0017.

"Why are you cast down, O my soul,
and why are you in turmoil within me?
Hope in God; for I shall again praise him,
my salvation and my God."

Psalm 42:5-6

0016.

I was flipping through channels & saw Dexter's Laboratory, and I used to love that show, so I watched it.

And after a minute, I was like, "wow, his voice is the same as chuckie from rugrats!"

I'm usually good at identifying actors & voices from other movies/tv shows.

So what did I do? IMDB.com of course!

And I was right. Same voice.



What can I say? It's a gift. :-)
Just thought I'd enlighten you.

0015.

Things That Have Made Christmas Break Heart-Warming:

1. The Merry-Go-Round (It's in my town every year! and it's free.)
2. The Tacky Light Tour (I live in a small town.)
3. Judy (my best friend's mom) being obsessive about Christmas decorating and parties. And Crock Pots.
4. 6 Months. :-)
5. Finally beating Daisy & Peach (whores) in Mario Party..
6. Taboo & Scattergories
7. Basically just my home friends in general.
8. Puppy Surprise
9. A Christmas Story/The Grinch
10. Fantasy In Lights
11. Explaining to people, again, what "music business" means...


To Be Continued...

0014.

I don't know what to do when friends are feeling depressed.

It's a legitimate condition that I don't understand. I can honestly say I have never been there. And sometimes I feel guilty for my life having been this "good."
But I understand that it is largely significant. I do. It's a horrible amount of pain to have to go through.

I want to do something, but I feel so helpless. And it seems to be a recurring theme this semester. Or maybe I was just blind to it in high school.

So I'm just left to pray for them. And try to love them the best that I can without being suffocating.

The thing I don't understand is..

Why are so many people struggling with depression in America? Isn't America supposed to be great? I mean, look at all the STUFF we have!

Why can we look at pictures and videos from mission trips filled with beaming smiles on the faces of children in Nairobi, in literally the biggest slum in the world of 1 million people, but here in the land of abundance people are screaming to the sky, overwhelmed by the emotional turmoil they are experiencing?

Not to diminish the pain of these people. It's very real, and I can understand that.

But, still, these are things I think about.

0013.

Here it comes: a beautiful collision...

Here it comes..

Here it comes now..


His light caught her eye.
Where has it been? Walking along, focused on only her own feet. Only the ground in front of her.

LOOK UP!

She woke up from her daze. Wh--How did I get here? How have I been missing You?
Her head had slowly begun to bow, centralizing her view on the dirt. No, it wasn't dirt. It was a lush garden. It was comforting and full of joy! She loved it!

The source of this garden-the light. It was above and ahead.
She raised her head and soaked in the light. She sighed. She felt small and somewhat foolish. But she felt loved and determined.


Here it comes...

0012.

I'm breaking my rule again and writing about myself.

Rules are meant to be broken, right?

..or something.

Jontay wrote about 10 things he enjoys. And since I'm a sucker for e-mail surveys and lists, I thought I'd contribute.

1. Feeling like I actually learned something.
--Especially in church.

2. Sleeping in & knowing I have nothing I should be doing instead.
--I don't care what anyone says, sleeping until at least noon is an amazing feeling.

3. Chocolate.
--in any shape or form.

4. Creative Writing.
-- even though I never really have the opportunity to for classes. Sometimes I think I do a good job.

5. Singing.
--I go to Belmont and I'm not a music major. I don't get to very much.

6. T-Shirts
--I think people at Belmont should be a little lazier with their wardrobe. Come on, every other college is doing it..

7. Demetri Martin's Jokes
--he's just plain funny.

8. Piano driven pop-rock.
--who doesn't?

9. Camp Glisson.
--'nough said.

10. Being a lame college kid.
--board games, disney movies...you name it. :-)

sorry. I'm doing a couple more..

11. Hanging out with my home friends.
--I miss them. and it's always like we were never gone.

12. Movies and TV shows intended for 10 year olds.

0011.

So, I usually write things that have nothing to do with my life. But I would just like everyone to know that it took me 3 extra hours to get home today because my car died in the middle of a highway.

People honked.
People were mad.
And an army soldier with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth on a motorcycle blaring "Drift Away" helped me to a parking lot.

I then sat there for about 30 minutes waiting for a tow truck that was supposed to ride me for TWO hours all the way back to LaGrange, GA to a dealership.
With a man I don't know.

I was paranoid. I'm a 19 year old girl. Doesn't that SCREAM horror movie/rape victim to you???
It turned out okay. My mom spoke to like 92048 people to get everything straight and made sure he was legit. And he was.

But still. I mean--I was by myself. What thoughts would've run through YOUR head?

But luckily I had a comforter. :-)

It turned out okay. It was a long awkward car ride. And luckily people kept calling me. It took forever. I just sat there and ate my ritz bits and drank my diet coke...

my life..

i SWEAR.

Jesus is amazing. praise the LORD.

0010.

Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.

Does she HAVE to do that so loudly?
I sat there waiting in the lobby for 53 minutes as the receptionist tapped her bright red glossy fingernails on her desk.
She clearly needed some sort of task to occupy her time. I thought about giving her one. Maybe she should rearrange the magazines. Or go get me Starbucks. I could use Starbucks right now. Why isn't she getting me Starbucks?
Now she's doubly annoying me. She's tapping, AND the cause of my lack of coffee. Seriously, why is she getting paid?

I looked around so that I could defer my attention from the annoying receptionist.
Nothing else was too exciting. A kid poking his sister incessantly while she practices some SERIOUS patience by not responding. She must have experience in this area. It must be a common occurance. Maybe I could learn from her. Maybe I would not be so annoyed right now by Receptionist Lady. What other admirable character traits have I missed out on aquiring from being an only child? Thanks, Mom.

Y'know, for someone who is about to get a new car, I'm quite cynical.
Maybe I'll blame that on my mom too. Maybe not. That's probably not fair. She tried. How could she know that Receptionist Lady would be so useless? She couldn't have prepared me for that. Although maybe if I'd had a sibling I'd know how to better control my annoyance, and as we've established, that actually IS her fault.

I won this contest at the mall. I'm getting a brand new cherry-red Honda Civic. I'm really not a fan of red. (Receptionist Lady apparently is...) But really, beggars can't be choosers, right? I'm getting a new car. That's good. That is very good. My old car is sitting outside of the dealership begging to be retired. I think it is harboring ill-feelings ever since I won the contest. It's more defiant than usual. I try not to talk about it much.

56 minutes. Really? I mean, I know I should be willing to wait another hour to receive the car. I did much worse to actually win it. I wouldn't eat three jars of Jelly Bellies and suffer the consequences for much less than a Civic.

She got up! Receptionist Lady. She left! Where is she? She is supposed to be ready to call my name at any given moment. That is her job. Her job is to call names. How can she call names if she is not where the list of names is?

Oh, she's back.
"Mrs. Smith?"
Good.
Okay. I wonder what she was doing.

NO.
She has a Starbucks cup.
Ridiculous.

009.

Things that shouldn't exist:

+the music of britney spears
+ugg boots
+tila tequila
+mosquitoes
+nickelback
+bibliographies
+math
+accounting
+traffic
+8am classes
+redneck practices
+the phrase, "i know, right?"
+obnoxious jr. high girls (I have to come to terms with that eventually.)
+unidentifyable Glisson bugs
+shoes that hurt
+other things.



Things that should be rendered obsolete:
+actual maps
+speech classes
+gas
+Windows. [Not glass. I like those. The OS.]


Things that should NOT be rendered obsolete:
+CD's
+Animated/Musical Disney Movies
+hand written letters
+talented singers
+fictional television
+board games

008.

There is so much brokenness!!

007.

"Why do you say, O Jacob, and speak, O Israel, 'My way is hidden from the Lord, and my right is disregarded by my God'?
Have you not known? Have you not heard? The LORD is the everlasting God, the CREATOR of the ENDS of the earth.
He does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable.
He gives power to the faint, and to him who has NO might he increases strength.
Even youths shall faint and be weary, and young men shall fall EXHAUSTED;
but they who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles;
they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not be faint." Is. 40 27-31


You are alone, and you are helpless. No one can aid you. He isn't listening. The world is falling apart, and consequently, or perhaps coincidentally, so are you. You can't see the light. What if there is no light? This thought frightens you. There has to be a light. Otherwise, what is dark?
You are broken. You are fallen. No one understands. WHY does no one understand?

You want to help. You don't understand. WHY can't you understand? There is a light! You know it! But how do you know it? Have you ever seen true darkness? What is light if there is no darkness? What is real if there is no struggle?
You feel guilty. You know no such pain as they do. So, you sit. You sit and you pray. He isn't listening. No--He has to be listening, right?

"O Lord, how long shall I cry for help, and you will not hear? Or cry to you, 'Violence!' but you will not save? Why do you make me see iniquity, and why do you idly look at wrong?" Hab. 1:2-3a

You aren't sure how much prayer is necessary until someone will finally be on the road to recovery. The list of people this applies to grows longer every day. You are just one person. Every night: "Lord, help them!"
You have to believe it makes a difference. It has to. If there is no understanding, what else can be done? You pray to the one whose understanding no one can fathom.

"If it seems slow, wait for it; it will surely come; it will not delay." Hab. 2:3b

So you are both alone in your endeavors. Alone fighting, and alone trying to intercede.

"fear not, for I am with you;
be not dismayed, for I am your God;
I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand."
Isaiah 41:10

006.

Once upon a time there was a girl. She was ordinary. College student. Knew nothing. Just trying to figure out what to do with her life and have fun doing it.

One sunny day she was minding her own business sitting under a tree and a shadow was suddently cast over her. An elephant had come out of nowhere and stared at her for a second. After a moment of awkward eye contact, she looked back at her book. It sat on her and said, "Hello, my name is Speech 1100, and you suck at life."


the end.

005.

"Don't give up. It's just the weight of the world. When your heart's heavy, I will lift it for you.
Don't give up because you want to be heard. If silence keeps you, I will break it for you.
Everybody wants to be understood. Well, I can hear you."


The ground started to rumble. I felt it, but I knew not from where it came. I gazed into the distance. I pivoted my feet and surveyed my surroundings. I saw distant figures, but I was soon distracted as the rumbing started to fade and became more and more distant. I breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Lord." I whispered. Not that I had asked to begin with.

I turned my attention back to the figures. They seemed closer now. And I recognized them as people. They seemed oddly familiar, as if I were in the company of friends. As I studied their movements and tried to distinguish their features, it became obvious that these people were in great distress. Some of them on their knees. Some of them clinging for dear life. Some of them shaking fists at the sky. Some simply collapsed in sobs.

I kept pivoting and looking around in every direction, seeing more and more hurting people. They were aching. My heart grew heavier by the minute. The beautiful solid ground on which I stood became more and more appaling to me. Those people are crying in the dry, cracked desert, yet here I stand on my lush patch of land, worrying about the ramifications of a small rumbling, over in an instant. These people seemed to be in a never-ending state of loneliness and confusion. They are victims of unfortunate circumstance. They are simply in need of answers. They are mourning over lost souls close to them. And yet, here I stand. I am disgusted with my world. My heart sunk even further. I need to assist. I need to love them. How can I possibly understand their circumstances? How can I possibly be of any comfort when their world is crumbling beneath them?

And their world WAS crumbling beneath them. The rumbling? It shook the ground on which they stood, kneeled, and collapsed. The cracks in the ground grew bigger. They debated on whether or not just to jump in.

I looked closer. More and more familiar figures started to appear. Their faces started to form from the blurred images. I...know her. I--I know HIM! I know all four of THEM! What is happening? Why is no one okay anymore? Was anyone okay to begin with? Or am I just naive enough to think they were?
Everyone is breaking...aching...

And I collapsed on my patch of lush, green grass, and tears started to flow.
Jesus, help them. I don't know how. With all of my heart, I wish i did.

004.

"And we know that in all things, God works for the good of those who love Him."- Romans eight: twenty-eight.

Once upon a time there was a man who worked very hard. He toiled and toiled from dawn until dusk on his wooden sculptures. His hands were worn with a combination of age & honest work. Often he lay awake at night, wondering what good any of it was doing.
He made an honest living. He fed himself and his wife. They were never without a roof over their heads or clothes on their back.
He never meant to be a wood carver. He wanted to be a pediatrician. He loved kids, and, never being able to have any of his own, it seemed like the perfect solution. He thought about going to school, taking all the right classes. He would be making a difference in people's lives.
No, I can't do that, he told himself.
So he stuck to what he was good at. Wood carving. It's in my blood, he thought. His father created masterpieces out of blocks of maple.
For years he wondered if he'd made the right decision. What am I doing with my life? he often wondered.
He did enjoy wood carving. He'd just always wanted to be known for helping people out--making a difference.
What good did sculptures do anyone? They just sit there.
He stood outside in his backyard staring up at the sky. Pacing back and forth, he debated loudly, "Should I go to school? Should I blindly continue on with my comfortable job? What if it all goes downhill? How do i KNOW what i'm supposed to do?!" His shouting echoed as he cried out at the stars.

Something caused him to fall to his knees.
A small tear formed in his right eye, making its way down his cheek. He hadn't cried in years.
He looked back into his humble home, through the window, at his wife sitting by the fire. He half-smiled and thanked God for her.
Suddenly he realized there's a bigger picture than what he does for a living.
He took a deep breath. "I'm supposed to love." He whispered, closing his eyes. "All I have to do is love."

003.

[metaphor?]

The gravel crunched under her feet as she ran. Little sweat droplets were starting to form on her forehead that she tried to wipe away with one hand, while the other held the layers of her dress. Her heart felt as though it would beat right out of her chest. Her legs were tiring by the second and seemed to scream at her, "STOP RUNNING." But she couldn't.

Her eyes kept creeping farther and farther to her left, straining to see if it was still behind her, but she could not allow them to look." I just, I have to keep going," she thought. "If i keep going, it will never catch up with me. I will never have to deal with it."

She was growing more & more fatigued every second. Her lungs were starting to heave as she attempted to gulp air. "Ugh! I have to keep going!" she shouted out loud. She felt her right leg buckle from underneath her as she stepped on a loose rock about the size of a golf ball. She came crashing to her knees in tears of frustration.

She panted rapidly, trying to catch her breath. Her throat felt as though she had tried to swallow sand.
She slowly craned her neck around to her left. As her eyes began to focus, she could see the boulder in the distance, barreling towards her.
No..no!
She scrambled to get up but her legs were just too weak.
I--I can't--I...
and her hands slipped from under her once again as she fell face-first into the gravel and burst into tears.

She lifted her eyes and saw what appeared to be a figure coming her way. Wiping the tears from her eyes in a panic, she squinted to see what it was. With a quick glance behind her, her heart beat even faster and she turned to look at the man that seemed to be walking briskly towards her, as if he had some purpose in mind.
He walked with confidence, but looked gentle and kind.
As he approached her, he gave her a reassuring half-smile as he looked down at her.
"Doesn't he see it? It's coming right towards us!" she thought.
"S--Sir! There's---" she gasped for air. "it's--coming!"

The man didn't look surprised or worried. He just smiled and gave her a reassuring nod. He placed his hand on her head as he passed her, stopping right where her feet had ended up. A peace came over her.
He stood between her and the boulder. The boulder slowed and curved off the pathway, slowing still as it rolled onto the grass and finally halted.
"You..stopped it. Who--who ARE you?" she asked, full of wonder and an indescribable gratitute.
He smiled, picked her up off the ground, and hugged her.
She knew.
It was He who saves.

002.

"Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom."- 2 Corinthians 3:17.

It seemed as though her heart was going to burst. She felt freed by those words. She fell to her knees and tears started to pour down her face. She'd tried to keep it together, but the idea of this incomprehensible love melted away her inhibitions. Two planks of wood lain across one another and planted in the ground before her. How could they have any meaning? I mean, it was quite possible that two guys, having just learned how to use a powersaw and a hammer, constructed this pillar of truth, not capturing a minute passing notion of just what these beams symbolized. They might've just wanted a summer job so they could buy an X-box. Or something slightly more illegal.
As she thought about that, she weeped even harder. The magnitude of this instance in time could not possibly be comprehended by man intrigued by it, let alone one who doesn't care at all. Or hear of it at all. But that love was for them! How could they possibly know?
The tears in her eyes created an underwater view as she lifted her head and looked around her. Some of her classmates darted eyes in the face of an awkward situation to which they did not know how to react. They were studying this cathedral for history, not this "Jesus" crap. Others stared at her with a sense of hate. or confusion. One guy. One. She caught his eyes. She saw the pain in them. He wanted to join her, but he was afraid of the silence. Afraid of the stares she was now receiving. Who would wish that upon themselves? Why would you risk that? Hold it in. Hold it all in. Don't let them see you feel. This is NOT a world of humility. No one weeps! You keep it together. With all you have, you keep it together.
She took in a deep breath and looked back at the cross before her. Half-sobbing, she attempted to stand. Her legs felt as though she had just learned to walk. She turned around slowly. Her heart was beating faster than she'd ever felt it. Nothing was this real.
She took a few steps towards him. He shifted glances and sniffed to keep it together.
She said nothing. She simply wrapped her arms around him and whispered: "Where the spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom."
Nothing had ever resounded in his mind or his heart so clearly. He froze. People were staring. At HIM.
I don't care. NO! I DON'T care anymore! His mind yelled inside his head. And he wrapped his arms around her.
"I just needed to know I wasn't alone in this." He whispered back.

001.

"Romance can't possibly carry all that we want it to." -Donald Miller.

I like to write, so here is where I'll do it.
I've already written this one a while ago, but I thought I'd start with it anyways.


She walked into the room. A chill ran down her spine, and butterflies stirred in her stomach. There he was, staring at her. She looked back over her shoulder self-conciously, trying to decide whether it would be permissible for her to make a quick exit. She could not shake him now, he'd seen her. The sound of her Steve Madden shoes on the hardwood floor broke the silence. He smiled. Why had he smiled? She looked down, examining her crimson dress as she walked. It couldn't have been the dress. He stood to greet her. She stopped walking and looked to her right, avoiding eye contact. An 18th century portrait of a soldier hung on the wall beside the bookcase. "Hello," he said, kissing her on the cheek. Her concentration was broken. She managed half of a smile, then nervously eased away and sat on the worn velvet love seat. He offered her tea; she politely declined. She was good at that--being polite even in the worst of circumstances. She cleared her throat.
"I-It's a nice day...today," she managed to mutter.
"Yes, it is," he replied, eyeing her with every word. She shifted in her seat. The ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner grew increasingly louder. "You know, we must confront this eventually," he said to her. She turned her head. "I-I know," she replied.
"So what shall I do? I am in such a predicament. Tell your husband? I could. But what would I get out of that?"
He looked towards the ceiling and took a puff on his pipe. She glared.
"What do you want?" she insisted.
"Oh, I don't know. I shall have to think about that one. This is a mighty large piece of gossip I hold in my hand, don't you think? It should be worth plenty. What shall I ask for, hm?" he taunted.
She kept in her thoughts. She couldn't afford to speak up. All she could do was glare at him.
"Let's see," he continued. "Oh I know exactly what you could do for me in exchange for withholding this information. You do not want him to know about William, hm? How about you have William and your husband agree to sell the company to me? It's rather brilliant, I think."
"Sell the company? Those are two hard-working gentlemen you are refering to, and I won't have you steal everything they've worked for!" she couldn't hold it in.
"That sounded like an argument, to me. You know I do work only rooms away from your 'friend' William, as well as your husband. 'Twould be a shame to come between such a strong partnership."
She crossed her arms and looked away. A tear rolled down her cheek as she stared out the window of the study.
"That's what I thought," he said, smiling to himself. He rose and began walking to the door, not looking back at her.
"Ah, William, how do you do?" he said as he brushed past William and continued through the doorway.
She hurriedly wiped the tears from her cheeks and put on a half-hearted smile to greet him.