Ok so...this isn't really original, but it's genius.
Life is an adventure, a race, full of passion and excitement and the only way to really live it is to be running, side by side with God.
Sometimes during that race we tire of running and we give up momentarily; other times we run in the wrong direction and God has to remind us where it was we were going. Once in a while we run into someone who seems to be running in the same direction as us and we invite them to join, but before long we realize that that person is not running at our speed or in the same direction, and it throws us off our path with God.
But we need only to keep in stride with God and hope that someday we will meet a person who is running for the same reasons we are, at the same pace, and in the same direction.
That's when you'll know.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Friday, April 22, 2011
Love is a vicious cycle.
You strive so hard to become the person God made you to be, and in the process you come to realize you're worth more than you expected. But the minute you discover you're worth something, you yearn for someone who will love you for all that you are, and when you're finally with that person, you realize that you gave up a little bit of yourself for the love you thought you needed to have.
* * *
You strive so hard to become the person God made you to be, and in the process you come to realize you're worth more than you expected. But the minute you discover you're worth something, you yearn for someone who will love you for all that you are, and when you're finally with that person, you realize that you gave up a little bit of yourself for the love you thought you needed to have.
* * *
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Easter Egg Enterprise
Today was both special and ordinary. A Monday among Mondays, a dandelion in a field of similar ugly weeds. But today was my first and most explicit Easter Egg hunt memory. Why do college students participate in such a childish event? Because Easter Egg hunts turn even the most cultured, erudite individual into a snarling savage, like a child just out of reach of the cookie jar.
This momentous event began with a countdown by the RA, followed by a series of devilish shrieks and banshee yells as we all tried to outrun each other to the nearest pile of orange, purple, and green. Being as there were about 7 of these said piles and around 18 screaming girls (and a few unfortunate guys), this whole ordeal lasted a maximum of four minutes. As our pockets were overflowing with handfuls of these miniature treasure boxes and sweat/blood was dripping off every square inch of our skin, guilt started to creep in. For me at least. I looked around and saw a few poor souls who were simply not as fast and furious as myself who didn't get any Easter eggs, while my close friends and I were hoarding what I believe to be about 2/3 of the egg count, and I was transported back to that one time, almost farther back than I can remember, when I was that poor soul. As such, I was overcome with empathy and began handing out my eggs to those around me, like a re-born Grinch at Christmas or a springtide Santa Clause.
Feeling much lighter and gracious, the four of us headed back inside to divy up our spoils. The chocolate was the first to go (into our stomachs, that is), while the fruit-like candy sat around in 4 neat, even little piles. Baffled about what to do with it, the devilish, warrior-like savages that we had been forced to stifle in the presence of civilization started to rear their ugly heads again and candy started flying. For some odd reason, that candy started flying (and by flying I mean being thrown) in the direction of two places that normally don't have things thrown at them, if you know what I mean. If you don't, it was my crotch and Julia's shirt. This little play-game caught on quickly and may have lasted longer than the Easter Egg hunt itself. Needless to say, after fifteen minutes and every piece of that candy being in almost every place on the floor, we did not want to eat that candy. Said candy was dead to us.
Eager to find another way to entertain my beloved hallmates, I took it upon myself to, in the spirit of the holiday, demonstrate what it might look like if a chicken were to lay an Easter Egg. This proved to be quite successful and while I may have permanently harmed my reputation as a human being, I can say that I brought an ounce of joy into the lives of others. Not to mention finding another use for those cheap, plastic eggs, that can be taken advantage of in Easters to come.
While it might take the rest of the month to locate and eliminate all remnants of that fateful day, I believe that candy had the most fulfilling life a candy could ever ask for. That candy provided more happiness to a room full of college girls than it ever would have in the mouths of children.
This momentous event began with a countdown by the RA, followed by a series of devilish shrieks and banshee yells as we all tried to outrun each other to the nearest pile of orange, purple, and green. Being as there were about 7 of these said piles and around 18 screaming girls (and a few unfortunate guys), this whole ordeal lasted a maximum of four minutes. As our pockets were overflowing with handfuls of these miniature treasure boxes and sweat/blood was dripping off every square inch of our skin, guilt started to creep in. For me at least. I looked around and saw a few poor souls who were simply not as fast and furious as myself who didn't get any Easter eggs, while my close friends and I were hoarding what I believe to be about 2/3 of the egg count, and I was transported back to that one time, almost farther back than I can remember, when I was that poor soul. As such, I was overcome with empathy and began handing out my eggs to those around me, like a re-born Grinch at Christmas or a springtide Santa Clause.
Feeling much lighter and gracious, the four of us headed back inside to divy up our spoils. The chocolate was the first to go (into our stomachs, that is), while the fruit-like candy sat around in 4 neat, even little piles. Baffled about what to do with it, the devilish, warrior-like savages that we had been forced to stifle in the presence of civilization started to rear their ugly heads again and candy started flying. For some odd reason, that candy started flying (and by flying I mean being thrown) in the direction of two places that normally don't have things thrown at them, if you know what I mean. If you don't, it was my crotch and Julia's shirt. This little play-game caught on quickly and may have lasted longer than the Easter Egg hunt itself. Needless to say, after fifteen minutes and every piece of that candy being in almost every place on the floor, we did not want to eat that candy. Said candy was dead to us.
Eager to find another way to entertain my beloved hallmates, I took it upon myself to, in the spirit of the holiday, demonstrate what it might look like if a chicken were to lay an Easter Egg. This proved to be quite successful and while I may have permanently harmed my reputation as a human being, I can say that I brought an ounce of joy into the lives of others. Not to mention finding another use for those cheap, plastic eggs, that can be taken advantage of in Easters to come.
While it might take the rest of the month to locate and eliminate all remnants of that fateful day, I believe that candy had the most fulfilling life a candy could ever ask for. That candy provided more happiness to a room full of college girls than it ever would have in the mouths of children.
Monday, April 18, 2011
what a memorable world
About ten minutes ago, I tried to come up with what I thought was one of my best memories. I couldn't. And instead of snowballing into a massive pity session, I realized that I've been gifted with so many good memories I couldn't possibly pick just one, or even a few.
I remember all the times I got to fly to Florida to visit my grandparents and spend an entire week doing fun things with them. I remember a long time ago, getting out of the shower late at night and heading to the living room with a blanket and a good book. Church potlucks (endless amounts of food), family chats on the kitchen floor, midnight adventures out my bedroom window. Gosh...movie nights, silent football, endless summer volleyball games, bonfires, my half, attempt-at-a-surprise sixteenth birthday. Having someone you liked and denying it, all the while hoping someone will tell them behind your back. Road trips! Spending the night at a friend's house and getting sugar cereal in the morning! (Love you mom and dad, but why didn't we ever get sugar cereal?) Kissing in the rain (did I say that out loud?).
I could go on forever. Thanks God for so many good memories I can't keep track.
I remember all the times I got to fly to Florida to visit my grandparents and spend an entire week doing fun things with them. I remember a long time ago, getting out of the shower late at night and heading to the living room with a blanket and a good book. Church potlucks (endless amounts of food), family chats on the kitchen floor, midnight adventures out my bedroom window. Gosh...movie nights, silent football, endless summer volleyball games, bonfires, my half, attempt-at-a-surprise sixteenth birthday. Having someone you liked and denying it, all the while hoping someone will tell them behind your back. Road trips! Spending the night at a friend's house and getting sugar cereal in the morning! (Love you mom and dad, but why didn't we ever get sugar cereal?) Kissing in the rain (did I say that out loud?).
I could go on forever. Thanks God for so many good memories I can't keep track.
Friday, April 15, 2011
Day 25 and Struggling
I caved. I gave in to the luscious, mouth-watering allure of a caramel apple last night.
But to justify my actions, I would have wasted that good apple had I waited five more days.
I also discovered that I hate trying to explain myself to people. I somehow managed to make my month without sugar coincide almost exactly with Lent, and while I have nothing against those who might be honoring the occasion, I'm tired of trying to convince people that I'm doing it just "for fun", especially when so many others are much more sincere about it. I kind of feel like I'm rubbing it in others' faces.
Oh I also had a Girl Scout cookie, but does that even need justification?
Referring back to a conversation I had earlier, "I just want to buy a girl scout so I can have cookies all the time".
But to justify my actions, I would have wasted that good apple had I waited five more days.
I also discovered that I hate trying to explain myself to people. I somehow managed to make my month without sugar coincide almost exactly with Lent, and while I have nothing against those who might be honoring the occasion, I'm tired of trying to convince people that I'm doing it just "for fun", especially when so many others are much more sincere about it. I kind of feel like I'm rubbing it in others' faces.
Oh I also had a Girl Scout cookie, but does that even need justification?
Referring back to a conversation I had earlier, "I just want to buy a girl scout so I can have cookies all the time".
Friday, April 8, 2011
Infinite grace
For I am the least of the apostles, that I am not worthy to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God. But by the grace of God I am what I am: and his grace which was bestowed upon me was not in vain; but I labored more abundantly than they all: Yet not I, but the grace of God which was with me.
I Corinthians 15:9, 10
The beauty of grace is that it doesn't just work for great people or even just pretty good people. It works for losers and screw-ups. God used Paul because, just like he says in the verse, he was simply unworthy to do anything of the sort. Paul hated God, hated the church, and killed hundreds of innocent people, and out of all the people in the world, God chose him. If anyone should have been damned by God right then and there, it was this man. That's the whole point! God's grace works for anyone because it's not about the capability of that person. "I labored more abundantly than all, but NOT I, but the grace of God which was with me."
It only makes sense that grace works for everyone, because it's all God's doing, and he never changes.
I Corinthians 15:9, 10
The beauty of grace is that it doesn't just work for great people or even just pretty good people. It works for losers and screw-ups. God used Paul because, just like he says in the verse, he was simply unworthy to do anything of the sort. Paul hated God, hated the church, and killed hundreds of innocent people, and out of all the people in the world, God chose him. If anyone should have been damned by God right then and there, it was this man. That's the whole point! God's grace works for anyone because it's not about the capability of that person. "I labored more abundantly than all, but NOT I, but the grace of God which was with me."
It only makes sense that grace works for everyone, because it's all God's doing, and he never changes.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Day Number 14 and Sugar Free!
I'm currently cuddled up in a warm blanket on the floor of my dorm room, listening to Schumann, participating in useless but enjoyable conversations on Facebook, and slowly wasting away of starvation. As luck would have it, the only edible thing in my room is a fat, juicy bag of Hershey's kisses waving at me out of sheer cruelty from the shelf across the room. Thanks life, way to kick me when I'm writhing on the ground in pain.
I swear, once this thing is over I plan on buying a carton of cookie dough and eating the entire thing instantly. Last night I turned down homemade blueberry scones and this morning I walked away from a plate of Special K bars and a trough of blueberry crisp. That's not even humane.
That's all. More whining to come!
I swear, once this thing is over I plan on buying a carton of cookie dough and eating the entire thing instantly. Last night I turned down homemade blueberry scones and this morning I walked away from a plate of Special K bars and a trough of blueberry crisp. That's not even humane.
That's all. More whining to come!
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