Enough

There’s days I know I can’t make it without God. And no, It’s not in that whole, oh my gosh, I didn’t study for that test because I was too busy watching gossip girl, or I really need rent money but I spent everything I had on something I didn’t exactly need instead. No, today was more of one of those days where everything is so much. I have papers to write, exams to study for, groceries to buy, things to clean, pledge and chapter meetings to attend, rent check stuck in the mail box, no time to any of these things, and everyone breathing down my neck. It’s been crazy.

And so in the middle of all of this, my mommy Skypes me. And we have a normal conversation about life, until she asks what I have to do today, haha. And so I tell her, and I start bawling my eyes out because I feel like I can’t do any of it. (No, this isn’t going to be one of those posts where I say God can write my paper or do my exam for me. Although His power is limitless, that’s not where I am going, at all.) Talking to her, I literally wanted to curl up into the fetal position and cry. So she gives my computer a hug which cracks me up. Then she tells me to get up and go work on something, anything that will get me closer to where I need to be. And I tell her about all the problems I have had with my papers, and that I just can’t. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.

If you don’t know my mother, she is usually a great big cheerleader who would say, “nonsense! You can do this!” But instead, today, she says what is stopping you. And I tell her. And she says to move on to the next thing. When I say those things have to be done today and start crying again, she says something I have literally never heard her say in my entire life, my ENTIRE life.

“Go take a walk outside.”

Wait, what? I mean sure, that is a thing my dad would do. He loves walks. Before people had a name for it, he was a prayer walker. Yes, my dad prayer walked before it was cool.

“Just go outside and get some sunlight for 30 minutes. I promise it will be good for you.”

At the moment, I definitely brushed that off. I was like she is weird. That is a weird thing to say to me. So we said our goodbyes and I-love-you’s and we got off Skype. At that point, I checked my email and there was another email wanting my papers to be finished. So I just hurled myself at the computer, not knowing where to start.

That was when the song “Enough” by Chris Tomlin came into my head.

“All of you is more than enough for all of me, for every thirst and every need. You satisfy me, with your love. And all I have in You, is more than enough.”

While that song has absolutely nothing to do with stress, like maybe, if I was really trying to stretch it, it helped me. Because at that moment, I remember what happened last Thursday. I had been studying very hard for a class and getting a little frustrated. I didn’t think it showed, but the girl helping me told me to calm down. I didn’t think it showed. She reassured me that what we were studying was not a big deal and that I would get it.

What is crazy, is that is probably not even what she said. What I got from that situation, even though I thought it was no big deal at the time, is that what is happening right now, is not that big of a deal. Here is where that song is coming in. Even though I have all these super stressful things going on in my life, they are not my life.

God is life. God is my life. God is more than enough for me. He is more than all my hopes, more than all I can see.

Does that still mean that I have to do all of this work? Yes. Does that mean I still try my best? Of course. But what that also means is that this life is not the end all, be all. When I am putting my entire faith into God, He will bring his will into my life. And I can say that because I have seen it before. And it is truly incredible. And that song reminds me that yes, I have a lot to do. I need to do it. But when I am putting everything that I can towards my papers, my homework, cleaning, all in the name of God, I am bringing Him glory. He will bring the purpose and will for my life, no doubt.

So when I do everything to the best of my ability, I have no reason to fear. God has a plan for me. After all, if God is for me, then who can be against me?

Letter to Me, Non- Spoiler Edition

Hey Kid,

So it’s your senior year. You are finally the mascot. You have no idea how much that one little thing will change our life. You are involved in everything. And you’ll be shocked when you get to college that none of it really mattered. Cross country never really was your strong suit, but from that you acquired a ridiculous amount of heart that you are going to use later. When you randomly picked up yearbook and newspaper, you found your calling. Yeah sure, you’ll switch your major almost half a dozen times, but ultimately, you’ll go back to what you love.

You are going to go to college out-of-state. Where, will totally surprise you, but keep your expectations low, and your humility high. You will get a scholarship that will push you. It won’t break you. Don’t let it break your spirit. Be kind in everything, and try to get along with everyone no matter how unimportant you may think they are. They could become a huge part of your life.

And some of those people do. Is it unexpected? Sure, but you’ll learn that life is really unexpected. You think that right now you want to get out of this crappy place and everything will be rainbows and butterflies. You know what the words to that song truly are. It’s not always rainbows and butterflies; it’s compromise that moves us along.

So stay loyal to your friends here. They won’t be here forever.  You might fight because they date the wrong boy or girl, but I promise they will come running back to you when that person breaks their heart so stay kind. Share your crazy times at college with them. Invite them over. Go dancing. Go to restaurants and just chat. Just make sure you keep in touch or your summers and your weekends home are going to be really sad and empty.

Naturally, you are bound to feel that way in college too. As much as your parents annoy you, they really do love you. After your first boyfriend, you will understand just how many people love you. It will be difficult and beautiful all in the same breath. You’ll date again. And every single one of them will treat you better than he did.

Right now you are thinking that you will find the boy, or friends, of your dreams in a second. You think you know who you are right now. When you are tossed into a crazy mess of people you want to question that, you will be right back to square one. You lose yourself. You start living for other people. You were too busy trying to prove people wrong that you lost your happiness in the process. So quit the sorority, and don’t worry about making friends. Yes, it is still going to be hard, really really really hard. But you won’t miss it.  

That is because God has His hand on you in a huge way. You are going to stop going to church for a little bit because your friends tell you that is the cool thing to do. Then you’ll go again and get frustrated with religion. Then you will have the most difficult year of your life. You thought high school was bad, but now you don’t have your mom around the corner to give you a hug and kiss when people betray you and boys ruin your reputation.

It’ll happen for sure. You’ll get into messes that leave you with scars. But soon after you’ll meet people that turn your college experience around. They are loving and kind and wonderful. And you won’t even realize how big of a part of your life they are becoming. Lean on those people. They truly want what is best for you. In the end, it really does work out for the better.

Seriously, that year and all the horrible rotten things that happened shape you into who you are today. You back into church and you actually follow God. You are in your Bible sometimes. You want to know what He is saying in your life. God will speak through other people to you. Don’t neglect Him when that happens. Don’t run out of fear. He will bring you through a crazy dark place and put you in a wonderful one. And you had to go through that to trust Him, to see that He is enough, that He is all.

Never forget how beautiful you are, even without makeup or your hair done. If other people can’t see that, then don’t waste your time with them. Focus more on who you are than who or what you are wearing. Look at the inside of people. Get to know their dreams and aspirations. Find a friend that you can tell all of your secrets to. You will. So don’t give up. 

Life is messy. School is pretty easy. Don’t be bitter. Things will work out, just trust in the Lord. You make mistakes, but the right people will look beyond that. Love yourself and do things even if no one else wants to do them with you. Live a life that you will be proud of. And never, ever, ever give up.

Love your future self
Summit High School
Class of 2010

So maybe it's cliche: a poem

so maybe it’s cliche.
maybe it’s grand design. 
maybe there are a lot of things 
that don’t make sense any
way they’re sliced.
maybe I won’t know it now,

But maybe I’ll know it then.
That standing by yourself
content, is better than 
standing next to a questionable him.
I know that for a fact right now,
even though I don’t want to 
face it. I just roll the windows down,
enjoy my freedom, and make 
sure not to abuse it.

Because I’ve been a sinner
and a saint, but I but confess:
the best times of all I was
just enjoying life, but I digress.
Now I’m just going to
keep on keeping on. My life is not
a game of chess. 

I should not be anyone’s pawn.
I don’t need to be, I don’t want to be,
I’ve learned as life’s gone on. 
I thought I did in not so many words,
but as it turns out I’ve proven myself wrong.

So here’s to being a free-spirit
to any matter life throws my way.
I’ll catch and I’ll toss it back, 
and weave my path just
for my living today.

How I Pick Books

           Whenever I read books, I always like to get them from the library. I absolutely hate buying books. Sure, bookstores smell cool and all, and I feel eccentric and adventurous whenever I am in one, but I am super cheap. I like to conserve money where and whenever I can.

             Also, when I was really little, my mother would take us to the library once or twice a month and we would get French Fries from the little fast food joint across the street.  And from time to time, I would find nice little inspirational notes written from other readers in my library books which would make me so happy. These two occurrences have always helped me associate reading in a positive manner. 

             So I like libraries. And if there is one thing you should know about me, it is that I head to the Teen Section the minute I get in there. I like reading YA books. Since I grew up in an ultra-conservative household, I have always been graphic language, violence, gore, and sexual content adverse. Even though I am now into my twenties, I still read the books with the neon green TEEN sticker on the binding. And if I ever decide to become an author, or attempt to, I will probably stick to that genre. 

             After I am in the teen section, I pick a part of the wall to look at for the day. It might be authors with the name Da- Gr. Some days I pick bindings that look really awesome. Other days when I am feeling more adventurous, I pick books with ugly bindings, with the ugliest of covers. And I don't read what it is about. That is one of my biggest rules. 

              When I pick up a book that looks interesting or boring, depending on my mood, I will flip a couple of pages in and look for the page that says Text copyright with a date and the author's name. Most of the time, there will be a summary of the book followed by the categories that it would be put in. I've found that most of my favorite books are in the Interpersonal Relationship category.

              But I don't stick to just one category! Most of the time, I like to read romantic books, but I am not afraid of other genres. I have found that I like First Person or Third Person Omniscient books over all of the other kinds. And in my Professional Writing class, I learned that most people dislike those the most (so strange)! 

              If the summary or the categories sound interesting, I get the book. If not, I keep looking. But I never read the book jacket. I'm one of those people that if I know the general plot, I can predict the ending. So I really love the whole "going-in-blind" thing. It makes the book so much more enjoyable to me. There are very few times that I will stop reading a book that I have found with this method.

             Usually it is because the character is too crass, mouthy, or unintelligent for me to keep reading about their life. If they are unlikable, I will stop reading too. Most of the time, I power through and hope that I will be a better reader and writer at the end of the book. 

            And that's the method to my madness of how I pick the books I read.

   

            

Book Review: Rules- Cynthia Lord

             Rules by Cynthia Lord is an easy 200 page read that I finished within 2-3 hours. The front cover boasts a Newberry Honor as well as a Schneider Family Book Award. In some other lifetime, I would probably recall what those meant. However, I saw those as indicators that this book wouldn't be too terrible. And it wasn't terrible at all.

              For starters, Rules is about Catherine, a 12 year old girl's life with her autistic younger brother. It is a great look into how the friends and family members of special needs individuals deal with their own lives. She loves her brother, but throughout the book there is a constant desire for her to feel like every other person with "normal" siblings.

             On every Tuesday and Thursday, she goes with her mom and brother to his Occupational Therapy appointments because she likes to have time with her mother without her brother's interruption. While there, she meets Jason and they become friends. She tries to find out who she is, how she fits in with her family and the world.

              This book would be absolutely wonderful for people who feel like they are overshadowed by a sibling for any reason. Although hers was more of a burden, I think kids with over-achieving siblings could also relate. Younger children who are just getting into chapter books would enjoy this book as well. However, there is not much depth to the characters to teens over the age of 13-14 might get bored quickly.

              All in all, Rules is a great book for beginning readers. As a parent of a child with autism, she conveys Catherine's frustration with the brother in a way that still makes the character likable to the reader. It would be a recommended read for 2nd- 5th graders!

Wait, what?

Last night, I was cruising through tumblr.com. It is a blogosphere where people post videos, pictures, poetry, prose, GIFs, sound bites, and other miscellaneous things. While usually for fun, sometimes it is a platform for human rights, particularly gay rights, or current events and users reactions to it. But yesterday, something was different about what I saw on my dashboard (,which is kind of  like a person's personal homepage on tumblr).
          I saw a sound player with captions about how what people heard from the sound player was not real. So of course my curiosity was peaked and I had to listen to whatever sound  bite these people were talking about. I expected something really cool, or something the people of tumblr thought was really cool. Perhaps a mashup from the boys of One Direction or a song from quotes by Regina George would be what I would hear.
          It was not. Instead, at first I heard nothing which made me think that I hadn't pushed play. Then right as i was about to try again, I heard a voice say,"This is 9-1-1. What is your emergency?" And the rest of the twenty minute sound bite was a real call to 911 from a seventeen year old boy that had just killed his mother and his sister 30 minutes prior.
          Wait, what?           That was my first reaction. But the boy was so calm about everything. And the 911 operator was as well. If someone had called me about killing someone, I would probably not have handled the whole situation as eloquently as she did. The entire time, the boy kind of tried to explain that he had been thinking about killing - anyone, really- for a while now and he just wanted his mom and sister to be in as little pain as possible as they were dying.
          And the 911 operator sounded so understanding the whole time. She empathized with the boy. She assured him that everything would be okay, that he would find the help he needed. Even when the boy talked about how messed up he was going to be.
         Wait, what?
         I thought again. He had two more sisters and a father that were on away. They were going to have to get phone calls in the middle of the night saying that his son, their brother, had killed two members of their family. The grandparents who lived across the street had to hear the same news. Yet, all he could think about was how this was going to mess him up.
         Throughout the whole conversation, I don't think that he truly understood the weight of what he had just done carried. He said that he didn't like the feeling of knowing he had just killed people. The fact that they were dead didn't seem to bother him, but that he had killed him. Through the whole thing, he seemed selfish, but not a monster. Listening to the tape, I felt almost sorry for him. It wasn't that he lived in a super abusive home, or it didn't sound that way. The way he described his home life was that his family was just rude to each other, and he didn't like that. He said that was why he killed them.
         But there was no anger in his voice. There was no sadness. It was so so strange. For the family, I don't even know what I would feel. If my brother had done something like this, I would just be sad. But I don't know all of the details around the situation, so can't say what it would be like for his family. All I know is that this going to be a very difficult time, for the family and the boy. And all I can say is that I want to keep them in my prayers.

Kaleidoscopes

Looking through a kaleidoscope might be how I view the world-

a little confusing all the time, but ever as beautiful as anything.

and the jumbled mess of the shapes, sizes, and colors are

what define our world quite possibly, what define my kaleidoscope.

But what would happen if we don't like what we see?

Are we going to toss away our kaleidoscopes and adopt a new

pessimistic outlook on life because its different.

Things change. People come to different conclusions,

All I can say is thank heaven.

What if we never twisted the kaleidoscope,

never turned to upside down, shook things up?

And maybe that's exactly what happens every day.

We get so angry and moved when the little things change.

It’s not actually earthshattering that we are changing

from plastic cups to glass cups, from high chairs

to normal chairs, for beds to cribs. And it’s not our perspective.

Maybe because in all the change, in the stirring up,

the shaking around, all the moments , we are trying to

find that one thing, one person, one place, one idea

that won't change. That hasn't changed. Because we have been told

not everything will change. It doesn't have to happen.

The skeleton of our kaleidoscope remains. The circle,

the square, the triangle, the octagon, was the shape you were given.

You work with it. You could go get a new one,

but that is taking the easy way out. And it sounds so good.

On the contrary, when you think about it, really think

about it, you realize that even though your kaleidoscope

has changed into something you may not recognize,

it’s the same things in different places: people, ideas, and

priorities. But the outline, the triangular view is yours.

You see it the way you want to see it.

All the while when we are trying to grasp something

physical, we miss the fact that the physical is all that will never be there.

People go away, places fade, and we forget ideas.

But we have our outlook on life, our pessimism,

our optimism, the ways we find joy and recover from sadness.

And I am one of those crazy individuals who believes

they can hold onto God through it all. QWhen

I thought my kaleidoscope was broken, it was just because I had

not let anyone see the inside of it. When I let God see inside

he shook it up. He changed me. I can't ever figure out

how it use to be. I remember, yes, but I don't want to back.

He made it so much more beautiful by allowing

him move it around to change my view.

And he's become what holds my skeleton, what holds me, together.

Finding Herself in the Pages

Finding Herself in the Pages

            Although it had seemed like since the dawn of time, the journal had only entered her life a little over a week ago. Yet it had made such a tremendous impact on her life. It was first brought up in AP Psychology class how there are numerous benefits of writing in a journal for fifteen minutes a day. She was the skeptic of all skeptics.

            “Never in my life could writing in such a petty thing as a journal improve my quality of life,” she thought as she stared bleakly at the rest of the class. Nevertheless, the challenge was there and she was bound and determined to conquer the mountain known as journaling.

Intimidating silence entered her heart like a shy puppy when she pulled out the bright yellow, 1 subject, 70 sheet, standard, Wal-Mart edition, wide-ruled spiral, even though at first she thought it would have been a piece of cake. The object looked no different than her math or history journal. No, that was not what caused such a fright within her soul. What her worry was founded on was the fact that she had to put every little thing on paper in order for the experiment to work correctly. By doing that that she felt as though she was just confirming truths she wished had never existed.

When she approached the starting line of her first journal, anxiety was not the first thing on her mind, or paper.  Splashing with emotions from the school and work day she half-heartedly released her life onto the pages of the yellow spiral. Talking about fears for her senior year of college and confusions about God’s plan for her life and the lives of her friends, she attempted as much honesty as can be expected at a first meeting.  

Contrary to common belief, she did not lollygag one bit. During the writing process she remained entirely calm and quiet. As the timer was running like a freight train, the only sound that escaped from her vicinity was the noise of a black ball-point pen fervently scratching away at the crisp white paper.

Except the next time she joined her faithful spiral pal at the table to scrawl the worries of the world away, her entire demeanor was more like a stampede as buffalo than an ambiguous duck gliding across a pond with ease. She pounded the words onto the page with such authority that they had left indentations on the page. The ridges made with her pen were like raised hieroglyphics; it consisted of things only she could understand at first glance, but with deep investigation could be deciphered. That was the method to the madness known as her journal.

Sparsely using names, barely identifying, characters, and almost censoring herself, was the only real way she felt she could safely journal. Just when it seemed like she kept writing towards social desirability, that was when the floodgates of her soul were shattered and her teenage angst was spread throughout the next two pages and beyond.

Like wildfire, she now had a deep, burning desire for nothing more than pure honesty. She told it like it was. Bloodshot eyes say the pen that wrote of the day’s defeat. Chilling tears stung her hand and soaked through the paper as she wrote of her qualms. The pungent odor of despair flooded her nostrils. Almost like rain and fire, the smell captivated her senses and only caused her to express her emotions more vividly. On the beginning she never anticipated that a trite journal would hit home as strongly and swiftly as it did.

Subsequently, the journal experiment from her AP Psychology class was finished; she could stand and say that 28 lines on a page are more powerful than can be put into words. Strength is in words. Between those two covers is the story of a girl who fought demons big and small, had enormous comebacks beautifully tragically losses, and she ultimately fell in love, except it was not in the traditional sense. She accomplished the tremendous task of finding herself, accepting others, and trying her hardest to make things turn out for the best.

Now those lines are nothing but a distant past. Yellowing pages and smudging ink are the only memorabilia she has the from the journaling period of her life.  It was her saving grace. Her joy was found in the Lord during that time, when nothing else felt constant.

                        If walls could talk, they would tell of all the juicy slumber party secrets. If friends would talk, they would tell of personal vendettas and loves they always wanted. The one thing that could tell everything would be her journal. Engrained into her soul, the journal was a big part of her life during her teenage years. As soon as the experiment was finished, she too had moved on and it was a chapter of her life that closed. She had an avenue that she needed to travel for a brief time to express her without fear. On those few pages,confessions of a teenage, finding her way, was born.

Identity as a Sorority Woman: Letters don't label me

Getting caught up in all the glitter, and rhinestones, and pageantry of sorority life was something I never thought would happen to me. The rich heritage of Greek life was never founded on superficialities.

Character, academics, and volunteerism were the staples which I was raised on. It made logical sense to me, after talking to many Greek alumni about how their sorority or fraternity had brought out all those good aspects of them, to go Greek. Knowing that my friendships were based on centuries of other women’s friendships was such an awe-inspiring idea.

So just a few weeks before my freshman year, I went through formal Sorority Recruitment and came out on the other side as a new member. The sorority I got a bid from was a group of the type of women that I had looked up to- they were pretty, involved, and as far as I could tell, genuinely cared for one another. I was excited to work side-by-side with them in both work and play.

Yet, soon after I became a new member, I became entranced by anything that could be emblazoned by Greek letters. Slowly but surely, I became more focused on how I packaged myself as a sorority girl than on the great values my sisterhood was founded upon. Without a word said directly to me, I began thinking that I was not a “real sorority girl” if I did not wear Nike shorts and oversized t-shirts.

Since college is rumored to be the time when people develop who they are as a person, I thought this was just the road I was supposed to take. I should look like everyone and be like everyone else because they just look so happy.

What I came to find out, is that they were becoming themselves. When I tried to copy everyone else’s style, I lost track of who I really am as an individual. Somehow, I still thought I was a great representation of my sorority. I mean, I dressed the part, I would tell everyone about how much I loved my sisters. I even volunteered for lots of things! What is wrong with that? Nothing, I thought.

Until one day I woke up. I realized that I had founded my entire identity into trying to become the perfect sorority woman. The perfect sorority woman is not someone who runs around constantly blabbering on and on and on about how much they love their Greek Life. The perfect sorority woman is not someone who always wears Lilly Pulitzer or Polo. The perfect sorority woman is not someone who is based on trivial things.

That is because those things are not what makes a sorority woman. Those aspects are neither bad nor good, unless someone makes them their idol like I did. The things that define us are our character, our absolute and honest love for each other, and how we treat people. When I embraced the fact that my values, not my outfit was what made me a sorority girl, my experience was so much more enriching. Then, my eyes were opened to seeing more than a girl walking down the street in another sorority’s letter, but a woman who had values and principles that have been shared for centuries.

Poetry: Diamond in the Rough

Diamond in the Rough

In case you don't know it or you never hear it,
You've gotten better.
Not in the way I would have suspected.
You became more attractive, but you became the biggest prick.
For that I am sorry.
I'm sorry for making you into that.

But I'm more sorry for the fact that our bridge is so long burned
that I can never tell you how grateful I am that we met.
My life would have been so so so different.
Did we royally screw each other over
And play the most epic game of who-can-act-like-they-care-less?

Yes, yes we did. And I just want to say,
That even though when you thought you were destroying me,
It was only getting me ready
To be the best version of myself possible.
I had a hellish semester last year thanks to your shenanigans.

Yet, it got me out of a rut of unhappiness
I had been oblivious to for far too long.
Even though I had to go through a cloud of depression
To see that I was better off without you and them.

To this day,
you are one of the greatest influences of my life
because you built me up
And broke me down in ways no one else ever has.
 You caused some of my happiest memories.
And you pushed me down the trail towards
The most difficult things I have ever had to face.
For that, most people would hate you.

Now seeing where I am,
How far I have come,
And how much I love myself and those around me,
I applaud you.

And even though you a just a sliver
of the amazing person I once knew,
I hope you find the spark that I somehow managed to take away.
I thought you made me bitter;
but all you did was make me better
Than I never thought I could be.

I just hope that someday
You can find someone who reignites you
to being the passionate world-changer you were
when I first met you.

So here's to you.
Right now, you’re just a piece of coal under pressure.

New Blog!

As someone that loves to write, I have had many types of blogs. However, I had yet to make a Blogger, so this was born. I'm not sure what the theme will be yet, but I'll figure it out and then let you know! Enjoy!