kindness,
but I can't force you to be gracious

I can pray for you,
but I cannot make you walk with God.

I can tell you how to live,
but I cannot give you eternal life.

I can love you with unconditional love all of
my life... and I will.

Love,
Mom

That piece of paper is magnetized to my desk, right above my computer, so that I may see it often and think of you. Though I think of you and how gracious I am to be yours, I have yet to respond to your sweet words. So I will now.

Reflections of a Daughter

You gave me life,
Thank you for patiently allowing me to live it my way, however messy it got

You gave me directions,
Thank you for supporting me even when I chose a different (wrong) path.

You took me to church,
Thank you for making sure I was there even when I said I didn't want to be; I'm glad I went.

You taught me right from wrong,
Thank you for sometimes allowing me to learn the hard way, and thus, truly learn.

You bought me beautiful clothes,
Thank you for reminding me that though I looked beautiful, it was my heart that counted.

You offered me advice,
Thank you for patiently repeating it several times when I refused to listen the first.

You gave me love,
Thank you for giving it even when I acted indifferent (I wasn't).

You taught me to share,
Thank you for so selflessly sharing with me.

You taught me respect,
Thank you for being such an easy person to honor.

You advised me about friends,
Thank you for lovingly reminding me of who I was when I tried to be someone else.

You advised me about sex,
Thank you for teaching me the value of purity, and trusting me to choose it on my own.

You told me about drugs and alcohol,
Thank you for allowing me to answer for myself.

You told me about lofty goals,
Thank you for supporting me in all of mine and encouraging me always to aim high.

You taught me about kindness,
Thank you for being my role model.

You prayed for me,
Thank you for teaching me to walk with Him.

You told me how to live,
Thank you, because I was able to choose eternal life.

You have loved me unconditionally and always will,
Thank you.

Because you first taught me to love, I can and will do the same.

I love you,
Claire

Happy Mother's Day, Mom.

The Coffee Stare

The infamous coffee stare incident easily made its way onto the list and has remained there with confidence ever since. The Webers had returned to Mexico for Spring Break once again, a place where all of us, Tammy being the exception, seem to fit in perfectly. This is not to say that she is not liked by the people. On the contrary, they all want to be her best friend; I assume this is because she is not your run of the mill Gringo. She will try her hardest, to little avail, to speak the language of the people, making sure to be friendly, asking all of them, "Como 'Sta?"
On this particular trip, eldest sister Amy joined us, bringing our ranks up to five, and it was our first stay in what Tammy calls "The El Tesoro." For those of you who aren't Spanish-inclined, that translates roughly into "The The Treasure." I will, however, give her credit for so smoothly befriending the hotel manager Ceasar (his name in Tammy-Spanish is "Sessarr") and getting us moved from our lame hotel room on the 13th floor into a pool-front villa. It appeared that this would be one of our best Mexican adventures thus far.
A few days into our trip, while on the beach, we happen across Angelo. Angelo has since earned himself a place on our list of crazy people that provide lots of entertainment. He is enthralled by our family and, after hearing that we are "true Tejanos" wants to hear all about our ranch and how many cows we have. We try several times to explain to him that we live in a house, and only see cows on our milk cartons, but he isn't buying it--he seems to think we are "pulling a trick" on him. After about three hours of painful, poorly translated small talk, we agree to take a fishing trip on Angelo's boat the next morning.
I am awoken by my alarm at 6:00 am and I am not happy about it. The rest of the family seems to be in agreement, Mom especially, who is running around throwing things into her massive basket that seems to get heavier every day we are there. The basket contains things we will need, things we might need, and things we will probably never need but just in case! We stop in the lobby of the hotel for last minute bathroom usage and coffee. And it begins.
The five of us shove ourselves into a Mexican taxi--take your average compact car and half it for the approximate size of these cars. Amy, Mom and I are in the backseat, McCall sits on Mom's lap bent over like a hunchback. I am miserable, but upon seeing McCall, say nothing. Somehow, Dad ends up in the front seat with plenty of space and is chatting it up with the cab driver. We drive on the edge of a mountain for about twenty minutes and at one point Mom's coffee is spilled down her shirt. She is not happy.
By the time we arrive at the dock to meet Angelo, I am concerned that we might be permanantly disfigured from the ways in which we've been sitting--excluding Dad of course. When we wedge out of the car Angelo is there waiting, all five of his teeth proudly displayed in a lovely smile. The first thing he notices, to my mother's utter horror, is the coffee down the front of her white tank top. "Tammy, are you hungover?" Mentally, I put Angelo atop my Idiot List. Meanwhile Tammy has moved from not happy to moderately annoyed. As she refills her coffee cup on the dock I assure her that she does not look hungover. We follow Angelo down the dock until we reach his boat, in which a tiny Mexican is scrambling around, preparing for takeoff. His name is Emilio and the boat belongs to him, not Angelo. In fact, Angelo will be leaving as soon as we are on our way. This is highly contradictory compared to what we were told on the beach, but we let it slide. In a moment of sheer stupidity, we decide that Tammy will board the boat first. The boat is several feet below the dock, so she will have to step down onto a seat and then to the floor from there. She consideres for a moment how she will step down that far; should she sit on the dock? Or just step quickly? She decides on the latter and begins her descent. Her foot hits the seat, leaving her with one foot down in the boat and one still up on the dock. At this moment a large swell comes up underneathe the boat, shifting it. The seat cushion moves, and Tammy flails head first in the boat. It is at this point in time that I notice she is still holding her cup of coffee in her right hand. The coffee raises up as she falls and shortly after douses her in the face. We all gasp and there is silence as we stare wide eyed at her on the floor of the boat covered in coffee. No one is sure what to do and this moment goes by extrememly slowly. She gets to her feet and turns around. There it is. The Coffee Stare. Her bangs are soaked in coffee and hang down in points on either side of her face, like wet devil horns. Her shoulders are tensed and hunched, also covered in coffee. She stares at us, her face a mixture of disbelief and rage. She is pissed. I am laughing so hard that I must sit down on the dock to avoid falling overboard.
At first Mom insisted that she wasn't going anywhere until she was able to take a shower, but we conviced her that there was no shower nearby and we had all gotten up and come out here so we might as well take the trip. McCall and I were first to fish and as I looked back Mom was leaned over the side of the boat splashing saltwater in her hair to try and get rid of the caffeine devil look.
The rest of the trip seemed uneventful after our morning, though we caught several fish that were cooked for us on an island where we snorkled and tanned. It turned out to be a fantastic trip. Later that night we played cards back in the villa and continued to wail in laughter at my mother's expense. By this time she had officially moved on and declared the moment funny, which meant that we were allowed to laugh, and laugh we did.
Several years have gone by, and our eyes still water at the thought of my mother turning around in Emilio's boat, giving us a look that nearly succeeded in killing us all. There is no question in my mind as to why the Mexicans love Tammy. Who doesn't?

Like You Have Loved Me

Oh, what a broken place this is. I find myself discouraged by just how hopeless the world seems to be. I walk around campus and my eyes fill with tears, not because the lack of belief is so clearly evident, but because I am such a part of it; in fact, I fit in perfectly. God calls us to stand out, to be disciples, and yet I seem to blend in to the gray faithlessness of the world more and more. I absolutely believe in Jesus, but it appears that I care nothing about sharing this faith with other people.
For a long time I believed that in order for me to share Jesus with other people, I had to first have my own stuff figured out. How lame of a cop-out is that. None of us are ever going to have our stuff together, so me using that excuse was synonymous with not following God's call simply because I didn't feel like it. God wants to use me to open the hearts of my brothers and sisters, but I don't feel like sharing him. Souls are at stake, but I don't really feel like it. Maybe Tomorrow. How disgusting.
I am fully aware of and humbled by the fact that God does not need me to do anything. My sharing his word with other people and talking to them about the God of the Universe is completely unnecessary to God. If he wanted to, he could think it and make someone believe. So I am utterly useless. But the incredible part is that he desires to use me! God wants to allow me to be a part of bringing his children to him; he wants to grow and mature me through missional living. What a beautiful and honoring privilege that I have so carelessly and insultingly ignored. Rather than sharing Jesus' truth with others I have allowed sin to dictate my actions. I have done what I wanted, when I wanted it.
How dare I treat God that way? He is my creator! He put air in my lungs and loved me before I even existed. So how dare I spit in his face by acting the way that I have.
Without pride, I make the assumption that I am not the only child of God who feels this way. So much of the time I think we take advantage of knowing that we are saved, that we're good...and forget that there is a world full of people around us who are hopelessly lost. Why do our hearts not break over this? Perhaps we don't understand the weight of the truth--those who are not saved are going to spend eternity in hell. Eternity. In hell. I think that many of us, as believers, need to step it up and practice what we preach, or rather share what has been preached to us by Jesus. My prayer is that we would feel a desperation for those around us; that our hearts would break for those who have not claimed Jesus as their one and only saviour. And that when our hearts do break, we would overflow with love for our brothers and sisters--the love that comes from a heart that is consumed with the Holy Sprit. I desire more than anything to bring pleasure to my Lord's face, as do all of us who understand what he has done for us. So what have we to fear? The king of the universe is on our side, remember?

Heal my heart and make it clean
Open up my eyes to the things unseen
Show me how to love like you have loved me
Break my heart from what breaks yours
Everything I am for your kingdoms cause
As I go from nothing to
Eternity
~Hosanna, Hillsong United

For Caitlin

Dear Caitlin,
Did you know that when baby twins are sick the nurses will put them together in one incubator because when they're together, they get better faster? I believe it. Though I never got the chance to know you in the way that we typically think knowing someone means. But I also don't feel that I can say I never knew you. I say this because every year on the day you left us I wake up feeling tired and sad and distant, and I wonder what on earth is wrong with me. Something causes me to become emotionally overwhelmed, and then it hits me; I remember. Today is your day. I miss you terribly without even realizing it, so how could I possibly not have known you?
Mom says that we used to talk to each other. A coo would come from one crib, waiting to be answered by the other. I still talk to you often, and though I can't hear your soft replies anymore, I feel them. Your presence in my life is unmistakable. I ask you questions, some that I'm scared to know the answers to. Are you proud of me; of who I've become? Do you miss me? Do you think we'd still look just like each other, at nineteen? How did I get so lucky?
Sometimes when I see a pair of twins I become envious, wondering why it was that you had to leave me so early. But luckily God is incredible and sovereign, and you, sweet sister, are one of his precious babies! I don't understand it, but I trust that Jesus has this, and I find joy in knowing that everything that happens in this life happens for a specific purpose. A loving and all-powerful purpose. And you are no exception.
So, dear sister, know that I think of you often, and I miss you tremendously. I thank God for the two months that you were with us; for the joy that you brought our family in the time that you were allotted. I can't wait to see how your little story is used to touch lives and bring glory to our creator. In fact, it already has.
I love you Caitlin, and you will always have your reserved spot in my heart.
Your sister,
Claire

To My Future Husband

You don't know yet what you've gotten yourself into by marrying me--I admire you, brave soul! No but seriously, I will do my best to be a wonderful wife to you and I can't wait for our life together to begin...and I can say with confidence that neither can my mother.  She will be so relieved when we settle down together.  

I am praying that God continues to show you new and wonderful things about himself daily, and that your heart would belong to him always.  May you seek unswervingly to serve him and bring him glory. 

Thank you in advance for loving me.  I can be a very difficult person to love, but know that I cherish you and will give you all of me and love you to the best of my ability. 

I cannot wait to meet you.  I long for the day, in fact.  I wonder if you've thought of me yet?  Are we unknowingly walking around the same campus every day?  

I promise to be your best friend; to support you and love you and serve you the way that Jesus would have me do so.  I promise to be faithful and honest with you.  I promise to laugh at myself.  I'll even watch football with you if you promise to watch my dumb shows with me.  I promise to put only Jesus before you.  I promise to learn how to cook one decent meal, if you will, too--that way we'll have some variety.  I promise to give you my whole heart, leaving nothing out.  

I want to laugh with you; to spend time with you doing nothing of importance. I want to help carry your burdens in times of pain, and dance with you in times of joy.  I want to raise babies with you; to grow old together.  

Though sometimes I wish we had already met, I am thankful that the Lord's timing is perfect and I will meet you exactly when I am supposed to.  So for now, know that I am thinking of you. I love you. 

And What Might This Be?

I took an ink blot test on Wednesday. Before you jump to conclusions and assume I've gone off the deep end and been locked away somewhere, let me just say that I did it to get extra credit in my psychology of the offender course. See, if we volunteer to participate in studies that the psychology graduate students do, we can earn extra credit in our psych classes! It's brilliant, really.
Anyway, I volunteered to help out a grad student who was the TA in one of my classes last semester. His name is Jacob and he's very nice (Unfortunately he's married). Jacob needs me to come see him twice and take some routine psychological tests so that he can practice administering them in order to get his degree. Wednesday was my first visit and it proved to be quite interesting. I met him in the psychology clinic at Terrill Hall and he took me into big room with a nice couch, and we began the first part of the testing.
Ok, Claire, first of all, this test is completely anonymous and it's only being used for teaching purposes. Thanks so much for helping me out. I'll need to ask you some routine questions about your background and medical history. Is that ok?

Sure.

Alright. Has anyone in your family ever had a nervous breakdown?

Not one that was ever diagnosed. Hahaha. Oh. Sorry. Um, no.

Any mental retardation in your family?

Nope.

Is there any mental illness?

(I pause for a second and wonder if I should launch into the details of my extended families. Either side of the family would be quite a field day for someone like Jacob) Mmm, no. We're all pretty normal. (I picture my mother's reaction to this and laugh out loud.) Sorry. We're normal. I promise.

At this point Jacob is probably already questioning whether or not he should trust my answers. I made a joke about one question and then randomly laughed out loud during another one. He assured me there was no reason to be nervous, that he wasn't analyzing me. Good to know, Jacob.
After some more boring questions about my performance in school and my social life, we move on to the ink blot test. The official name for this test is the Rorschach Ink Blot Test. There are ten official inkblots. Five inkblots are black ink on white paper. Two are black and red ink on white paper. Three are multicolored. After the individual has seen and responded to all the inkblots, the tester then gives them to him again one at a time to study. The test subject is asked to note where he sees what he originally saw and what makes it look like that. The blot can also be rotated. As the subject is examining the inkblots, the psychologist writes down everything the subject says or does, no matter how trivial.
Now that you know how the test is administered, I can tell you just how awkard yet hilarious this experience was. Every time Jacob handed me a card, he would say And what might this be? It was very difficult for me to keep a straight face. I wanted to use my British accent and say Hmm, yes, quite a quandary this is. What might that be? But I didn't. I took the card from him and stared at the blot. At first I didn't see anything, which made me concerned, so I had a little internal conversation with myself before proceeding.

Should I see something? This only looks like an inkblot to me! Oh my God I'm going to fail the inkblot test. Ok, Claire, be cool. Flip the card over. Maybe then it'll come...

A monster.

Great. A monster? Really? Surely that can't be a good answer. Do better on the next card.

A crab.
A bowl with something sticking out of it.
Oh, that's a bat.
A fountain.
A skyscraper between two cliffs. Duh.
Seahorses.
An angry face. Chuckle.

By the end of the test I felt I'd quite gotten the hang of it. All I had to do was tell Jacob what the blot looked like to me and hand him back the card!

Jacob: Alrighty, Claire, that was perfect. Now here's what we're going to do. We're going to go back through the cards and I'm going to read your answers back to you. I need you to show me on the card where you saw what you did, ok?

Uh oh. I have to explain my answers? Great. He isn't going to see them the way I saw them and then I'm going to fail the inkblot test.

Well, as it turns out, I passed (Everyone passes. It's impossible to fail the inkblot test, though you could come out with unfavorable results. Like being crazy). I was able to convince Jacob of all but the crab. He just couldn't see the crab. I tried. I gestured and I outlined and I told him to squint, but he still couldn't see my crab. But, I figure nine out of ten isn't too bad. Jacob tells me that I am a wonderful test subject and that he'll email my teacher about my extra credit and call me in a couple weeks for my MMPI test.

That's a check yes or no test, and I think I'm better at those. I just can't wait.

And That's My Final Answer

Last night I had to go back to the sorority house for a meeting that I was told would officially cancel my membership in the sorority. I thought I'd already done this, but I showed up anyway. The adviser and the other girls who were in the meeting with me tried for fifteen minutes to convince me to stay in and give it one more shot. Obviously, my mind was already made up, and I apologized and said that I wasn't going to be coming back. The adviser explained that they had recognized some of the problems within the sorority and that they were working on it and that I shouldn't take this decision lightly. Duh. Then the other one said this: "And I mean, you have such a great voice. We'd really hate to lose that."
Seriously?
The only reason this girl gave for wanting me to stick around was the fact that I can sing. They talk about how they stand for good character and integrity and sisterhood, yet they guilt tripped me the entire time, and made it seem like the only reason they even wanted me to come back at all was because I could sing. Well that, and it makes the sorority look bad to have people leave. That meeting solidified my earlier decision to leave.
Although I'm annoyed at how things were handled by the sorority, I'm relieved to be done with everything. I've left the building, and I've taken my great voice with me.

Jenga

We bow our hearts, we bend our knees
Oh, Spirit, come make us humble.
We turn our eyes from evil things,
Oh, Lord, we cast down our idols.

Give us clean hands, give us pure hearts
Let us not lift our souls to another.
Give us clean hands, give us pure hearts
Let us not lift our souls to another.

Oh, God let us be a generation that seeks,
That seeks your face, Oh God of Jacob.

We sang this song during a worship service I went to last night and it's been on my mind ever since. I've always loved this song, but today it bears a new significance in my mind. Really the one line "we cast down our idols" is what my focus has been on.
I have been so convicted lately of the things that I put before the Lord on a daily basis. For a while I let my list of idols stack up and stack up until I had this massive pile of things that were starting to block my view of the Lord completely. He let this go on for a while, allowing me to pick things up and move them around, only to move them again a short while later; it was an ongoing balancing act between me and my stuff.
When the time was right, God came in and simply nudged my pile, sending the whole thing crashing to the ground, my concerns and secrets flying about every which way. What are you doing?! Do you know how hard it is for me to keep everything just where it's supposed to be?! I lashed out, furious at him for what he'd done, and began trying to scrounge everything back up thinking that it would take me forever to get everything put back in its place.
He lifted my chin so that I was facing him. Claire. Of course I know how hard you've worked to keep all this together. But don't you see you're wasting your time? You've missed the mark entirely on this one.
God was trying to explain to me that rather than continue this balancing act I had going on, all I needed to do was forget about all of it and let it fall where it may. I was so focused on my pile of idols that I was starting to lose sight of what was really important in my life.
So here we are, Jesus and I, sorting through this jumbled pile of things. He tells me which things stay and which things have to go. Sometimes I argue with him and clamp onto something, refusing to let him have it. He is patient, and reminds me of who I am and what I really need. Slowly, my grip loosens and I hand it over.
The pile has begun to dwindle, and sometimes this makes me extremely nervous. But it has also brought a sense of peace, for which I am grateful. My pile and I must become smaller, so that Jesus can become larger. That is my goal.

Holy Showers

Sometimes when I'm in the shower, as the water runs over me and rinses the impurities from my body, I imagine the water flowing inside me and washing clean my heart and mind as well. I picture the water taking away the dirt and making me white and pure as snow. But imagination will only take me so far. No shower will ever make me fully clean--it will only rinse my physical body and give me the illusion of cleanliness, while on the inside I am still filthy. When I walk around like this I feel transparent, as if people are able to see straight through my seemingly pure outside and into the dirt and grime that coats my insides. And I am so ashamed.
The shame I feel is immense. It is consuming and overwhelming.
While I am still standing under the water, I remember that because of Jesus, I have no real need for this water--it's cleansing properties are only symbolic. It does nothing. All that is required of me is to ask, and I will be made clean; I will be pure. Shame has no place here.
Why can't I seem to remember this except for when I'm in the shower?
I think we as believers sometimes forget that we need to be washed in the blood of Christ daily, if not hourly, or even by the minute. Rather than repenting when we mess up and starting over then and there, we sometimes think well, today is shot. Maybe tomorrow. But we aren't called to live like this at all! We are commanded to repent, accept that we are forgiven, and take up our cross once again. This, however, does not make it acceptable to live in habitual sin. What I mean is, we cannot have a mindset that says, I know this is wrong, but I'm going to do it anyway, and then I'll ask for forgiveness later and start over...until I decide to do it again.
This is arrogance in its truest form. When we repent for the sake of repenting we are missing the point entirely. We should be filled with remorse over our sin. When we repent while knowing in the back of our minds that we plan on committing the same transgression again, it can be said that we are taking pride in this particular sin. In fact, chapter 5 of 1 Corinthians says that those who live like this should be "cast out from among you." If the church is aware that a member of its body is living in habitual sin without remorse, he should be excluded from the body, rather than having his sins looked over. Now, I am not saying that anyone who commits a certain sin more than once should not be allowed into the church. If a person is truly repentant and desires to change and seek holiness, of course he should be welcomed. We all struggle with specific sins, and we all fall short of grace, but what separates us is how we handle this. We cannot allow ourselves to simply live in sin, or to condone our brothers and sisters who do so.
Satan is sneaky and a great deceiver--he will target our weaknesses and use them against us to the best of his ability. Because of this, we have to continually allow Christ to wash over us and shield us from Satan's cunning. When we decide that the day is ruined because we messed up, we are letting Satan win. It's that simple. When we distance ourselves from God because we have sinned, we leave ourselves unprotected and at the mercy of Satan's games.
Suppose I wake up in the morning and take a shower. I step out of the shower clean and refreshed, ready to start the day. If, as I step out the door, I trip and fall into a puddle of mud, am I going to think 'well, too bad. I already took my shower. I suppose I'll wait until tomorrow and see if I can stay clean then'? Of course not! If I'm falling in mud you can be sure that I am marching right back to my room and taking another shower. Just as we pay attention to our outward cleanliness, we must also be aware of the state of our hearts. When something happens and our heart gets dirty, we have to take a "holy shower," if you will. What I mean is, we have to communicate with Jesus and ask and allow him to come in and make us clean again. We can do this as many times in a day as we need to, so why would we not? Why would we walk around dirty, when we have the option to be purified?
Don't let me fool you into thinking that I write this out of experience. I happen to be fantastic at allowing one mistake to ruin my entire day. But Jesus has faithfully made me aware of this pitfall, and I am learning that I must be diligent in my communication with him. He wants nothing more than for us to take him with us wherever we go. But when we allow a sin to consume us and fill us with shame, we might as well be leaving Jesus at the doorstep and saying Sorry, you can't come in here right now. Everything is a huge mess. Come back tomorrow. Do you see the irony in this? We want Jesus to wait outside while we clean things up, while he is the only one who knows where everything goes!
My prayer is that we, as his body, would be diligent in letting Christ wash over us throughout the day, and that we would not allow sin to discourage us, but rather accept that we are forgiven and receive that. I pray that we would not allow our pride to disable us; that we would clothe ourselves in humility and walk in righteousness.
Remember that when you feel filthy, the answer is as simple as a holy shower.

Lord, I want more of you.
Living water, rain down on me.
Lord, I need more of you.
Living breath of life, come fill me up.
--Shane Bernard, We Are Hungry--

Fixed Mistakes and Second Chances

It's just not for me.
Sorority life, I mean. It isn't my thing, and perhaps if I'm honest with myself, I was never supposed to be in a sorority in the first place. No one was really surprised when they found out I'd decided to give up my membership in Alpha Delta Pi, although it seemed rather sudden. I just walked in and quit on Thursday afternoon. I was done. Funny how even when we make mistakes, God is able to use those mistakes for good and fit them right back into the plan, as if no mistake was ever made.
When I came here to college, Jesus and I weren't exactly on speaking terms. I won't say I was angry with him, because truth is I wasn't; I had simply chosen to ignore him altogether. So when rush started the day after orientation, I jumped right in. There was no harm in seeing what it was all about, right? I could back out any time I wanted. No pressure. However true those statements might have been, it didn't feel that way at the time. I felt like this was my only opportunity to meet people and get plugged in; it was a way for me to make my mom proud of me--my mom IS proud of me, but for some reason I am constantly looking for ways anyway; it was my chance to fit in and feel welcomed. So I stopped thinking and dove in head first. I converse with ease and am able to get along with diverse groups of people. The sororities all seemed to like me. Somehow I felt fake; talking to these girls was exhausting and not what I had anticipated. Three days later I received my bid from Alpha Delta Pi, and accepted it with a smile.
Bid day was fun, and there was laughter among the sorority, as the girls in the new pledge class were brought into the house and introduced to their new sisters. I laughed along with the rest of them, perhaps I laughed even louder. I seemed to fit in just fine, and this was what I had longed for all along. Yet, still, something felt off.
I began the balancing act of making meetings, events, and parties as well as attending my three hour night classes. Perhaps this wouldn't have been such a challenge for me had I not been hurting so on the inside. Some days getting out of bed was difficult, and attending a cocktail party seemed horrifying and impossible. I made all of the mandatory parties but one, and the one I missed was due to a class.
Once the craze of initiation and starting school slowed down, things seemed to be more manageable. Things with the sorority, I mean. My life seemed to become more unmanageable every day. On Monday nights I had sorority meetings, and this time spent with the girls was stressful and tiresome. I couldn't believe the way that the girls treated and talked about each other, much less that they actually thought their behavior was ok. I figured that they talked about me, too, when I wasn't around. The feeling of belonging had dissolved entirely. I still attended meetings and was sociable, but began to feel more and more that I didn't need to be there. I stuck it out through the semester, and was relieved when our meetings stopped for the break.
Over the break I couldn't take things the way they were anymore and finally allowed God to have my undivided attention. The Lord blessed me incredibly for this, while what I deserved was to be cast away and forgotten about. I began to seek him throughout the day and ask him to show me his will for my life, seeing as mine was failing pretty miserably. God was absolutely faithful in this, and I realized that when I went back to school, changes would have to be made and I was to get involved in a church and find a community in which I felt genuinely welcomed and loved. I wasn't sure what I would do about the sorority yet but I planned on taking things one step at a time--I trusted that he would show me what to do, and he most certainly did.
The week classes started back, so did Alpha Delta Pi's spring rush period. This meant that every day that week we would be required to attend parties at the sorority house talking to and rating new prospects. I only made it through one night. I felt deflated and discouraged when I got home--there was no building people up at the house, but rather arguments and harsh words between the girls as they disagreed over who to invite back to the second rush party. This was it. I prayed to the Lord and told him that if I was supposed to stay in the sorority I would, and asked him, if this was the case, to help me get through it because I didn't think I would be able to. Get Out, was all he said.
The next day I walked to the house, resigned my membership, and left. Though the decision was an emotional one as I felt I was letting people down by simply quitting, I felt and still feel confident that it was what God had called me to do, and I am thankful to Him for not only teaching me about myself in spite of a choice I made without his approval, but also for rescuing me from it.
The evening I quit the sorority I wasn't sure what to do with myself, and then I remembered that I had looked into a bible study earlier in the week--it was starting in an hour. I took a shower, grabbed my bible, and left. Only when I got to the door of the house in which the group meets did I realize that I didn't know a soul there and I would have to walk in alone. I have never felt more welcomed by a group of strangers in my life. These girls treated me as if they'd known me for years. How the Lord will bless us when we allow him to do so!

I cannot wait to see what God does with my life this semester; how he changes me, molds me, and heals me. There is much work to be done, and I have already slipped a few times, but for once I am reaching out and asking God to carry me through this. I've seen what it looks like without his involvement, and it's pretty bleak. I need to be healed and redeemed and I have finally realized that he is the only one who can do this. Not only is he capable, but he wants to! God wants to bring me out of this, though I deserve to sit and fester in the pit I've dug. I trust that I will be taught a lot this semester about who the Lord is and what he can do--I look forward to it with great anticipation.

Heal my heart and make it clean
Open up my eyes to the things unseen
Show me how to love like you have loved me
Break my heart from what breaks yours
Everything I am for your kingdoms cause
As I go from nothing to Eternity
-Hosanna, Hillsong United-

Goldfish and Added Resolutions

In reference to my last post, where I listed several of my resolutions for the new year, I listed Number 5 as "keep Tobias alive". Well. Unfortunately, to my dismay, Tobias passed away shortly after I wrote that. While I am aware that I can be rather hard on myself, losing a fish in less than 24 hours made me feel like a complete failure. I felt terrible because I thought that if I'd never bought him, he would still be alive. But I am moving passed this in hopes that Tobias new I tried my hardest to keep him healthy and forgives me for failing at that.
I am convinced that Tobias died of Ammonia poisoning. I looked up the symptoms of this after having read about it on a forum and they are as follows:

1. Purple, red, or bleeding gills
   
2. Fish may clamp, may appear darker in color
3. Red streaking on the fins or body
4. Fish may gasp for air at the surface of the tank water
5. Torn & jagged fins

Well, Tobias' gills were quite red and he was definitely gasping for air at the surface of his bowl (I thought he was just looking for food!). A few minutes after he died he had purple marks on him from internal bleeding. This was the huge red flag. I felt terrible about what happened to Tobias, but was determined to keep a fish alive, happy and healthy!
So I read up on Ammonia poisoning and also on how to take care of a goldfish--I thought it might be better to know this time before I got the fish. Everything I read said that goldfish bowls are a common misconception; that is, a bowl is actually not a good place to house a goldfish. They are too small and without filters the water gets dirty and can make the fish sick. There is also less oxygen available to the fish because of the small opening in the bowl. And simply put, the fish needs more area to swim in than that offered by a fishbowl.
I felt new hope after reading this that, perhaps if I had a proper tank with a light and filter my fish would live better. So today I went to Walmart and found a perfect little 5 gallon tank that came with a filter, light, water purifier, and food for only twenty dollars! I also got some aquatic plants for the tank so that they'll help provide extra oxygen when they grow. Then I was off to Petsmart to find a new fish, that would hopefully come home with me and enjoy a happy life. Well, the employee in the fish department told me that the fish might be happier with a buddy, which is how I ended up with my two new goldfish, Chaya and Chael.
Setting up the tank was quite simple; the filter has little suction cups on it and all I had to do was stick it to the inside of the take. Actually the little hum sound it makes is quite comforting. It has a nice blue light that shines into the tank and soothes the fish. The plants are only bulbs at the bottom of the tank right now, and I'm excited for them to grow because they are supposed to get pink and white blossoms on them! How pretty will that be for Chaya and Chael--they better appreciate them. The two have been in their new tank for about six hours now and so far, so good. I'm keeping my fingers crossed. I won't be convinced that they're really ok and healthy until they've been alive for at least a week. I am embarrassed to admit that the longest time I have ever kept a fish alive is two days. I don't know what the deal is! But this time will be different. I am determined that Chael and Chaya will live long, happy lives. Unless of course something out of my control happens, in which case I will not take the blame. But let's just hope that doesn't happen.

Anyway, in addition to my new resolution to keep Chael and Chaya healthy, I've thought of a few more for my list:

16. Cell phone should be turned off during class--no exceptions
17. Pay close attention to budget and reconcile it online monthly
18. Work on loving all of God's people the way He does...regardless of how I feel about them
19. Be a better friend to the friends I already have

Resolutions (in no particular order)

1. Only one cup of coffee a day
2. Achieve a 4.0 in school
3. Regularly attend church and bible study
4. Look for beauty in the little things
5. Keep Tobias alive
6. Make an effort to meet new people
7. Work out at least 4 days a week
8. Spend less money
9. Drink more water and less soda
10. Get more sun
11. Wear my hair down more often
12. Eat regularly and healthily
13. Be more involved with the sorority
14. Journal more
15. Get a boyfriend...?

Hear My Cry

Lord,
I can't begin to express the emotional agony that I feel right now. I wish there was another option, but I understand that there is not, and I will obey what you desire of me. But Lord, there is a gaping wound on my heart! Please Father, I beg you to begin to fill the hole that has taken the place of my heart. I need you. I need you! I trust that you know what you're doing, but God I am hurting so immensely right now, I can't even see straight. I miss her. So please, begin the healing process now, Lord. Fill me with you. Make me dependent on you alone. Be my one desire. Send me some people who can support me and hold me accountable. I am broken and you alone can put me back together. So please do so, Lord. I trust you. I love you. Please, hear my cry.

My Heart Belongs to Thee

I find myself extremely frustrated right now. Sometimes I don't understand other peoples' actions or the thoughts that lead to them in the first place. All I know is my own heart and my own thoughts, and though my track record isn't a fantastic one, I am trying to make sure that my actions are carefully considered beforehand and glorifying to God.
Today I was challenged--my thoughts and actions were both challenged. I felt that I was inaccurately judged and became very angry. I felt an intense need to defend myself to this person, but I also felt that doing so would not help anything. God is teaching me that he is to be the only one that I aim to please, and that I am to work to bring him glory, by loving him first and his people second.
I was also forced to think about the impression that I give off to other people, and I realize that I need to make some changes. Sometimes I feel that, while we are called to carry each others' burdens, we as humans aren't very good at it. We grow tired of hearing the complaints and sorrows and lamentations and hurts of other people. After a while we become short with each other and want those with issues to "snap out of it" or "get over it." Some are more patient than others with this type of thing (I know that what I say is true because I was raised to have a "no pain, no gain" mentality and have a very hard time being patient and empathizing with others). So where is the line between sharing one's heart with others and allowing our struggles to be kept between only us and God?
God knows my heart, which means he knows that I do my best to trust that his timing is perfect regardless of how I feel about it. He is also aware of my heart and its hurts, joys, and deepest desires.
I've realized that I have to be careful with how much I share with other people; not in an attempt to be dishonest or deceiving, but rather as a way to make sure that I am not depending on anyone but God to fulfill me and have the answers that I am looking for. Sharing too much can complicate things and I've had to learn that the hard way. Even when people have the best of intentions, they're only human, and therefore aren't capable of fully understanding another person's heart the way our Creator does. As a result they make inaccurate assumptions about what others are thinking and feeling. Because we are all prone to these mistakes in judgment, we must all be aware of what we are sharing with other people and how our actions are being perceived by others.
I think my mistake was looking to people for comfort rather than praying and letting God know what was going on and allowing him to take care of me. Being comforted by other people is not wrong, but when one is depending upon them alone for comfort and reassurance it becomes a problem. I was letting God in on what was going on, but I wasn't doing a good job of being in his word and allowing him to comfort me and bring me peace.
So, here is yet another goal I have: to find solace in God alone, to remember that I am answerable to him alone, to empathize with and love his children to the best of my ability; and to share my struggles with my brothers and sisters with care, making sure that I am clear and striving to bring glory to God and not myself.

Social Butterfly? Not So Much.

While I am very ready to go back to school, to the dorm room that has become my home, and resume my routine, I have found myself rather discouraged and overwhelmed by what awaits me there. Or rather, what doesn't await me. I've been asked questions about school and my classes and my sorority countless times, by friends, parents of friends, relatives, everyone. My answer is always a variation of "School is great. I'm really enjoying it. I'm very happy there." It's not that this answer isn't true--I do enjoy school, and I am happy at UNT--I've simply left out part of the truth. When I answer their questions I leave out the part about how I'm lonely; how I spent most of the last semester alone in my room. The hard part for me is that I enjoy being alone. Of course I get lonely sometimes, but on the whole, I am ok with spending the majority of my time alone. Now, I say this is the hard part because, while I don't mind the solitary, I need to get connected, to make friends where I am and find a community of people that will support me and help me grow.
This next semester I plan on doing exactly that. I have no doubt that it will be difficult to leave my comfort zone and meet new people, but I feel that it's something I have to do. If I'm going to serve God and love him, I must also love the people around me, for they are his children, as am I. I have to learn to invest in other peoples' lives. God is teaching me so many things; I feel that if I share these teachings with other people, they might also be enriched and encouraged. I long to know the hearts of the people around me; I desire to invest in them, to have an impact on their lives in the name of Jesus, that he would use me to reach other people. But I don't know how this will ever be a possibility if I stay in my room, sharing my thoughts only on paper.
So, this being said, my goal for this next semester is to spend time with the people around me. To meet some classmates and join a study group; to spend time with my sorority sisters and support them in their endeavors; to cherish these last months that I'm living with Liz and use them to learn her heart and be an encouragement to her.
I don't think it'll be easy at all. But I do think that God desires me to do this, and my prayer is that ultimately I will bring him glory in doing so.
Whew. Here I go.

Psalm 139

Lord, you have searched me and known me. You know when I sit down and when I stand up; you understand my thoughts from far away. You observe my travels and my rest; you are aware of all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue, you know all about it, Lord. You have encircled me; you have laced your hand on me. This extraordinary knowledge is beyond me. It is lofty; I am unable to reach it.
Where can I go to escape your spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to heaven, you are there; if I make my bed in Sheol, you are there. If I live at the eastern horizon or settle at the western limits, even there your hand will lead me; your right hand will hold on to me. If i say, "Surely the darkness will hid me, and the light around me will become night"--even the darkness is not night to you. The night shines like the day; darkness and light are alike to you.
For it was you who created my inward parts; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I will praise you, because I have been remarkably and wonderfully made. Your works are wonderful, and I know this very well. My bones were not hidden from you when I was made in secret, when I was formed in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw me when I was formless; all my days were written in your book and planned before a single one of them began.
God, how difficult your thoughts are for me to comprehend; how vast their sum is! If I counted them, they would outnumber the grains of sand; when I wake up, I am still with you.
God, if only you would kill the wicked--you bloodthirsty men, stay away from me--who invoke you deceitfully. Your enemies swear by you falsely. Lord don't I hate those who hate you, and detest those who rebel against you? I hate them with extreme hatred; I consider them my enemies.
Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my concerns. See if there is any offensive way in me; lead me in the everlasting way."
Psalm 139

The bold part of this scripture is verse fifteen of the psalm. In another translation, the verse reads like this: "my bones were not hidden from you, when I was made in secret and sewed together in the depths of the earth. " This is the verse that I'm focused on right now. The notion that I am here for a specific purpose, that I am not sitting in this chair by accident, is a wonderful one that I take great comfort in.
So often I get distracted and lose sight of my goal. I forget what I'm supposed to be focused on. I've realized that the I am happiest when my eyes are set above, on the one who not only knows my future, but planned it out specifically for me. I need God to tell me who I am, so when I forget to look to him, I ultimately lose sight of myself--this only leads to sadness, confusion, frustration, and stagnation. The world is a maze, and without instruction from the one who can see the entire thing at once, making one's way is extremely difficult, if not impossible.
I put a piece of thread around my wrist so that I will be reminded when I see it that I am not a mistake; that the God of the universe sewed my body together with his own two hands. I pray that I will be reminded that, like the piece of thread, I am only a small part of something much larger than myself. I am a part of God's story, a member of his family. And thankfully, I am not in charge of my own life--I tried to be for a while and nothing good came from that; only hurt.
To the best of my ability, I am putting my faith in God, trusting that he knows what's best for me and will fulfill that in my life if I let him. It's just that...sometimes it's so hard to be patient and not take things into my own hands. While I know this solution is destined to fail 100% of the time, yet it is tempting, nevertheless. Sometimes I get tired of waiting for the things that I so desire--if avoiding temptation was easy, we as humans wouldn't be in this mess that we've found ourselves in. So I'm praying that the Lord will make me steadfast, so that I may be faithful and allow him to have my whole heart and my entire life.
There is one thing that I am certain of--his plans are better than mine.

Not Your Typical Game of Hide and Seek

"If God never did anything else for you, he would still deserve your continual praise for the rest of your life because of what Jesus did for you on the cross. God's son died for you! This is the greatest reason for worship."

I wonder where we got the idea that we deserve the things that we have.

It has been said that if you can read, you are among the rich; and if you can afford to buy a book to read, you are among the richest in the world. In 2006, Books-A-Million made $520 million on book sales in the United States. How dare we complain?

The quote above comes from Rick Warren's devotional The Purpose Driven Life. Reading the book has given me lots of new things to think about. One thing that Warren talks about is the presence of God. Sometimes God intentionally hides himself from us for the purpose of testing and maturing our relationship with him. While he promises that he will never leave us, God desires faith from us, whether we feel him near or not.

Sometime during my senior year of high school God began to distance himself from me. I believe he was testing me, and I realize now that I didn't exactly pass with flying colors. When I ceased to feel the Lord's presence, I became angry and confused and scared. It isn't that God can't handle these emotions from us, because he can. The problem was that I was dependent on my feelings rather than my faith. In other words, I didn't feel God, so I began to doubt his presence all together. Selfishly, I wanted to God to make it obvious that he was with me and when it wasn't so obvious anymore I said 'forget it'.

Perhaps God knew that the only way I was going to learn the true meaning of faith was if I spent over a year doing things my way--hence the pit I'm currently making my way out of, by the grace of God. The past year without the Lord's direction was miserable. I allowed Satan to latch onto my weaknesses and take full advantage of them, wreaking havoc upon every aspect of who I was. Demons from my past came flying back at me with frightening force. I began making terrible choices and all of my relationships suffered because of them. Occasionally God would make himself known to me, and I would rejoice and praise him in relief...until he left again. Every time he backed off again I dug a little more desperately and sunk a little deeper. He reassured me that he was faithful countless times, to no avail. I'm sure it pained him to know that I was going to have to learn this lesson the hard way.

We are given a perfect example of what true faith in the Lord looks like in the life of Job. Considered the greatest man in the East, Job lived comfortably in the country of Uz with his wife, ten children, and large estate. One day the Lord spotted Satan among Job's sons. When God expressed pleasure at the glory that Job's life brought to him, the evil one said of course he worships you! Look at all his wealth! He has nothing to be afraid of; nothing has tested his faith. I assure you that if you strike down his possessions, Job will curse you to your face.

So God gave all of Job's possessions over to Satan under the condition that he leave Job himself alone. So it came to be--in the course of one day Job lost everything: his children, his wife, his livestock, his servants. He was left with nothing. While Job's losses and his suffering were great, his response to it all was much greater.

"Naked I came from my mother's womb,
and naked I will leave this life.
The Lord gives, and the Lord takes away.
Praise the name of the Lord."

This isn't to say that Job wasn't angry and heartbroken, confused and lonely--of course he was--but in spite of his feelings, he remained faithful to the Lord, praising his name all the while. God rewarded Job for his faith and integrity by later multiplying his wealth and surrounding him with family members who would comfort and uplift him. What an incredible display of faith on Job's part and faithfulness on God's!

So back to Rick Warren's quote at the beginning. God doesn't owe us anything. We, on the other hand, have him to thank for our very lives. I am fortunate enough to be able to write these words, and you are fortunate to have the ability to read them. However, even if we had absolutely nothing, God would still deserve our worship nonetheless. He did his part by becoming human and dying on our behalf. He gave us this life, and it is our job to have faith that he is who he says he is, regardless of whether we feel his presence or not.

"Therefore, since we also have such a large cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us lay aside every weight and the sin that so easily ensnares us, and run with endurance the race that lies before us, keeping our eyes on Jesus, the source and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that lay before Him endured a cross and despised the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of God's throne."
Hebrews 12: 1-2