So by the way, because I'm still on vacation I'm using my brand-spanking-new iPod to type so if you see any weird auto corrects that's why.
And yes, I am actually on the first family vacation in about six years. It has definitely been amazing and fun, but I for one am ready to go home.
It started on Sunday with my sweet sixteen. We made a pet rock family, and I named my rock Francois. Although the lad-rock is American, he has an identity-crisis and thinks that he's french.
We also did the "Twinkie challenge", which the ten year old, David, came the closest to winning. And the he threw up.
We left on Monday to my grandparents' house and then went on to the Unicoi Springs camp ground on Tuesday. Out of 24 immediate family members, we were only missing four. Unfortunately that included my dad.
David has taken around three hundred pictures to show him, and I've been emailing him. We've all missed him on this trip.
BUT we did go to the fair and spent lots of money and rode rides and got cartoon drawings ourselves and glitter tattoos and watched pig races and all kinds of fun things.
It's been great to be able to see all of our cousins. Me and the three older cousins did a cover of the song "Hallelujah" from the movie "Shrek". When I get back I'll post it, and perhaps some of the more flattering photos.
On a religious note, I'm very proud of myself for keeping active in my prayer life. The only time I missed something was when I accidentally left the Little Office in my suitcase between Monday night and Tuesday morning. That was it!
We have final fun things planned for today and tomorrow, and then I'll be home! I have greatly enjoyed myself as I know that the rest of my family has, too. But now it's time to go home.
See you soon!
Saturday, July 28, 2012
Saturday, July 21, 2012
We Are All Sheep At Heart
One of the scriptures for Mass this week circled around sheep. Again. Always sheep. They're mentioned so often you either grow to hate the metaphor or you love it. You know me. I love it.
We are all sheep. We know that. We know that God is our shepherd and He takes care of His flock. We've heard all that before. What you never hear about is "wild sheep".
Think about it. I can almost guarantee you have never before in your life ever heard about "the wild sheep of the Netherlands" or the "feral sheep of Wisconsin". You don't hear about wild cows, either. Or goats. It seems that sheep, cows, and goats were made for the human race. It seems that to live on their own in the wild is impossible.
Let's fantasize about sheep for a moment.
Sheep lives in wild. Fall comes. Sheep grows glorious coat. Winter comes. Sheep is warm. Spring comes. Sheep is warm. Spring gets hotter. Sheep is uncomfortably warm. Summer arrives. Sheep needs a strong AC system that is not available to sheep in the wild.
Sheep need people to cut off all that glorious wool so that they don't overheat, and when winter comes around their coat isn't thin or disgusting or unprepared for the cold.
And don't forget the wolves! Sheep aren't exactly the best at keeping themselves alive, hence the pens made of thorns people of the B.C. era would make around their flock and fire to keep the lions and/or wolves out and away. Sheep just kind of ramble around and say "baa" and do their own sheepy thing. A legit shepherd would probably disagree, but if he disagrees, then why is he with the sheep in the first place? Face it. Sheep need someone to take care of them and protect them. It's inevitable.
Never in the Bible (to my knowledge) does it every say "wild sheep", but it definitely says "lost sheep" quite a lot, especially once Jesus enters the picture. It's true. We, as imperfect creatures, must have someone to take care of us. While we might not need someone to cut off all our hair once a year and turn it into soft jackets or Brown Scapulars, don't we need someone to provide for us? Don't we need someone to guide us to wonderful places? Don't we need someone to reassure us in the storm and say "It'll be okay. You'll see."? Don't we need someone to protect us from the wolves and lions of this world? Someone to sacrifice his own life for our sake? Someone to love us? Yes. Oh ginger ale, yes we do.
Let's face it. Like sheep, we're no good at staying alive by ourselves. We might get lucky for awhile, but luck isn't God. Luck doesn't last forever. God is eternal. Why put our faith into something that feeds on chance? Why not put our faith into something--or Someone--who will never, ever fail us?
I mentioned you don't hear about wild sheep, only lost sheep and dependent sheep (you know how on tax forms minors are called 'dependents'?). I find this accurate. Because it is impossible for us to survive without God, when we are away from God, are we not away from home? A child drifting from home may at first delight in the adventures that await her, but when she realizes she can no longer see the lights from her house or the car in her driveway, will she not begin to worry? Will she begin to see the shadows and not merely the sun? Will not drivers on the road suddenly seem reckless and dangerous? When she sees an apple, will she not think of "Snow White"? Not that all lost children are small girls looking at apples in other peoples driveways. It's just an example, but do we not all have our own apples?
But this is about sheep. Not apples.
Long story short, God is home. Away from Home, we are lost. Where will we go? Who will take care of us? I believe firmly that we are all children at heart. I suppose I should add sheep to go with that belief. I can't wait to see that "I believe we're all sheep at heart". But in all seriousness, aren't we? Like children, someone must care for us and love and protect us. Like sheep, someone must feed us and look after us and protect us. As God's little-people-that-He-takes-care-of-whatever-word-it-is-that-I-can't-remember-right-now, does He not do these things? And when we are lost does He not come and find us and lead us home again?
There is no such thing as a wild sheep, only the lost sheep and the dependent sheep. Which are you?
We are all sheep. We know that. We know that God is our shepherd and He takes care of His flock. We've heard all that before. What you never hear about is "wild sheep".
Think about it. I can almost guarantee you have never before in your life ever heard about "the wild sheep of the Netherlands" or the "feral sheep of Wisconsin". You don't hear about wild cows, either. Or goats. It seems that sheep, cows, and goats were made for the human race. It seems that to live on their own in the wild is impossible.
Let's fantasize about sheep for a moment.
Sheep lives in wild. Fall comes. Sheep grows glorious coat. Winter comes. Sheep is warm. Spring comes. Sheep is warm. Spring gets hotter. Sheep is uncomfortably warm. Summer arrives. Sheep needs a strong AC system that is not available to sheep in the wild.
Sheep need people to cut off all that glorious wool so that they don't overheat, and when winter comes around their coat isn't thin or disgusting or unprepared for the cold.
And don't forget the wolves! Sheep aren't exactly the best at keeping themselves alive, hence the pens made of thorns people of the B.C. era would make around their flock and fire to keep the lions and/or wolves out and away. Sheep just kind of ramble around and say "baa" and do their own sheepy thing. A legit shepherd would probably disagree, but if he disagrees, then why is he with the sheep in the first place? Face it. Sheep need someone to take care of them and protect them. It's inevitable.
Never in the Bible (to my knowledge) does it every say "wild sheep", but it definitely says "lost sheep" quite a lot, especially once Jesus enters the picture. It's true. We, as imperfect creatures, must have someone to take care of us. While we might not need someone to cut off all our hair once a year and turn it into soft jackets or Brown Scapulars, don't we need someone to provide for us? Don't we need someone to guide us to wonderful places? Don't we need someone to reassure us in the storm and say "It'll be okay. You'll see."? Don't we need someone to protect us from the wolves and lions of this world? Someone to sacrifice his own life for our sake? Someone to love us? Yes. Oh ginger ale, yes we do.
Let's face it. Like sheep, we're no good at staying alive by ourselves. We might get lucky for awhile, but luck isn't God. Luck doesn't last forever. God is eternal. Why put our faith into something that feeds on chance? Why not put our faith into something--or Someone--who will never, ever fail us?
I mentioned you don't hear about wild sheep, only lost sheep and dependent sheep (you know how on tax forms minors are called 'dependents'?). I find this accurate. Because it is impossible for us to survive without God, when we are away from God, are we not away from home? A child drifting from home may at first delight in the adventures that await her, but when she realizes she can no longer see the lights from her house or the car in her driveway, will she not begin to worry? Will she begin to see the shadows and not merely the sun? Will not drivers on the road suddenly seem reckless and dangerous? When she sees an apple, will she not think of "Snow White"? Not that all lost children are small girls looking at apples in other peoples driveways. It's just an example, but do we not all have our own apples?
But this is about sheep. Not apples.
Long story short, God is home. Away from Home, we are lost. Where will we go? Who will take care of us? I believe firmly that we are all children at heart. I suppose I should add sheep to go with that belief. I can't wait to see that "I believe we're all sheep at heart". But in all seriousness, aren't we? Like children, someone must care for us and love and protect us. Like sheep, someone must feed us and look after us and protect us. As God's little-people-that-He-takes-care-of-whatever-word-it-is-that-I-can't-remember-right-now, does He not do these things? And when we are lost does He not come and find us and lead us home again?
There is no such thing as a wild sheep, only the lost sheep and the dependent sheep. Which are you?
Friday, July 20, 2012
Lighthouse Everything Skit
One of my favorite songs. One of my favorite videos. One of my favorite artists. One of my favorite messages.
A wonderful summary of the general population, teenage and young adult especially. It reminds me that God is on my side. He is a God Who fights for the one He loves. He loves me and you and our neighbors and friends and family and everyone. He fights for us. He's there no matter what. We do whatever we do, and when we make that decision to run back to Him, He's already running back to us, trying to get to us more than we're trying to get to Him. It's the most beautiful love in the universe. It's Everything.
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
A Unicorn Among Us
Okay, I'm going to through a question out there. I don't want anyone to run away or scream "BLASPHEMY" or reread it four or fives times.
But, what if Mother Mary was a unicorn?
In really old stories, there is traditionally only 1 unicorn, always white to symbolize its purity. The unicorn roams the earth watching over the natural world and the human race. Through the centuries, the unicorn was seen in different colors, sizes, and shapes, even with different names and stories. But it was still a unicorn. Sound familiar?
This idea came to me only this morning as I was praying the "Little Office of the Blessed Virgin Mary". I was reading one of Saint Anselm's sermons and he was creating the image of a paradox with the whole "Mary gave birth to the one who created her" scenario, which is both confusing and perfectly clear simultaneously. Somewhere in there my mind drifted a bit, and suddenly the Mary and the unicorn idea just went "BOOM".
No, I'm not literally saying Mary is a mythical horse with a horn and magical powers. After 20 posts, you should know me better than that. Although this isn't a metaphor meeting, it's a simile showdown.
Mary was the purest woman ever to walk the earth. The unicorn is the purest creature to walk the earth, symbolized by its traditionally white coat.
Mary watched over her Son during her days here, and now in Heaven she watches over all her human children. The unicorn watches over the earth to keep disaster from occurring, and is often the purifier of corrupted water, forests, valleys, crops, etc. and the protector of children.
Mary has 12 Queenly titles along with countless Our Lady titles, like Our Lady Star of the Sea, Our Lady of Mt. Carmel, Our Lady of Lourdes, and Our Lady of Guadalupe. The unicorn has been called the rhinoceros, xie zhi, kirin, kirin, oryx, lord of the desert, and aurochs.
Make sense? It did to me, but I'm kind of wacko, so that means little, I suppose.
Mary as a Unicorn. Pretty image.
Unicorn Names: http://www.dianapeterfreund.com/books/unicorns/research/
But, what if Mother Mary was a unicorn?
In really old stories, there is traditionally only 1 unicorn, always white to symbolize its purity. The unicorn roams the earth watching over the natural world and the human race. Through the centuries, the unicorn was seen in different colors, sizes, and shapes, even with different names and stories. But it was still a unicorn. Sound familiar?
This idea came to me only this morning as I was praying the "Little Office of the Blessed Virgin Mary". I was reading one of Saint Anselm's sermons and he was creating the image of a paradox with the whole "Mary gave birth to the one who created her" scenario, which is both confusing and perfectly clear simultaneously. Somewhere in there my mind drifted a bit, and suddenly the Mary and the unicorn idea just went "BOOM".
No, I'm not literally saying Mary is a mythical horse with a horn and magical powers. After 20 posts, you should know me better than that. Although this isn't a metaphor meeting, it's a simile showdown.
Mary was the purest woman ever to walk the earth. The unicorn is the purest creature to walk the earth, symbolized by its traditionally white coat.
Mary watched over her Son during her days here, and now in Heaven she watches over all her human children. The unicorn watches over the earth to keep disaster from occurring, and is often the purifier of corrupted water, forests, valleys, crops, etc. and the protector of children.
Mary has 12 Queenly titles along with countless Our Lady titles, like Our Lady Star of the Sea, Our Lady of Mt. Carmel, Our Lady of Lourdes, and Our Lady of Guadalupe. The unicorn has been called the rhinoceros, xie zhi, kirin, kirin, oryx, lord of the desert, and aurochs.
Make sense? It did to me, but I'm kind of wacko, so that means little, I suppose.
Mary as a Unicorn. Pretty image.
Monday, July 16, 2012
Why You Should Go To Adoration
I realized during Adoration today that I've never actually outwardly mentioned Adoration. I was sitting in that beautiful, little Chapel and started wondering why it was I enjoyed Adoration so much. Although a simple list, it's a beautiful list, I think.
Before I go on, if you've never gone to Adoration--GO. It's a fantastic opportunity to be near God and have some one-on-one time. Going on a retreat with lots of other people is an amazing experience, but going alone is beautiful, too. So, GO.
Now. Reasons why Adoration is amazing:
1.) You're close to God.
We're always close to God, because He is always near us. But praying in your bedroom is quite different from praying in front of the Holy Eucharist. The Eucharist is not only the highlight of the Mass, it's one of the focuses of the entire Catholic Church! Adoration isn't just "let's adore God" it's to specifically adore the Blessed Sacrament of Communion! Where I live, I'm the only nerd that calls it the Adoration Chapel. It's officially the Blessed Sacrament Chapel. How much closer can you be to Jesus Himself than when partaking in the Eucharist? And then we have this amazing opportunity to go and behold it for... however long!
2.) There's not a right or wrong way to go to Adoration.
In moderation, of course. But in general, in Adoration you can devoutly pray and/or kneel. Or you can just have some talk-with-God time or listen quietly to Christian music with headphones or read the Bible or even sleep! You'd be sleeping in the direct presence of Christ! It might not be comfy physically, but I've personally never felt safer.
3.) If you're alone, you can speak out loud.
Well, technically, you can speak out loud anytime, but unless you're in a large room with very few people, it can be disruptive/distracting. And besides, when you're alone, you're less self-conscious about what you're saying. You can say anything to God already, and saying it out loud seems more real to us humans who feel like we need direct human interaction. Like going to Confession is soothing for the guilty soul because we talk about what we've done wrong, talking to God out loud feels like we're having a human interaction and brings us closer to Him. I love speaking out loud to Him for these reasons. I sound crazy, I know, but for those of you that know what I mean--well, you get it. If you haven't spoken out loud, or are afraid to for various reasons, try it. You won't be disappointed.
4.) It's a good place to just get things out there.
Just talk. God wants you to talk to Him, and what better place to do so than in the presence of the Blessed Sacrament? Go to Adoration when you're lonely or mad or thankful or ecstatic or having a bad day or having an average day. God will be there waiting for you. Not that you can't speak to Him outside of Adoration or somewhere like that, because I'm not saying that. But Adoration is a special place to speak to Him. Going to Adoration and knowing who's there tends to lift people's emotions to a heightened awareness and makes them spill over. Your soul/heart/mind is a sink and life fills that sink to the brim with water, but the drain lets it just go on past you. Adoration plugs up the sink and the sink fills up with water and you have to sort through it and face it. Crying/wanting to cry/almost crying is not uncommon for me in Adoration. Being in front of the Blessed Sacrament is just one of those places where my whole being screams "ALL THE FEELINGS".
Those are just my reasons for loving it, along with the little things like it's quiet and peaceful and stuff like that. I could sit in Adoration for hours and hours without being bored or wondering what time it was. As I said before, if you haven't gone to Adoration--GO. SOON. Most Church's have it open at least the first Friday of every month, and I've heard of many having it open before Mass or on special feast days and things.
So, what have we learned?
Adoration=Amazing. YES.
Before I go on, if you've never gone to Adoration--GO. It's a fantastic opportunity to be near God and have some one-on-one time. Going on a retreat with lots of other people is an amazing experience, but going alone is beautiful, too. So, GO.
Now. Reasons why Adoration is amazing:
1.) You're close to God.
We're always close to God, because He is always near us. But praying in your bedroom is quite different from praying in front of the Holy Eucharist. The Eucharist is not only the highlight of the Mass, it's one of the focuses of the entire Catholic Church! Adoration isn't just "let's adore God" it's to specifically adore the Blessed Sacrament of Communion! Where I live, I'm the only nerd that calls it the Adoration Chapel. It's officially the Blessed Sacrament Chapel. How much closer can you be to Jesus Himself than when partaking in the Eucharist? And then we have this amazing opportunity to go and behold it for... however long!
2.) There's not a right or wrong way to go to Adoration.
In moderation, of course. But in general, in Adoration you can devoutly pray and/or kneel. Or you can just have some talk-with-God time or listen quietly to Christian music with headphones or read the Bible or even sleep! You'd be sleeping in the direct presence of Christ! It might not be comfy physically, but I've personally never felt safer.
3.) If you're alone, you can speak out loud.
Well, technically, you can speak out loud anytime, but unless you're in a large room with very few people, it can be disruptive/distracting. And besides, when you're alone, you're less self-conscious about what you're saying. You can say anything to God already, and saying it out loud seems more real to us humans who feel like we need direct human interaction. Like going to Confession is soothing for the guilty soul because we talk about what we've done wrong, talking to God out loud feels like we're having a human interaction and brings us closer to Him. I love speaking out loud to Him for these reasons. I sound crazy, I know, but for those of you that know what I mean--well, you get it. If you haven't spoken out loud, or are afraid to for various reasons, try it. You won't be disappointed.
4.) It's a good place to just get things out there.
Just talk. God wants you to talk to Him, and what better place to do so than in the presence of the Blessed Sacrament? Go to Adoration when you're lonely or mad or thankful or ecstatic or having a bad day or having an average day. God will be there waiting for you. Not that you can't speak to Him outside of Adoration or somewhere like that, because I'm not saying that. But Adoration is a special place to speak to Him. Going to Adoration and knowing who's there tends to lift people's emotions to a heightened awareness and makes them spill over. Your soul/heart/mind is a sink and life fills that sink to the brim with water, but the drain lets it just go on past you. Adoration plugs up the sink and the sink fills up with water and you have to sort through it and face it. Crying/wanting to cry/almost crying is not uncommon for me in Adoration. Being in front of the Blessed Sacrament is just one of those places where my whole being screams "ALL THE FEELINGS".
Those are just my reasons for loving it, along with the little things like it's quiet and peaceful and stuff like that. I could sit in Adoration for hours and hours without being bored or wondering what time it was. As I said before, if you haven't gone to Adoration--GO. SOON. Most Church's have it open at least the first Friday of every month, and I've heard of many having it open before Mass or on special feast days and things.
So, what have we learned?
Adoration=Amazing. YES.
Friday, July 13, 2012
Prince Charming vs. Soul Mates
So, I mentioned 2 posts ago that I don't believe in "Prince Charming"'s. This is why.
Prince Charming. Think about your dream guy. Looks, character, the way you look into his eyes and know that he knows exactly what you're thinking; the way you know he'd never, ever do anything to hurt you. He's perfect, right? Unfortunately, perfect people don't exist. Us melodramatic romantics--I say 'us' because I'm one of them--will expect some kind of "dark" past that he's overcome. He once was imperfect, but now he's perfect.
Perfect don't exist, honey. Sorry to burst my own bubble, but it just doesn't. There are these things called flaws that makes the human race imperfect.
Prince Charming creates the mental image of a perfect man. And there is no perfect man, except Jesus. So, perhaps He's the Prince Charming we want to complete us, which is accurate. Perhaps I believe in only one Prince Charming, eh? We long for a Prince Charming, and we have one. Even St. Augustine said, "My heart is restless until I rest in You." or something like that.
Now, having said all that, is anyone wondering why I believe in soul mates?
Because soul mates don't create an image of perfection. They create an image of someone who is perfect for you, and vise-versa. I also believe that you don't have to marry your soul mate. Soul mates are not always your "happy ever ever true love of the opposite sex". I believe that we can find friends, too, that are soul mates. Friends that just really get us and put up with us and understand, which if you get down to it, a best friend is the basis for a true love relationship.
I like to say that my mom and one of her closest girlfriends are soul mates. They're practically long lost twins, no joke. They clicked within minutes of meeting, and can talk and talk and talk. They once met for lunch at 11am, and my mom didn't return home until close to 6pm because they'd lost track of time. It was really very funny once my mom pulled into the driveway and explained why she was four hours late. They just talked and talked and talked about everything under the sun, with the kitchen sink, probably. There's a joke that they have to take a timer with them so that we don't have a repeat.
So, there you have it! My prejudice explained. And besides, even if I had my choice between Prince Charming and Soul Mate, soul mate any day.
Prince Charming. Think about your dream guy. Looks, character, the way you look into his eyes and know that he knows exactly what you're thinking; the way you know he'd never, ever do anything to hurt you. He's perfect, right? Unfortunately, perfect people don't exist. Us melodramatic romantics--I say 'us' because I'm one of them--will expect some kind of "dark" past that he's overcome. He once was imperfect, but now he's perfect.
Perfect don't exist, honey. Sorry to burst my own bubble, but it just doesn't. There are these things called flaws that makes the human race imperfect.
Prince Charming creates the mental image of a perfect man. And there is no perfect man, except Jesus. So, perhaps He's the Prince Charming we want to complete us, which is accurate. Perhaps I believe in only one Prince Charming, eh? We long for a Prince Charming, and we have one. Even St. Augustine said, "My heart is restless until I rest in You." or something like that.
Now, having said all that, is anyone wondering why I believe in soul mates?
Because soul mates don't create an image of perfection. They create an image of someone who is perfect for you, and vise-versa. I also believe that you don't have to marry your soul mate. Soul mates are not always your "happy ever ever true love of the opposite sex". I believe that we can find friends, too, that are soul mates. Friends that just really get us and put up with us and understand, which if you get down to it, a best friend is the basis for a true love relationship.
I like to say that my mom and one of her closest girlfriends are soul mates. They're practically long lost twins, no joke. They clicked within minutes of meeting, and can talk and talk and talk. They once met for lunch at 11am, and my mom didn't return home until close to 6pm because they'd lost track of time. It was really very funny once my mom pulled into the driveway and explained why she was four hours late. They just talked and talked and talked about everything under the sun, with the kitchen sink, probably. There's a joke that they have to take a timer with them so that we don't have a repeat.
So, there you have it! My prejudice explained. And besides, even if I had my choice between Prince Charming and Soul Mate, soul mate any day.
Thursday, July 12, 2012
Waiting for a Frosty
Today I continued languishing in the pages of "The Scarlet Letter" by Nathaniel Hawthorn. I was sitting in a car turned off with all the doors open in 105degree (at least) weather, while my dad worked on the boat trailer. It was hot. I barely did anything and I was still had sweat literally rolling down and dripping off of me. It was intriguing, yet disgusting.
Irrelevant.
As I was driving (yes, me! Driving!) my dad and myself home, he suggested we stop by Wendy's for a frosty. My heart fluttered and leaped at the prospect. I pulled up, ordered our frosties, and gently set mine down in the cup holder by the driver's seat.
Because I am a young and rather inexperienced driver, I have not yet learned how to drive with one hand for more than a few seconds, let alone eat/drink while driving. I was forced to wait until I turned off the car in the driveway of my house.
I turned off the car, unbuckled my seat belt, sat for a moment, opened my spoon, stuck my spoon into the cup, and pulled out a wonderful spoonful of chocolate heaven.
It was definitely the best frosty I've ever had.
Cold and refreshing and wonderful. It tasted so much better having had had to wait the extra 15 minutes than if I'd lurched into it the moment they handed it to me. It was heaven in a cup. It felt like it was the best $2 (give or take) my dad's ever spent for me in my life.
Now, having said all this mush, what do I really mean?
True love waits.
Irrelevant.
As I was driving (yes, me! Driving!) my dad and myself home, he suggested we stop by Wendy's for a frosty. My heart fluttered and leaped at the prospect. I pulled up, ordered our frosties, and gently set mine down in the cup holder by the driver's seat.
Because I am a young and rather inexperienced driver, I have not yet learned how to drive with one hand for more than a few seconds, let alone eat/drink while driving. I was forced to wait until I turned off the car in the driveway of my house.
I turned off the car, unbuckled my seat belt, sat for a moment, opened my spoon, stuck my spoon into the cup, and pulled out a wonderful spoonful of chocolate heaven.
It was definitely the best frosty I've ever had.
Cold and refreshing and wonderful. It tasted so much better having had had to wait the extra 15 minutes than if I'd lurched into it the moment they handed it to me. It was heaven in a cup. It felt like it was the best $2 (give or take) my dad's ever spent for me in my life.
Now, having said all this mush, what do I really mean?
True love waits.
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
Dreams and Choices
Please be warned. The following post may or may not make sense. It was written while feeling very inspired to write it, but not totally having all the thoughts together in a cohesive order.
See, I go to this amazing place called "The Rock". It's a very special youth group that is put on the radio every Tuesday evening. This week, as a speaker we had the former Fireflight drummer, Phee [insert last name here]. Fantastic guy.
He told us 3 stories, 2 of which I am going to share with you.
The first was of a young lady named Amelia. He and Amelia were friends growing up, and her dream was to have the perfect wedding. I mean that was her dream. That was the thing she was always talking about. For some of us our biggest dreams are being famous musicians or actors/actresses or opening our own art studio or meeting our soul mate (that's mine), and for Amelia, it was the perfect wedding. She had everything she wanted ready in her mind. All she lacked was the groom and the money. But Amelia loved God and she had her heart set on Him and this perfect wedding.
Amelia was a hairdresser. She ended up talking with one of her clients one day about the dream wedding and everything. This client ended up being a caterer, and when they were done, told Amelia that when she got married to let her know, and she'd cater it for free. I don't know about you, but that made me start grinning.
A little bit goes by, and she starts talking about her dream wedding to someone else about her perfect wedding cake. This person ends up being a baker, and, like the caterer, says to contact them when Amelia gets married and they'll make the cake for free.
Finally, Amelia found her dream wedding dress. It was way out of her price range, but still, it was her dream wedding dress. She meets a woman and they begin talking about this wedding dress, turns out this woman has the exact dress Amelia dreams of. Turns out the woman and Amelia are the same size. This woman, being older, I assume, gives Amelia the wedding dress.
A few years later, Amelia meets her soul mate, Leon. They knew they were meant for each other the moment they met. Problem. Leon lived across the country. They maintained a long distance relationship for a few years before he made the decision to move closer to her. Problem. They didn't have the money for him to buy a temporary place before they got married. Amelia says there's another option and offers to have him move in with her into a separate room, of course. He does. And he loves God just as much as Amelia, and they're both all for the waiting for marriage thing.
Little bit later, Amelia is pregnant. The marriage date is coming up close. The people that offered those wonderful things to Amelia back out. Amelia's own parents don't even attend the wedding because they're so disappointed. It is very far away from being her dream wedding.
Phee goes onto talk about the choices Amelia and Leon made. They were going great up until that one moment when they were alone together. That one little choice made the difference in her dream wedding. That thing she wanted so bad. Gone. Because of one little choice. Of course, we could argue that if she was happy with her soul mate and her baby, that should have been her dream wedding, but that's not really the point.
Story number 2:
Phee, in high school, knew a guy he called "Steve". Steve was the kid that no one really wanted to be with. He was the dorky kid that adored the Spice Girls and couldn't afford "hip" clothing. Through some outer source that remained unspecified, Phee knew details about Steve's home life. Though they were not shared, we can all imagine what it must have been like.
Kids picked on Steve a lot, and Steve eventually stopped coming to the youth group and Church where he and Phee knew each other. Phee found himself praying to God for a friend for Steve. A good friend. A friend who wouldn't leave him or let him down.
Phee ran into Steve days later, and said hello and invited him back to youth group, but that was it. He left. He said that he told God, "God, I want a friend for Steve, but I didn't mean me."
This happened twice more, and the third time, Phee said he felt God telling him to give his number to Steve and to invite him out with his friends that very night. Phee refused, saying to God, "Look, I want Steve to have a friend, but I didn't mean me."
Phee was told a few days later that Steve had committed suicide.
Phee explained how one of his choices played a part in destroying all of Steve's dreams, whatever they were. That one choice. That one decision where he said "I am not this 'legendary friend' for Steve". If he had decided to be that legendary friend, he probably could have saved Steve's life. But he didn't.
I'm not saying that it's Phee's fault that Steve died, because it wasn't. But Phee could have helped make Steve's life a little brighter. It wasn't his fault that Steve thought that suicide was his only option, but Phee could have helped Steve to see that suicide wasn't the option.
Choices and dreams. We all have dreams. We all make choices. Do our choices lend themselves on the road to catching our dreams, or do they take us away from them? Think about it.
Amelia had that dream wedding. That choice to have sex out of marriage destroyed that. I don't know what Steve's dreams might have been, but his choice to kill himself destroyed them. Phee wanted to be a good friend, that was one of his dreams, but he decided he didn't want to be Steve's friend. Phee now has to live with the realization that he could have saved someone's life.
Now, of course, both Phee and Amelia and Steve live wonderful lives. Phee straightened out and now travels the world speaking the word of God after being Fireflight's drummer for a number of years. Amelia now has 3 children, a relationship with her parents again, and her soul mate. Steve is now hopefully with God somewhere in a place where he is not bullied, not rejected, and not hurting. I like to think he is happy in Heaven, even though I only heard his story tonight. I cannot imagine him anywhere else. Those stories struck me and I doubt I will ever forget them.
Dreams and choices. I dream of finding my soul mate somewhere out there. Though I do not believe in prince charmings (that's another post coming soon, I think), I do believe in soul mates; I believe that my soul mate is somewhere out there with God preparing him for me. I dream of God molding me into that beautiful bride my future groom will meet one day. I dream of God molding that man into my future groom. Sappy and corny, I know. But Amelia's biggest dream was a perfect wedding, can't I find my soul mate?
To find my soul mate, I choose to become a wonderful young lady, pure, honest, kind, courageous, patient, and whatever else is in that picture. I choose to be God's daughter first, and his future wife second. I choose to wait for him, knowing that I am definitely not ready. I choose to be on the road to becoming ready for him.
What are your dreams?
See, I go to this amazing place called "The Rock". It's a very special youth group that is put on the radio every Tuesday evening. This week, as a speaker we had the former Fireflight drummer, Phee [insert last name here]. Fantastic guy.
He told us 3 stories, 2 of which I am going to share with you.
The first was of a young lady named Amelia. He and Amelia were friends growing up, and her dream was to have the perfect wedding. I mean that was her dream. That was the thing she was always talking about. For some of us our biggest dreams are being famous musicians or actors/actresses or opening our own art studio or meeting our soul mate (that's mine), and for Amelia, it was the perfect wedding. She had everything she wanted ready in her mind. All she lacked was the groom and the money. But Amelia loved God and she had her heart set on Him and this perfect wedding.
Amelia was a hairdresser. She ended up talking with one of her clients one day about the dream wedding and everything. This client ended up being a caterer, and when they were done, told Amelia that when she got married to let her know, and she'd cater it for free. I don't know about you, but that made me start grinning.
A little bit goes by, and she starts talking about her dream wedding to someone else about her perfect wedding cake. This person ends up being a baker, and, like the caterer, says to contact them when Amelia gets married and they'll make the cake for free.
Finally, Amelia found her dream wedding dress. It was way out of her price range, but still, it was her dream wedding dress. She meets a woman and they begin talking about this wedding dress, turns out this woman has the exact dress Amelia dreams of. Turns out the woman and Amelia are the same size. This woman, being older, I assume, gives Amelia the wedding dress.
A few years later, Amelia meets her soul mate, Leon. They knew they were meant for each other the moment they met. Problem. Leon lived across the country. They maintained a long distance relationship for a few years before he made the decision to move closer to her. Problem. They didn't have the money for him to buy a temporary place before they got married. Amelia says there's another option and offers to have him move in with her into a separate room, of course. He does. And he loves God just as much as Amelia, and they're both all for the waiting for marriage thing.
Little bit later, Amelia is pregnant. The marriage date is coming up close. The people that offered those wonderful things to Amelia back out. Amelia's own parents don't even attend the wedding because they're so disappointed. It is very far away from being her dream wedding.
Phee goes onto talk about the choices Amelia and Leon made. They were going great up until that one moment when they were alone together. That one little choice made the difference in her dream wedding. That thing she wanted so bad. Gone. Because of one little choice. Of course, we could argue that if she was happy with her soul mate and her baby, that should have been her dream wedding, but that's not really the point.
Story number 2:
Phee, in high school, knew a guy he called "Steve". Steve was the kid that no one really wanted to be with. He was the dorky kid that adored the Spice Girls and couldn't afford "hip" clothing. Through some outer source that remained unspecified, Phee knew details about Steve's home life. Though they were not shared, we can all imagine what it must have been like.
Kids picked on Steve a lot, and Steve eventually stopped coming to the youth group and Church where he and Phee knew each other. Phee found himself praying to God for a friend for Steve. A good friend. A friend who wouldn't leave him or let him down.
Phee ran into Steve days later, and said hello and invited him back to youth group, but that was it. He left. He said that he told God, "God, I want a friend for Steve, but I didn't mean me."
This happened twice more, and the third time, Phee said he felt God telling him to give his number to Steve and to invite him out with his friends that very night. Phee refused, saying to God, "Look, I want Steve to have a friend, but I didn't mean me."
Phee was told a few days later that Steve had committed suicide.
Phee explained how one of his choices played a part in destroying all of Steve's dreams, whatever they were. That one choice. That one decision where he said "I am not this 'legendary friend' for Steve". If he had decided to be that legendary friend, he probably could have saved Steve's life. But he didn't.
I'm not saying that it's Phee's fault that Steve died, because it wasn't. But Phee could have helped make Steve's life a little brighter. It wasn't his fault that Steve thought that suicide was his only option, but Phee could have helped Steve to see that suicide wasn't the option.
Choices and dreams. We all have dreams. We all make choices. Do our choices lend themselves on the road to catching our dreams, or do they take us away from them? Think about it.
Amelia had that dream wedding. That choice to have sex out of marriage destroyed that. I don't know what Steve's dreams might have been, but his choice to kill himself destroyed them. Phee wanted to be a good friend, that was one of his dreams, but he decided he didn't want to be Steve's friend. Phee now has to live with the realization that he could have saved someone's life.
Now, of course, both Phee and Amelia and Steve live wonderful lives. Phee straightened out and now travels the world speaking the word of God after being Fireflight's drummer for a number of years. Amelia now has 3 children, a relationship with her parents again, and her soul mate. Steve is now hopefully with God somewhere in a place where he is not bullied, not rejected, and not hurting. I like to think he is happy in Heaven, even though I only heard his story tonight. I cannot imagine him anywhere else. Those stories struck me and I doubt I will ever forget them.
Dreams and choices. I dream of finding my soul mate somewhere out there. Though I do not believe in prince charmings (that's another post coming soon, I think), I do believe in soul mates; I believe that my soul mate is somewhere out there with God preparing him for me. I dream of God molding me into that beautiful bride my future groom will meet one day. I dream of God molding that man into my future groom. Sappy and corny, I know. But Amelia's biggest dream was a perfect wedding, can't I find my soul mate?
To find my soul mate, I choose to become a wonderful young lady, pure, honest, kind, courageous, patient, and whatever else is in that picture. I choose to be God's daughter first, and his future wife second. I choose to wait for him, knowing that I am definitely not ready. I choose to be on the road to becoming ready for him.
What are your dreams?
Saturday, July 7, 2012
A Day of Island "Paradise"...???
View at your own discretion. The following post describes graphic content of the following:
Also, if you would like to read the story of Cumberland Island, Google "Cumberland Island National Seashore". It is, indeed, an entrancing story of Native Americans, war stuff, millionaires, and armadillos.
- Sunburn
- swarms of bugs
- sand
- a 6 mile walk
- lack of enough water
- sweat and dehydration
- salt water
See, today my entire family (yes, all seven of us) took an all day sailing trip.
We went out to Cumberland Island, which is obviously an island near me, and docked and explored. The idea was peacefully sail out there, eat lunch, have fun, apply sunscreen, see a ruined mansion, and stroll to the beach for some summer waves.
How inaccurate this picture is.
This is the story of what really happened:
It took us two hours to prepare before actually leaving our house. We could feel the intense heat the moment we stepped outside. I briefly wondered if a decent tan was in my future. We finally managed to pile into the car and, with my dad's sailboat, drove down to the docks. It took at least 45 minutes to prepare the sailboat, get all our stuff into it, get it into the water, and get ourselves into it. Sunscreen was applied to everyone and life jackets secured on the younger three.
Once in the water, we all decided to go for something that none of us needed: soda. Water would have been much better, but remember the idea was to have a perfect, peaceful day. We sailed out. I took my place to the left of the rudder, my dad on the right doing his steering. Jonathan, the 14 year old, and Cricket, the four year old, took their places near the bow. My mom was next to my dad, and David, the 10 year old, next to me and the ice chest. My sister, Sam, drifted between the cabin and the place next to my mom.
I tried my hand at steering, but gave up after 10 minutes because I was/am too short to see over the deck of the boat. Quite a problem on a day when the river is full of boat-traffic. I retired to my spot and read 2 stories from "The Illustrated Man" by Ray Bradbury, a fascinating author and book, I daresay.
An hour later we arrived to the public side of the island; a side only my mom had seen before. I could already feel the effects of sunburn on my legs and arms. I wanted water. We all did, I think. We pulled up to the dock after a brief wait, and piled into a picnic table at which Sam was stung by ants at least twice. We ate, but only my dad was really in the mood for eating. I happily listened to a family nearby sharing funny horse stories. My favorite was the story of one of the girls about my age talking about her Tennessee Walker being forced to walk through a river. The images of horse limbs going in crazy directions was quite humorous.
We packed up after eating. Reapplied sunscreen. Got water. Cricket escaped at least three times to do adventurous things, and after seeing a lizard go up a tree stayed nearby until it was time to go.
We set out.
The walk to the mansion's ruins seemed to take forever. The way my mom had spoken of it, the mansion seemed like a five minute walk. In reality, it was probably twenty. That's really not a big deal to us older folks, but in the intense heat and with a four and seven year old, it wasn't exactly "ideal". I carried Cricket as much as I could once he started asking for permission to "hold one of us", but my skin was slick with sweat (disgusting, right?) and it wasn't easy. Finally, we reached destination #1! A ruined mansion the public was not allowed to explore because of rattlesnake occupation. We continued on. Next stop, the beach!
Now, my mom had never actually gone to this part of the island, but figured it wouldn't be far. Ten, fifteen minutes? Try forty-five.
We walked. And walked. And walked. Jonathan fell behind being the smart-Alaska to wear flip-flops and getting cactuses and sand spurs stuck in his feet. I waited for him, but by this point the gnats and mosquitoes were ridiculously bad. Swarms of twenty or thirty followed each of us. The only escape was to keep moving. Moving was a luxury Jonathan could not afford unless he wanted to lose his feet. I stayed behind with him, swatting at his legs and arms with a towel while he gently and patiently pulled each cactus out. But at least we had the shade of the trees, a wonderful thing that dropped the overall temperature at least 10 degrees.
And then we left the forest behind for a horror called sand dunes. Jon and I agreed it was horrible. Goodbye bugs and prickly things; hello heat, sand, and sun. The dunes went up and down, seemingly forever. We got lost among them, and originally decided to go back, until Cricket pleaded to continue onto the beach. We did see some of the wild horses, that made it much better--for me, at least. I did see a filly of about a couple of months, and a colt of about a year and a half, not quite old enough to leave the herd, yet.
But we passed the horses and continued on. It was a nightmare. Even if it was only today, I only vaguely remember having this conversation once I was alone:
"Oh, flog it all to helium! I don't give a shilling. Oh, cabbage, God is that a sin? Oh, flog it all to helium, I don't give a shilling, anymore. God, please don't let me die out here. I feel like Mary trekking across wherever she trekked across on her way to Bethlehem to have Jesus, only it's really hot and I'm not going to have a baby. Oh, cabbage, is that a sin? God, fine, I'll stop complaining. I give it all to you for....for the souls in Purgatory! Yes, that's it! I hope they're happy. Oh flog it all to helium."
I do kind of remember saying "We're all gonna die!" a few times while we were all still together.
I was more ecstatic than I should have been when I reached the wooden walkway that would take me through the final stretch of the dunes and to the beach. I continued to ramble on about helium and shillings and other meaningless things, and abruptly stopped when I heard the voices of strangers not far behind me. I glanced over my shoulder, and saw two people walking the same path. I hope they were well entertained.
And then I saw it--THE BEACH. YES. FINALLY. Hot, sweaty, sunburned, and exhausted, I hurried to my mom to show her my tomato skin. We all put sunscreen on a third time, and my four siblings played in the water. My dad watched them (thank God for my dad) while my mom and I collapsed on some towels in hopes to regain our strength before the three mile trudge back.
We left 45 minutes later. Jonathan was declaring it the worst day of his life, but Jonathan prefers video games about hunting deer more than hunting actual deer, so that doesn't mean anything. I was silent as the grave, a sure sign of my exhaustion and dehydration. I fast-walked, forcing myself through the dunes after taking that horrible step of the boardwalk. I paused in a rare patch of shade to catch my breath. My heart pounded in my ears. My body burned and ached. Sweat trickled down my skin. I continued, hearing the voices of the rest of my family behind me.
I saw the trees up ahead! I walked faster, figuring I could deal with the bugs. Bugs would definitely be better than the fire-rays of the sun.
I stepped into the underside-of-the-pillow-feeling of the shade. I paused. I was wrong about the bugs. They were worse. I was at a fast-paced walk once again. Swatting the air around me, I hit between 7 and 10 mosquitoes per hand with each swat. I. Am. Not. Exaggerating. They were everywhere. I hit them when they landed, and continued swatting to try to discourage them. It didn't work, even though I was covered in their dead, black carcasses. My family caught up, and my mom directed us to one of the far-and-few-in-between restrooms up ahead with water fountains. We hurried.
The building was apparently an old church for the servants or something from what I gathered from the pictures in it. My sister and I hurried to the girls bathroom. The bugs had, thank you Jesus, not followed us into the building. We slobbered water onto our body from the sink, then went back out and took long gulps of water from the fountain, refilling our water bottles. I sat on a bench and did not want to get up. My mom came over and, unexpectedly, poured water over the front of me. It felt magnificent. All too soon we were forced to continue on.
We passed the Dungeoness, the ruined mansion. Twenty minutes of the nightmare left. We made it, finally. The bugs followed us, the torment continued, but we made it back! We piled into the boat, me on the bow alone this time, and everyone else behind, and took off. We were all ready to go home.
The ride back wasn't too bad, we did see dolphins and I began one of my 3 summer reading books, which is quite good, to tell you the truth. My sunburn ached, though. I can honestly say that it is definitely the worst sunburn I have ever, in my entire life, been unlucky enough to attain. There is a straight line where my short ended where on one side it's lobster red and on the other snow white. The same with my shoulders and neckline. I was surprised that I barely got burned on my face, but glad, though, because last time I got a bad facial burn it bleached my eyebrows to a Viking orange.
We arrived back at the docks the expected hour later. We got the boat loaded up, and got into the car, more than ready to go home. Until another catastrophe (which by the way, I pronounced wrong until a few years ago). The axis of one of the trailer wheels broke! We were forced to leave the boat and trailer in a "safe" place. My dad is now working on a plan to fix and retrieve it and the boat. Of course during the unhitching of the trailer and car, Cricket fell, hit his head, and began to bleed. Not profusely, but enough to scare him and give my mom a heart attack. It's okay. He's fine. He's already doing the "I'm going to get into everything you own and destroy the world--I mean house" thing.
We are now home. We are all in sunburn-induced agony. Jonathan swears he will never again return to Cumberland unless he takes and the ferry over and attends the bus tour instead of the "walk on your own two feet" tour. But, remember, he's a city boy, even if he denies it, so that doesn't mean anything.
Today was a rough day, but it was also a very fun day. Would I repeat today? Okay, maybe not. But I'm definitely willing to do it again. Just next time we're bringing ONLY water, a gallon of bug-spray, and a bottle of sunscreen for each of us. Yes, all in all, it was a good, funny day. Definitely funny. You can't have a day like today and not think it funny, it's just unnatural.
Also, if you would like to read the story of Cumberland Island, Google "Cumberland Island National Seashore". It is, indeed, an entrancing story of Native Americans, war stuff, millionaires, and armadillos.
Sleep and psycho kitty now beckon me. Farewell!
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
2000 Taps ---> 1lb. Honey
It's been four days since my last post, which drives me crazy. Only four days, I know, but it feels like forever. I've actually tried writing about 3 times, and none of it I liked or it didn't go anywhere or I couldn't say anything right or it was a rant of some sort. You writers understand.
Knowing if I didn't write something soon, I'd go insane, I headed to my trusty friend, the Lifeteen website, for some ideas. On their site, they have this "fun fact" every day. Today's fun fact was something along the lines of "It takes a bee 2,000 taps of nectar to make one pound of honey."
To us, a pound doesn't seem like that much. Unless of course, we're buying something. Then it's expensive as heck. But in general, a pound? Psh. My sister could easily contain fifty pounds of honey.
But to a bee. A pound of honey is a heck of a lot. They worked so hard to get that one pound of honey. I don't know how long it takes to get those 2000 taps of honey, but I'm pretty sure it isn't a day job. It probably took days, maybe weeks for a bunch of bees to carry it out.
Now, I'm really not a fan of bees. They fly and buzz and sting, but I have to admire their work ethic. They just keep going and going no matter what. They mind their own business--unlike their cousin, the wasp--and actually do something useful for the rest of the world. But back to the work ethic.
2000 taps of nectar must take a long time. How many taps you think they do in a day? Fifty? A hundred? I'm assuming that a tap means a visit to a flower or nectar source. More or less, I don't know. I'm not a bee expert and my computer runs to slow for me to begin to feel curious enough for me to look it up. Let's say they do fifty a day. That's 100 every 2 days, and 1000 every 20 days--if they're lucky. They're probably revisiting the same flowers and places everyday to get that much. That probably gets drab and boring and tiring, but still they keep chugging along! They're determined to get to that 2000 taps so they can make that honey!
They say that a bunch of little things make one big thing. 2000 taps make one beautiful pound of honey.
You getting that feeling yet? That "Oh heavens, she's going to call a 'Metaphor Meeting'" feeling? If you had it, chocolate for you, because you're right!
Honey is the goal for the bees. What's our honey?
I suppose our immediate Christian answer is to "live life for God!" or some variation. That's a good answer, not saying anything against it, and if something different came immediately to mind, I won't kill you either. And short term goals? Got any? You must. We all do.
In the next 9 months (we're in month 2 now, remember?) I want to:
Become closer to Jesus, through Mary
pass all 3 of my AP classes with flying colors
get a laptop
decide what I want to do with my life
figure out what God wants me to do with my life
learn, love, and live
That's a lot to do, and it'll probably require much more than 2000 nectar taps. But that's the honey, and I've got to get it somehow. Honey doesn't make itself, you know.
Also, Happy 4th of July!!!
Knowing if I didn't write something soon, I'd go insane, I headed to my trusty friend, the Lifeteen website, for some ideas. On their site, they have this "fun fact" every day. Today's fun fact was something along the lines of "It takes a bee 2,000 taps of nectar to make one pound of honey."
To us, a pound doesn't seem like that much. Unless of course, we're buying something. Then it's expensive as heck. But in general, a pound? Psh. My sister could easily contain fifty pounds of honey.
But to a bee. A pound of honey is a heck of a lot. They worked so hard to get that one pound of honey. I don't know how long it takes to get those 2000 taps of honey, but I'm pretty sure it isn't a day job. It probably took days, maybe weeks for a bunch of bees to carry it out.
Now, I'm really not a fan of bees. They fly and buzz and sting, but I have to admire their work ethic. They just keep going and going no matter what. They mind their own business--unlike their cousin, the wasp--and actually do something useful for the rest of the world. But back to the work ethic.
2000 taps of nectar must take a long time. How many taps you think they do in a day? Fifty? A hundred? I'm assuming that a tap means a visit to a flower or nectar source. More or less, I don't know. I'm not a bee expert and my computer runs to slow for me to begin to feel curious enough for me to look it up. Let's say they do fifty a day. That's 100 every 2 days, and 1000 every 20 days--if they're lucky. They're probably revisiting the same flowers and places everyday to get that much. That probably gets drab and boring and tiring, but still they keep chugging along! They're determined to get to that 2000 taps so they can make that honey!
They say that a bunch of little things make one big thing. 2000 taps make one beautiful pound of honey.
You getting that feeling yet? That "Oh heavens, she's going to call a 'Metaphor Meeting'" feeling? If you had it, chocolate for you, because you're right!
Honey is the goal for the bees. What's our honey?
I suppose our immediate Christian answer is to "live life for God!" or some variation. That's a good answer, not saying anything against it, and if something different came immediately to mind, I won't kill you either. And short term goals? Got any? You must. We all do.
In the next 9 months (we're in month 2 now, remember?) I want to:
Become closer to Jesus, through Mary
pass all 3 of my AP classes with flying colors
get a laptop
decide what I want to do with my life
figure out what God wants me to do with my life
learn, love, and live
That's a lot to do, and it'll probably require much more than 2000 nectar taps. But that's the honey, and I've got to get it somehow. Honey doesn't make itself, you know.
Also, Happy 4th of July!!!
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