Feeding Time

He swims beneath the algae to get a closer look at the castle The rocks are bright pink, her favorite color Timidly he approaches the drawbridge and begins to nibble Stone. Crap. He always forgot. Turning to his left he sees a pair of blue eyes staring right at him Through the glass Mascara running down her face Trails of salty tears She whispers softly “Other fish in the sea…but just one in the bowl” He smiles warmly wishing he could swim in her tears But he is a freshwater fish She sprinkles the food into the bowl Watching as it floats along the surface He allows himself to rise to the top Hoping to feel her hand glide along his back Knowing he never will ‘Maybe if I kiss her, she’ll turn into a fish And we can live in my castle Forever.’ He nibbles the drawbridge once more Stone.

Dear Colleen

Another relevant find.... Saturday Nov. 27th, 2004 2:10pm Dear Colleen, I write you today, instead of God, Himself, because I know what God hears in your heart and that writing a letter to Him is entirely unnecessary. However, I see that you could use a letter of encouragement. This is not to barrade you, or ask why you are who you are and make the decisions that you make. This is a letter of the here and now - not revisiting old decisions that have long since passed and by the mercy and grace of God have been forgiven. I see the path your mind is taking you on in this moment and I'm writing this letter to you to turn it around. They are satan's lies - you should not be ashamed or afraid. Don't even give him the satisfaction of entertaining such notions. Rather, reflect on God's love, forever. No one can take that away from you. You are eternal, but only through the grace of Jesus Christ. Reflect on that and the words of Christ. You are His friend. God wants you to be happy - not ashamed. You can break the cycle here and now - but you have to believe it's possible. It is easy to get wrapped up in things of this world - you're not the only one who has given in or stepped away. Repent and search again for God's way, and you will find happiness there. Expose and admitt your mistakes to God, but do not dwell on them. Sin gives birth to sin. Love gives birth to peace and casts out fear. You are weak - but that is not a fault - God's power is made perfect in your weakness. God's power is perfect - so you are weak. Satan will try and try - he will never give up because he knows the war is lost - so he will try to win every battle he can. He will lose. God has won and God has chosen you. You have a tender, sensitive heart and people will make you feel like that is wrong. Keep listening for God's word - He speaks to you - speaks peace into your heart. Keep talking about God's love. Keep showing others what it is through your life. Keep admitting and exposing mistakes and sin, repenting and forgiving yourself after you know God has forgiven you. Go through each day picking out a mistake from the day before and giving it to God without replacing it with a new one. You are not the bad person that you so often think you are. You are loved by those in Heaven and by some here on Earth. Surround yourself with love every day. You are a work in progress, and nobody knows that better than you. Don't forget to rest sometimes. I don't mean physically. Don't forget to give yourself a break sometimes. You are a good person - you are on the right track most of the time. Don't forget to enjoy God's blessings. Just breathe, and don't judge yourself for it. It's all about balance - mind, body, soul, and other people. Heaven will be great, but every day you're on this earth can be great, too. It's just a matter of perspective. Keep God in front, let Him do the hard stuff - He wants to, and He's good at it! He loves you. God did not have time to make a nobody - He did not have time to save a nobody. To God you are somebody. You are somebody to me, too. Keep going out there and being somebody to everyone you meet and God will be there. Love, Colleen

Keep it.

He refilled her wine glass, took the five dollar bill she had set down, and brought it to the cash register to make change. “Keep it,” “You sure?” The response came automatically, after years of bartending many things became automatic. “Keep it.” She watched as he put the money in the till and pocketed the change. “Can I ask you something?” “Sure” He seemed agitated, but she knew he wouldn’t say no, another unwritten bartending rule. “What’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?” She knew he had heard the question many times before, as he quickly grabbed the drink order from the ball cap next to her. “I’m sure you get that a lot, not that it’s a bad place to be…I can’t imagine what you see, standing behind the bar, watching people try to stay afloat.” She continued “I’m not hitting on you…I’m sure you get that a lot, too. I’m not interested in you like that. I mean, I’m interested in you…just not like that.” “What kind of place should a guy like me be?” He said as he rang up another drink order on the register and handed out the change…still agitated. “Hmm…a guy like you should be allowed to go anywhere, anytime, no constrictions. A guy like you should be able to be…just to be, so everyone could see what happens next.” She knew she needed to be there in that moment to say those words to him. He didn’t act surprised, or annoyed, or grateful, he just continued to take orders from around the bar. Regardless, she knew he needed to hear it. Many times people didn’t react to the things that she said. Many times people almost became angry at her for the things she said, but she still said them, because she knew.

ALS, age, materialism, and me.....

“What looks like the end, becomes another beginning….” On the 5th anniversary of his prognosis…Stephen decided to go on a respirator. He had ALS…and a camera crew had followed him for over four years. The show, “So Much, So Fast” was on PBS last night. “Time is relative, the faster you move, the slower it goes.” –Einstein Watching Stephen’s family deal with the new mission that stood before them, and seeing how each individual member of the family responded, makes me wonder about my role in this fight. You see, when I was first starting grade school, my Aunt Wave was diagnosed with ALS. It did not take long for the disease to begin to rob her of her joy. My aunt wrote a note to her family, brought a gun into her bathroom, and shot herself in the head, while she still had the control to make and carry out the decision herself. Many people might not understand the choice she made. I think her sister, my Grandmother Colleen, and their mother, understood all too well. Wave and Colleen watched as their brother Cliff lost all mobility from the disease, many years earlier, and eventually, as my grandmother describes it “died a horrible death”. That is the only thing my grandmother has said about any of it. I have never heard her talk about her brother and sister, and now that her mom has passed, my dear Great-Grandmother Rose, she hasn’t mentioned her much, either. Of course, I do not get much of a chance to talk with my grandmother, with her being in Colorado, and me being here in Michigan. I worry about her. She often has a horrible time with anxiety and depression. She cannot work or drive because of it. Her daughter, my aunt Terry Lee, (yes, you’re catching on, Colleen, Rose, Florence, Lee – Florence being my other fabulous Great-Grandmother, mother of my grandfather), lives 20 minutes from her, so she will sometimes take her shopping, or to the doctor’s office, or just stop by for a visit. My father, unfortunately, is not so good about stopping by. That’s just kind of how that family works, they seem to be extremely self-serving, and…cold. I wonder how my mother ever fit in with any of them. I’m not so sure she ever did. I’m not so sure anybody ever has, even the very people that make up that family. The funny thing is I still absolutely adore all of them. Another good thing, I guess, that will come from not being able to have kids of my own...I will not pass this deadly gene onto them. My brother could have it, and my nephew could have it...who knows, I could have it. I will not drive myself crazy wondering if I do. I feel compelled, however, to have a more active role in the fight for a cure. My older sister's birthday is today. Deana is 35 years old. That seems totally crazy to me. When did she get so old? When will I stop thinking 35 is old? Probably when I turn 35. No, then I will probably think it's older than ever. I think 27 is old. The world tells me where I should be at 27...married, graduated (maybe with a Master's Degree by now), with one kid and another on the way, a house in the suburbs and a dog name Murphy. My friend Lindsay had a dog name Murphy, it only had three legs. Sometimes it would get loose from their yard and run to the high school to visit her. She would be so embarassed because everyone knew it was her dog...I think it was the only one in town with three legs:) Anyway, I don't think there is anywhere I'm supposed to be right now. The world bombards us with images of the American Dream. I look around me and see images of stressed out teenagers or twenty-somethings all striving for the same dream, not realizing that right down the street are people who have stopped dreaming altogether. I find myself more and more uncomfortable lately with the stuff that I have, and the life that I lead. Mother Theresa's feet were deformed. Did you know that? They would get boxes of shoes donated to the people of Calcutta, and she would dig through the box and find the worst pair, so nobody else had to wear them. Her feet were deformed from years of wearing bad shoes, or no shoes. My feet are already pretty ugly...but not because of a giving spirit. It is time to act. I'm not sure what it is I'm supposed to do, but that won't stop me from doing something. I can start small, start here, in this town. It will start with shedding my life from all the "stuff". It's kind of funny...I usually look around at my stuff and feel bad that I don't have very much, now I realize it is not a lack of stuff, but an over-abundance of stuff that is making me uncomfortable. Now, just to come to the realization is not enough, it's time to act. I am currently reading a couple of books, and both have compelled the same thoughts within me. The first is called "The Irresistible Revolution". The second was written by a friend of mine...he was traveling across the country with a backpack, and nothing more...there's obviously a lot more to it than that, and I'm sure I'll reveal more as I continue to read...but one excerpt spoke to me in the same way as "The Irresistible Revolution"... "...But more than all this, the joy and value of living out of a pack stemmed from the austere limitation of available space. Nagashana was forced to carefully consider the importance of each item that went into it. There was no room for the usual trivia and trifles that fill and eventually overtake the average American household. Nagashana had often heard people complain that their space was so cluttered that they didn't even have room to think. Living out of a backpack ensured, at the very least, plenty of room for that. Yet Nagashana took it even further than this. He remembered the teachings Jesus had on the subject of possessions: "Lay up your treasures in Heaven, rather than earth; for where your treasure is, there will your heart be also...If you would be perfect, sell all that you possess and give the money to the poor." Nagashana knew that these words were not about the importance of being a charitable person. They were a warning: He knew that possessions will eventually do the possessing; master will become slave, and a path will be forever lost. Shackles and chains, he knew, could have such alluring forms...cars, stereos, televisions, electric blankets, secure jobs, credit cards, cellular phones, satellite dishes - each a link binding and burdening until we all become like Marley's ghost: a cold sould trapped eternally by luxury and wealth...For him (Nagashana) consciously limiting his material goods was an act of spiritual training as important as meditation, study of sacred texts, or worship. The lightness (in weight) of his pack was directly proportional to the lightness (in luminescence) of his soul." - "A Handful of Dust" A Novel by Marc Beaudin http://www.myspace.com/crowvoice You know, for a guy claiming to be more spiritual than religious, I would say he's got more of the right idea than many Christians I know. I keep receiving this same message over and over and over and over again. You think God's trying to tell me something? ;) I have to head off to rehearsal, to play two amazing characters...an old rabbi (yes, an old man) and a homeless woman from the Bronx, who many say, is believed to be a prophet in the show...seriously, could I have been any luckier with this show? I was just cast in a Neil Simon show, I get to actually play a normal 30-something woman. No one is really normal, though, she will have a story to tell and act out just like all the characters I've been playing all along. At least I won't need to contort my face or my body for this one...I'll just need to dig deep within myself and find her.

Hot Flash...or the Holy Spirit?

I choose to write in this color, because that is how I feel right now...on fire. I now have so much empathy for middle-age menopausal women. I'm a twenty-something menopausal woman. Yes, hot flashes, dry eyes, fatigue, mood swings, the works. There is a blessing in all this, no monthly curse. However, I do still get PMS, pretty much every week. What is that about? I will not go on about my feminine troubles...who wants to hear about that, really? I am supposed to be in church...I was in church...and then, BOOM, hot flash...I'll make it back in for communion...that's why I came today, anyway, and to catch up with my kids and see how everybody's doing. I hear the organ, and somehow it is enough for me to know that there are people who I care very much for, worshiping the God I have learned to love, right in the next room. I have a warm feeling, not uncomfortable like the hot flash, but the warm feeling of love...like a cat stretched out on the carpet, as the sun pours in from the window, bathing the cat in its warmth; warmth you can feel right down to your bones...the Holy Spirit warmth. So many people get hooked on the rules. I have always had a problem following rules that nobody could explain to me. Right now, many people would frown at the fact that I am sitting here writing this blog. However, I am so in tune with the Holy Spirit right now. I have trouble sitting in church sometimes, and I know many people can relate. Some days, I really enjoy just sitting there, dressed up, my time, to hear God's word, and let Him speak to me. Some days, I don't really listen very well, and I write, or read, but I'm still there, and hear what I need to hear. Some days, like today, I am in the building, and that seems to be enough. Some days, I show up in my jeans and t-shirt, knowing that that is the only way I was going to get my butt to church, and if people frown at me, I smile and say "at least I'm here, man, and I am comfortable". Some days, I have other stuff going on, but I know God is just as much a part of that as He is a part of the service that is going on at the same time. Some days, I am at home, sleeping, or sitting, resting, and God is there, too. Don't get me wrong, church is great, and fellowship is wonderful, and without it, it's easy to become less accountable. If I have built a relationship with God, like a friend, or like my Father, than I will come to Him every day and speak with Him, invite Him to be part of every moment, and read His word whenever I get the chance. I would also stop by His house occasionally to visit...sometimes I stop by during the week, when no one else is here, and sit and talk to Him. Those are some of my favorite moments, and I'm blessed to have a key to His house, so I can come in whenever I want. I've never been really good at relationships, thankfully, most people are understanding. God, however, expects more, and I'm grateful. I've always had a lot of respect for the people who expect more out of me. God knows what I'm capable of, good and bad, so the fact that He expects more shows me that I am capable of more. I better get going, Jesus is waiting, broken for me.

Letters to God...

I often write my prayers to God in a journal...this one I wrote many moons ago, but it seems relevant to how I'm feeling in this minute.... 5-26-04 Oh Lord. That I would be so foolish as to think that it is all up to me! I see AIDS in Africa, I see homeless everywhere, I see people who do not believe in anything. I lose so much hope for us all when I see what Hollywood has become. Magazines make me feel inadequate. Then I look at my middle school students and know the road is even harder for them. I get so overwhelmed I often sit and do nothing. It's like a big puzzle and all the pieces are laid out in front of me - where do I begin? Especially since there is no picture on the box to show me what the final picture is supposed to look like. I'm going to stop worrying about the big stuff. There are so many samll things I can do EVERY DAY that will make a difference in Your Kingdom. The small stuff has just as much significance as the big stuff. It is the small stuff that offers hope and sustains people. it is the small stuff that only You see and no one else that keeps me humble. I know what you are capable of doing with my life, Lord, and it scares me. I don't know if it scares me that you will do so much and overwhelm me, or if it scares me that my life will not be a success as the world sees it, and that I will be humbled more and more every day as my relationship with you grows richer. The truth is, if you are there, Lord...I want to be there, too. I want to start today - doing all the small stuff that can make a difference today. I know you will take care of tomorrow. I don't know if I have tomorrow - but I know that I have whatever moment I am in and I will praise You for whatever the moment brings. The doubts come, but they also go, because in those moments You fill my heart with so much love - love I know I am not capable of creating on my own, and the doubts disappear. I find Your power in resisting the devil. I find Your power in the quiet moments throughout my day. I find Your power in the midst of a storm, or in the glory of a sunset. I find Your power in my weakness. Most importantly, I find Your love in Your power. That is how I desire to be. Thank You for Your power. Thank You for Your love. Thank You for Your Son. In Jesus' precious name - Amen.

Couldn't sleep....surprised?

Cold shoulder. Bowled over. Mind blower. Edge duller. Riding cars. Smoky bars. Giant red candy jars. Glass. Porcelain. Skin within. Let’s begin. Forty-five miles per hour. Pink drink. Something stinks. Cigarettes in the sink. Damp. Wood floors. Painted doors. Girls galore. Nevermore. Bullseye. One cheap shot. Deserves another. Fingers laced. Hesitates. Too late, my friend. No end No end No end

Last Night @ the Coffee Shop

Chatter. Coffee. Cream. The Scene Do they see me? Bare feet on leather Bare soul in full view Nobody's looking. I dreamt this place once I dream another place Sitting. Dreaming. Warm cinnamon rolls Laughter rolls freely Applaud. Check mate. Fingerpaint walls Fingerprint of God Fingering the leather Beige. I don't belong here Outside looking in Warm lights My bones are cold. Fallen pieces Disregard Laughter cannot penetrate brick walls

Tomorrow....

I would like to re-appear, better than ever!

Sunny Disposition...Overcast Heart

Today I would like to disappear.

I am starry eyed....

...and vaguely discontented.

That's a lyric from a song from the musical "State Fair". I think it's perfect. My favorite word to use recently is - obsolete. I think it's amazing how you can feel completely confident one day...like nothing can touch you, and you're potential is endless. However, the very next day, you could end up second guessing yourself and what you have to offer the world you've created for yourself. It's not as if anything changes, but something must have for you to feel so different. Sometimes, it's a matter of being hungry or tired...never a good time to self-evaluate. I think there's a big difference between thinking of yourself, and self-evaluating. I think we could all learn so much from one another, if we would stop taking everything so personal. Is constructive criticism really possible anymore? I hope so...it seems to be a great way to stay accountable. If I were really honest with myself, I would realize I spend so much time talking about accountability, and a lot more time side-stepping it in my own life. Who wants to think about the daily decisions they might be making to hinder God's blessings in their lives? Oh, I think about them all the time...I just don't change them. I am not intentionally thinking about each decision I make, some of which I know, eventually, leads down a path of destruction, if I let it get that far. It gets tiring to think about each decision. If I worked on my heart, and the innermost parts of me, and also intentionally focused on daily decisions, eventually it would become habit to live a life of excellence. It's always hard work to get back to the basics of anything. It's just like in basketball. If you work on fundamentals, and you work on endurance...when it comes time for the game, you will be ready...even if you haven't worked on any plays yet. When you add the plays in after making sure everyone is almost flawless with fundamentals, and everyone is in tip-top shape...you're going to win championships. The way I see it, there are two emotions that fuel decisions we make; there is love, and there is fear. I do not always fuel my decisions with love, but instead, allow fear to take over and guide me. What am I so scared of anyway? If God is love, than I wish to be love, too. To be love doesn't mean to be loved. I forget that a lot, and that's usually when fear takes over. Intentional is another good word. If you're not intentional...what's the point? It seems to me if you are intentional about living a life of excellence, you will unintentionally bless others without even realizing it's happening...because that wasn't your initial intention. To bless others without noticing would be fantastic, but it would be a scapegoat for me because the reason I wouldn't want to know, is because then it would be easier to be humble. However, are you really humble if you don't even realize you are doing something to be humble about? Isn't it more to understand some impact you're having and be able to smile and say "Isn't God good?" These thoughts crowd my mind, but not when fear is at the wheel. I drove myself into a ditch of self-pity last night...weeping and asking God to show me what I can do so I can stop making myself so miserable all the time. I stopped crying, wiped my eyes, took a hot bath and went to bed, again, understanding that when I am tired, it's probably not the best time to self-evaluate. God said that weeping may endure for the night, but His joy comes in the morning...I decided to take Him at His word. I woke up this morning and read His word, and of course, God spoke peace into my heart. I am not a completely different person, I just choose to accept God's love knowing it will only help me to be better for others. This morning I woke up and realized how loved I was, and how good it feels to find sanctuary in that love. This morning I wished that love for all the people I know...especially the ones my fear drives me to believe deserve it the least. ,

nothing said

oceans and seas crazy dreams coloring schemes hearts that bleed holding hope flowers of soap suds and buds on the remote get in the boat flying high azul's a fool and so am i blame the sky too rich to die the pool is red kids are fed mercy's med nothing said time for bed.

Thank you, Gerald Ford

I sit in my living room, as I have many times before…contemplating. I am watching the funeral of Gerald R. Ford taking place in Washington. I know he will be laying in repose in Grand Rapids this evening, and I would love to be there. I realize as I sit here that the part of me that wants to be there is the part of me that craves adventure. I know it would be an honor to witness a part of history, and to be able to say I was there to see it. I know it would fill me with a great sense of responsibility to consider what I am doing to make this nation and this world a better place. However, the maturing part of me realizes that I already have that burden of responsibility laid upon my heart while sitting here watching the funeral on television. As I listen to past and present leaders speak on the integrity and humility of Gerald Ford, I am pressed to consider my own integrity and humility. I realize that the resources of my time, money, and energy that would be used to go to Grand Rapids today and stand in line to pay my respects to the former President might be better spent fulfilling my obligations here to my church, my family and my community. Even as I write this, I regret the decision to stay slightly because I know I am the type to get in my car and just go knowing that whatever happens it would be worth whatever sacrifice I need to make to be there. I’m sure it would be worth it. I know it would be, to see the 21 jets fly over the Grand River, to see the coffin with the American flag draped over it, to stay a couple of days and see old friends. However, I know with a little planning and patience, the trip could mean far more to me. Sacrifices will still be made financially and with respects to time, but it will be worth it. If I go next week, I can privately visit the place where Gerald R. Ford will be laid to rest, and tour the museum that I have walked through numerous times, in honor of the late President and his wife. I can plan visits with many friends, so I can make sure I see everyone I want to see, and work hard while I am here so I can stay a few days without too many responsibilities missed here. It just makes more sense. I have never been one to do the sensible thing. I tend to follow my heart and ignore the voice in my head. However, I realize now that you can hold onto convictions in your heart and heed the warnings in your head, and serve people more effectively. I think Gerald Ford understood that balance more than most. He served God and his country and his family with a humble heart and sensible disposition, never losing the passion that drove him to serve. I proudly sit in my living room today and vow to strive to do the same. Rest in peace, Gerald Ford, thank you for the lessons I have learned, even through your passing. May God have mercy on us all.

So many times we think that life is too complex, and we’re always trying to think about it on a different level than what’s right in front of us. What if life is so easy we’re foolish to try and think about it another way? What if we have one task, and because we do not look harder at the things we do every day, we miss it? What if it all happens just as it should no matter what we do? What if we are here and gone and it doesn’t even matter? Would that take the pressure off, or make us feel insignificant? I think I like to create different characters because I feel in the world we create on stage, that character has significance, no matter how small the role, there’s still a role. I can put everything I have into that character because I know they only exist for a moment; then they are gone. If I put that much energy into every moment of the character I am, I would be exhausted. I am exhausted. Sometimes I feel like I try so hard to do nothing. I feel I should be doing something other than what I’m doing, but I don’t do it. When I feel like I’m doing something I should be doing, I find it hard to keep it going because it takes all of me. I don’t know how to delegate my energy. I only know what I’m doing right now is taking all of me, but my mind tends to go to other places. I wish I could be more responsible. I know I could be anything I wanted. I could work at it and become it over time. The problem is I’m not sure exactly what it is I want to be. Sometimes I just like to sit here and do nothing. There’s no failure in that, or any success. It’s not complacency because my mind is reeling, and I’m learning about myself in that moment. When I’m not doing, I’m being, and seeing things for how they are, seeing me for who I am. I lie to myself sometimes about who I am. Sometimes I want to believe I’m a horrible person, most times actually. When I think I am an okay person doing the right thing, that’s when I know I am in trouble because I know I am deceiving myself. I am dust. I am also a child of God, created by Him, for Him. I know it is He who dwells in me and keeps me alive. It is not because I am a good person. It is not because I have done great things or kept myself safe that I am alive. It is because God wants me to be alive. I am not entitled to anything, punishment or reward. It is Christ who took the punishment and deserves the reward...Happy Birthday, Jesus!

Just Write...and See What Happens

So, that's what I'm going to do, just start writing. I realized something today as I looked at old pictures and thought about stories that I've told a hundred times about crazy things I've done. It's been a while since I've lived a good story. When I was in Grand Rapids, I was constantly meeting new, interesting people, doing spontaneous things, and learning as much as I could in the process. Lately, I've just been getting from one day to the next, not really pushing for anything new and intriguing. I think part of me really needed the break, living that lifestyle can be exhausting. However, I think there's part of me that needs a little bit of mystery and excitement to keep things fresh. Don't get me wrong, I have met tons of new people, even this semester. I just haven't really gone out of my way to get to know them, like I usually do. I love to go home, turn on my Christmas lights, light the candles, and make something to eat. That's been my recent favorite thing to do, no matter how late it is. I really enjoy living alone. Especially with such a wierd sleeping pattern. I can fall asleep at ten, wake up at two, stay up until six, and then sleep until eight. It's really wierd. Some nights I won't go to sleep until four in the morning, other nights I crash at nine, and won't wake up until ten. That's why it is nice being in school and working odd hours. I can sleep in until ten if I need to, but I can also wake up early and get a few hours in the church before class, or workout. I need my sleep. That is something I have realized more this semester than ever. I never realized how much I wasn't sleeping. I don't feel guilty about sleeping in because chances are, if I can't wake up, it's because I woke up a few times during the night and didn't sleep well. When I get enough sleep I am ten times more productive than when I don't. Unfortunately, during weeks like this one, waking up early is a must, no matter how I slept the night before. I have, like, five papers to write by tomorrow, but my schedule is completely full, so the papers will have to be done in the cracks. You know, so many people get frustrated with themselves for procrastinating, but I wouldn't have it any other way. Rather than spend hours or days throughout the semester trying to start papers, I can spend a few days cramming it all in, and still getting A's on all my papers. Why would I do it differently? I don't even think about a paper until a few days before it's due, then, I don't usually do it until that day. One of these days I'm sure it's going to catch up with me, but it hasn't yet, so I'm not going to worry about it. I actually have to go to class right now. It's my geography class and I have to present my paper for extra credit. It's my last gen. ed...woohoo! I'm so ready to be done with school, but I am appreciating all the resources while I'm here. I absolutely love learning. I just wish it didn't take so much time, and so much reading! I love to read, but not if I have to read a paragraph five times just to take it in. I better get going...another thing I've learned to enjoy is being on time. Later.

Swimming

Swimming Swimming The surface tide. Afraid of the deep, of what's deep inside. Thank goodness for the Spirit who lives within me; helps me to swim through the deep blue sea.

Cowardly Lion?

You know what? I’m tired of cowards. I continue to meet men, and some I actually get to know, but for what? I know I’m not the most consistent person, I know that. However, sometimes you have to take the bull by the horns and go after what you want. Maybe it’s all been a blessing in disguise, in order for me to have the chance to meet the man who will have courage enough to take a chance on someone who has so much to offer. The sad part is, there have been men in my life who have absolutely adored me, and have taken a chance by telling me so, and I have not returned those feelings, but at least I let them know that from the beginning. I’m not speaking of a specific instance, or even anything recent. Well, maybe some recent things, but nothing really substantial. Apparently, enough to cause me to be frustrated enough to write this blog, though. When I actually take time to think about it, however, I have passed on some great men I have met, but never took the time to get to know. There was Brandon, the young man who helped me sneak into the Bush Dinner in Grand Rapids, when GW was first running for President. He was very important to the Republican Party at that time, and I wouldn’t doubt if he has worked his way towards the top by now. He asked me out after the whole volunteer experience was over. I totally blew him off. Why? I can’t even remember…I think I might have thought he was too quiet or willing to settle for campaign manager instead of running, himself. I never called him back. I saw him many months later. He came into the dealership I worked at with his little brother. It was the cutest thing, the way he was with his brother. It was obvious he had been intrigued by me, so why didn’t I at least give him a chance? At the dealership I said hello and apologized for blowing him off. He barely spoke to me, and left without saying good-bye. I deserved that, for sure, and felt more attracted to him in that moment than ever before. Then, there was Erion. Eri was from Albania, and I met him in my Political Science class when I was a freshman. By the end of the semester we had talked over many lunches, and he even gave me his big wool sweater he was wearing on that last day of class. I said “I like your sweater…GIVE IT TO ME!” Just kidding, of course. Next thing I know, he throws the sweater onto my desk. I throw it back, naturally, it was a wool Eddie Bauer sweater, obviously very expensive. He threw it back and said, “it is worth more to me knowing that every time you wear this sweater you will think of me.” Oh my gosh, I’m a moron. Even writing this, I realize I’m a moron. I think he had a “kind of” girl back home, though, in Albania. He would go back in the summer and work in the orphanages there. Seriously, he’ll probably be President one day, of Albania. I never saw him again, until once at the end of the next semester, his time here was almost up, and the unmistakable sparks flew between us again. I remember when I finally got up the courage to search him out in his dorm…he had moved out the day before. Then, there was the intellect I met at Barnes & Nobles not long after that. You would think I would have learned my lesson with Brandon, unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. I worked in the children’s section in the evening, and he had come in a couple times and we talked. He asked me for my number, and I gave it to him. When he called, I never called him back. I think I was intimidated by him…his intelligence. I also couldn’t figure out what we would have in common, but I didn’t even take the opportunity to find out. I saw him a few months later at Barnes & Nobles, and apologized to him, explaining exactly why I didn’t call him back, and also explaining that I knew he didn’t deserve to be treated like that. I’m glad I ran into him, so I was, basically, forced to apologize to him. He deserved at least that much. Then, we have Kevin. I met him when I decided to go to a Square Dance/Hay Ride with the ministry at Grand Valley. I didn’t know anyone, and just started talking to people, hoping it wouldn’t be completely excruciating. I actually got to know quite a few people on that trip, and had a really good time. I was sitting by the fire to warm up and literally ran into a guy sitting down. Seriously, it was straight out of a romantic comedy, (which have completely jaded me, by the way) and we struck up a conversation. We went out a few times, but I had no idea how to date somebody or what the heck was going on. We had some slightly romantic walks and talks, and it was nice. We never even kissed, but I just stopped calling him. He kinda reminded me of my dad…I think that was part of it. I think we both kind of realized that we didn’t have those kinds of feelings, but he at least deserved an explanation or something. There are more really great guys, wow, a lot more than I realized now that I’m thinking about it. I, at least, learned to be honest and up-front, and give them some sort of explanation. You know, after writing these stories, I realize that I’m getting exactly what I deserve. Almost every ex-boyfriend has come to me after we have broken up, whether by my choice or theirs, and said that I’m the one, they realize that now. What is that? Most of them, I broke up with them, but a couple left me no choice (I tried to warn them;). And now, it’s the guys I date that usually stop calling me. You know what I just realized? I think, with a few of them, it’s because I wouldn’t sleep with them. How could I not realize that before? That’s really sad if that’s the reason. I know I have the potential to be a great lover…really. If they would just be a bit patient, they would have the chance to experience that, after they choose to accept and appreciate all the other things I have to offer. Recently, I have been set up with one guy who ended up going to trial because he slept with his high school students (crazy!) and another who doesn’t seem interested to even get to know me. Again, it’s probably a blessing in disguise. I never planned on allowing anyone to set me up, but they seemed so persistent about these gentleman. I think I’m done with the set-up game for now. Besides, because none of these things have really worked out, God has had a chance to work on me as a woman. I’ve had the chance to figure out what brings me joy and breaks my heart. I have grown in class and character…and actually appreciate who I am. I’ve also had the chance to love Christ with my whole heart, with no distractions, and find out what it feels like to completely trust Him, before I give part of my heart to a man. I know, now, what kind of wife I want to be, and I know it will be pleasing to God, and pleasing to my husband. I know that I might never get married, and I have accepted that, with peace. I have moments, obviously, just look how I started this blog. It’s amazing how God speaks to my heart through my own words, and reminds me of what is real, what is love, and what is worth the wait, even if it’s just waiting to go to Heaven and give my love to Christ. I’m sure glad Christ isn’t a coward. Maybe I’m the coward.

why is it?

why is it... girls always use halloween as an excuse to dress kinda scandalous? even girls who normally don't dress like that have a tendency to tramp-up, i mean doll-up, for halloween. i've never understood it... why is it...driving in bay city or saginaw always turns me into the devil? i could be doing fine, singing along to the radio, and BAM! suddenly i'm throwing my hands up in the air, and staring at the "I Love Jesus" air freshener hanging from my rear view mirror to remind me who i stand for, and reminding myself that i have probably unintentionally pissed a few people off while driving like a maniac... why is it...when i know something or someone is probably not good for me, suddenly i find myself thinking of it more and more...now that's just stupid... why is it...whenever something smells gross, we always want someone else to smell it, too? why is it...i always choose the day i have the most obligations to take off and do what i want? why is it...we are intrigued or think someone is cool if they like "different" stuff? you like what you like, how does that make you ratable, or datable? why is it...every time i make plans, i immediately want to break them? why is it...the "pretty people" always seem to hang out in big groups of other "pretty people"...it's almost like a cult of the gorgeous people...every pretty person is invited, even if they're an idiot why is it...i can manage to say the wrong thing at the wrong time all the time? why is it...i feel nothing is impossible, yet i sit and do nothing most of the time, because i'm afraid that nothing is impossible why is it...i try to fix everything all the time...so i end up talking way too much? why is it...2 o'clock in the afternoon and i feel like i've accomplished nothing? boo!!

days go by

just sittin' here thinking of days that go by that i will never remember ever again somehow i can't help but feel what happens on those days is still significant somehow or else what's the point? or is it up to me to make them significant somehow

Get the ball rollin....

I don't know why I stop writing sometimes. I think I fear being accountable to my own words. Or, by the time I write one thought, it changes. This is what I want today: I want to be a better person to get a tattoo a cappucino someone to want to be with me, but not expect me to be with them any financial burden lifted the Tigers to win a big, fluffy couch for my living room it to be 60 degrees outside to watch a movie and eat a big bucket of popcorn a phone a standing ovation to make someone feel good about themselves to cry....but i'm not sure why