When I set out to write new posts on here, I really struggle most times to even come up with a topic that is relevant to me. Sure you can hit up the topics of gratefulness, & thankfulness, & family during holiday seasons. Joy & being carefree comes with spring & summer. Stress & anxiety comes with midterms. Relationships always hit some sort of curve ball when you hit winter. But I always struggle with not being generic. Then at the end of it, I realize that I'm not being honest with myself & that these are things that I really need to express myself on, that's why I started this blog in the first place!
I always sit down, laptop in front of me, usually a cup of coffee beside me, ready to blog. Blogging is almost like a marathon, where you have to type & type, & then if you for some reason stop, to fix a typo, or someone distracts you, then you lose all train of thought & you're stuck drinking the entire cup of coffee next to you & then your refill & you have absolutely no idea what your main point was to even start with. So then you head right back to the drawing board, & before you know it, you're on refill number six or seven, have three or four different drafts typed up, or you're stuck just staring at a blank computer screen wondering why your life isn't more eventful. Okay, so maybe it's just me. Maybe I'm some sort of obsessive blogging freak who wants to change the world with only nine followers...
I set out with my mind locked & loaded on writing a blog post & it does nothing but make me feel like my life is all but normal for a girl who lives in the middle of Nebraska, at a conservative Christian college, rocking both a suit jacket & pom poms for school activities, just trying to complete a degree that I signed up for when I was 18 years old. Normal.
Here's the deal, every time I sit down to write one of these blog posts, I obsess with it being perfect. I read over it about 102 times, try to fix all my spelling errors, which most of the time doesn't really do much because I always notice them after I hit the PUBLISH button, & do nothing to make my blog stand out. The font size & type always reads NORMAL. My blog format is SIMPLE. I set out with the dreams & desires to change, but then I get to my prime stomping ground & platform area of followers, I resort back to the same ole, same ole, & it is frustrating.
I try to change the world, but struggle to find a way to change myself. You know the saying old habits die hard? Well for me, my old habit is biting my fingernails. I know that may be gross to some of you, well that's because it is, but I seriously cannot cut this habit! I've tried the nail polish trick, I've tried just keeping them trimmed short. I have tried time after time to quit this habit, but I cannot figure out how to cut it out of my system. Life comes with a lot of habits, daily routines that we fall into. Wake up, do one thing, then the next, until the end of the day rolls around you set your alarm & wake up the next day to do it again. Since when did life have to become so boring?
I know everybody has dreams & aspirations, there's places you want to be & see, people you want to meet & know, things you want to be & do. Life is supposed to be exciting. But just like my blog posts, they're normal. Nothing extraordinary. True story, I wanted to be a writer not too long ago. I wanted to write books. I think the part of me wanting to be a writer is funny because I hate to read. So why I desired to write a book is beyond me, but I wanted it, more than anything. I came up with these super generic story lines that fit into a high school girl's mindset & desires, & over & over re-wrote the same over-dramatic, extreme climax novel with the same characters, just in different forms & with new names. I was like the female version of Nicholas Sparks, just less famous, & a few movies behind.
This is now my writing outlet. & I let anyone read it. It's not extraordinary or super enticing. It's just some chick from Iowa, living in Nebraska, trying to break the routine of life. & you know once you figure out that life can be more exciting outside of your penciled in schedule, you begin to see the joy in summer, become thankful for your family around the holidays & everyday in between, recognize which relationships mean the most to you, & put aside your stresses & anxiety as you go about your carefree ways of life.
Peace & love.
B.
Thursday, November 27, 2014
Friday, November 14, 2014
{Mind Over Matter}
So birthdays, those are a thing. Crazy how another year can go through triumphs, knock downs, set back, accomplishments, and then flip around in circles thousands of times. But in the end, you just up your age, & move on to the next day. I have never been the biggest fan of birthdays, mainly because I've cried on my birthday for the past several years, but hey maybe that was because I was stuck eating gluten-free? Who knows, not important anymore.
Sure you can add another year on to your age count, you accomplish mile markings like: "Pre-teen," "Teenager," "Can drive a car," "Buy a lottery ticket," "Can vote," "Beat teenage pregnancy," "First legal drink," "Over the hill," "Mid-life crisis," "Menopause." Decades mark your age, your body begins to show it. But what is growing up? Is it your age, or is it your mental state.
I'm sure we can all name several people in our immediate & relational lives that we deem as 'immature' for their given age. They still act like "boys" or "middle school girls,"
& what we do is roll our eyes & avoid them at all costs in order to save our I.Q. points. I think that these maturity absences create a gap between people. In relationships specifically, there has to be a mutual mature mindset which the relationship is centered around.
Just like in college, you wouldn't throw a freshman into an upper level core course class. There are prerequisites that must be taken in order to fully fulfill the requirements of the course. Just like in life, there are requirements to growing up, & that all starts with your mind. Sure, physical maturity plays a huge role in growing up, but let's not demean the mental aspect.
A few months ago, I stumbled across a posting from right when I turned 16. It's funny to me, at the time I wrote it, I'm sure I thought I had everything right, felt pretty confident in myself, because you know, everyone at age 16 is so mentally mature... Ha but let's be real, that hopefully was not my peak.
Here's that posting, just for a little enjoyment for you all, & a throw back to little ole sophomore in high school Bailey, also, please enjoy the awkward cake photos:
Okay, not bad, kind of sappy, kind of dorky, but it was goals that were driving me. I set these mental goals for myself, that I then have gone & broken every single one of them since then, but that's besides the point. I wanted to be a good person. A person who loves & cares. It does break my heart to know that I do fail though. Growing up, & maturity takes steps forwards, & steps backwards.
I could set goal after goal again in my life right now as I prepare to finish college this May. To enter the "mature world of adults" BLEH. I can sit in the kitchen of my apartment, up way too early for my 8 am class, fret about the next step in life, praying to find peace, looking for patience in God's timing, just searching for the right timing & answers. Thinking, "So this is what it feels like to be an adult" & then preparing for the day. But then at the end of this day, turns into a new day that makes me just one day older, one more day of experience, one more day of joy & love. & I'm content, and pleased at where I'm going to be.
Peace & love.
B.
Sure you can add another year on to your age count, you accomplish mile markings like: "Pre-teen," "Teenager," "Can drive a car," "Buy a lottery ticket," "Can vote," "Beat teenage pregnancy," "First legal drink," "Over the hill," "Mid-life crisis," "Menopause." Decades mark your age, your body begins to show it. But what is growing up? Is it your age, or is it your mental state.
I'm sure we can all name several people in our immediate & relational lives that we deem as 'immature' for their given age. They still act like "boys" or "middle school girls,"
& what we do is roll our eyes & avoid them at all costs in order to save our I.Q. points. I think that these maturity absences create a gap between people. In relationships specifically, there has to be a mutual mature mindset which the relationship is centered around.
Just like in college, you wouldn't throw a freshman into an upper level core course class. There are prerequisites that must be taken in order to fully fulfill the requirements of the course. Just like in life, there are requirements to growing up, & that all starts with your mind. Sure, physical maturity plays a huge role in growing up, but let's not demean the mental aspect.
A few months ago, I stumbled across a posting from right when I turned 16. It's funny to me, at the time I wrote it, I'm sure I thought I had everything right, felt pretty confident in myself, because you know, everyone at age 16 is so mentally mature... Ha but let's be real, that hopefully was not my peak.
Here's that posting, just for a little enjoyment for you all, & a throw back to little ole sophomore in high school Bailey, also, please enjoy the awkward cake photos:
Some say I've grown up, to me I'm still that little farm-girl who is three years old licking snow off the ground. I don't like to think that I'm growing up and getting older, that leads me closer and closer to being on my own, sure I'm so ready for that, but not yet, not right now anyways.I want to be the 16 year old who: ...thinks of myself as strong on the inside.
...is always there for people when they just need someone to talk to or just a friendly hello
...is a caring friend and fun to be with
...believes in herself
...doesn't care what other people think of her, but of what she thinks she can be
...does her personal best at everything she tries
...focuses in class and doesn't sleep
...makes her parents and family proud with the choices she makes
...is a friend and loves everyone
...doesn't judge other people by their outside appearance
...shows God's love in her actions
...is happy and smiles for no reason
Okay, not bad, kind of sappy, kind of dorky, but it was goals that were driving me. I set these mental goals for myself, that I then have gone & broken every single one of them since then, but that's besides the point. I wanted to be a good person. A person who loves & cares. It does break my heart to know that I do fail though. Growing up, & maturity takes steps forwards, & steps backwards.
I could set goal after goal again in my life right now as I prepare to finish college this May. To enter the "mature world of adults" BLEH. I can sit in the kitchen of my apartment, up way too early for my 8 am class, fret about the next step in life, praying to find peace, looking for patience in God's timing, just searching for the right timing & answers. Thinking, "So this is what it feels like to be an adult" & then preparing for the day. But then at the end of this day, turns into a new day that makes me just one day older, one more day of experience, one more day of joy & love. & I'm content, and pleased at where I'm going to be.
"A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones." -Proverbs 17:22
Peace & love.
B.
Sunday, October 12, 2014
{Be}
I've spent a lot of time recently thinking about my future. Mostly because my future is approaching faster than I would like it to, but otherwise I think about what I don't have planned out. I think a lot about what comes after 10:00 am on May 2nd. Quite honestly, I have no idea what I'm doing or what's going on. When people ask what I want to do with my life, I wouldn't be surprised if I stayed & waited tables in small town Nebraska for the next 100 years. In a way, my future is exciting, but in another way, it is terrifying. I'm scared of not having a plan. I'm scared of being alone in the adult world. I've been thinking about who I will be, what I will be, where I will be, & what I will be doing. The word "be" scares me.
My whole life, especially in the past several years, that word has been the name that has defined me, it has held a sort of premise of a nickname in my life. But now, I come across an identity crisis with being 'Bee.' I thought my life would be on this set plan; a perfectly timed out & detailed scale & schedule. I thought that I'd be older & that, somehow, I'd be wise beyond my years. That I'd have some sort of sense of what it really means to be an adult. Well I'm young, poor, under-experienced in the "life" department, & a little clueless of how to manage myself in a big world full of opportunities. Opportunities to make choices & to make mistakes. But what I didn't expect was to not even have a Plan B when my story tale Plan A didn't follow through like I would have liked it to. Now I'm forced with this struggle of being something that I have absolutely no idea how to be.
It's funny, you know, how a simple word, with only two letters, can scare you more than almost any other word scripted from the remaining twenty-four letters in our English alphabet. See, I thought I had it all planned out, drawn out, & worked out, but now I don't want to get out. I'm faced every single day with the ominous question of: now what do you want to be? The possibilities of being something are endless, most often rewarding, but I'm too scared to take a leap of faith & dive into something that may be wrong. I say I don't want to continue with school, because let's be honest, I hate it. & though I am more than thankful for my education, I think it's time for me to turn in my last assignment. If only extra-curricular activities track was an actual degree plan, but I guess communications is pretty close in the running with them. There's thoughts raging through my mind like: Maybe I picked the wrong school from the start. Maybe I decided on the wrong major. Maybe I just wasted thousands of dollars to just want to start all over. All of these 'maybes' are freaking me out.
My main struggle is thinking that my non-existent Plan B isn't going to work out.
Most kids graduate college in their early twenties. They may claim to live an adult-like life, but still resemble a child in more ways than they would an adult. Some still may be lacking in the area of good decisions. Some may have never had the chance to be their own adult because their parents have been feeding them like baby birds their whole lives. Most of the time, a college graduate is sent out into the world still resembling a child, but fitting into an adult-sized body. They think they can take on a full adult life load; a family, a career, bills, a home, the works. But the truth is, we don't even know what we're doing out here! We plaster a smile on our faces & grind our teeth at night. Call our best friends crying & then turn around to tell our parents that we are doing just fine. It's a class act that we have learned to master. Some of us, grow up & out of it, while others wallow & grieve while digging themselves into a miserable hole.
The struggle & issue with the 'be' in being is that we don't understand it's full meaning. We don't quite understand the full potential those two letters can carry. The true definition is doing, not being. Yes, you may be a human being, but it is your human doings that will take you places. That will accomplish tasks, & that will help your life to move forward. Your human doing will be the result of your being.
So while I fret & while I worry, I'm wasting time. No, I don't have a Plan B or a Plan C, or a plan for any of the rest of the alphabet, in any language. Sitting around, pulling my hair out, & stressing over things that won't be so important in the long run, won't result in me getting things done.
Peace & love.
B.
My whole life, especially in the past several years, that word has been the name that has defined me, it has held a sort of premise of a nickname in my life. But now, I come across an identity crisis with being 'Bee.' I thought my life would be on this set plan; a perfectly timed out & detailed scale & schedule. I thought that I'd be older & that, somehow, I'd be wise beyond my years. That I'd have some sort of sense of what it really means to be an adult. Well I'm young, poor, under-experienced in the "life" department, & a little clueless of how to manage myself in a big world full of opportunities. Opportunities to make choices & to make mistakes. But what I didn't expect was to not even have a Plan B when my story tale Plan A didn't follow through like I would have liked it to. Now I'm forced with this struggle of being something that I have absolutely no idea how to be.
It's funny, you know, how a simple word, with only two letters, can scare you more than almost any other word scripted from the remaining twenty-four letters in our English alphabet. See, I thought I had it all planned out, drawn out, & worked out, but now I don't want to get out. I'm faced every single day with the ominous question of: now what do you want to be? The possibilities of being something are endless, most often rewarding, but I'm too scared to take a leap of faith & dive into something that may be wrong. I say I don't want to continue with school, because let's be honest, I hate it. & though I am more than thankful for my education, I think it's time for me to turn in my last assignment. If only extra-curricular activities track was an actual degree plan, but I guess communications is pretty close in the running with them. There's thoughts raging through my mind like: Maybe I picked the wrong school from the start. Maybe I decided on the wrong major. Maybe I just wasted thousands of dollars to just want to start all over. All of these 'maybes' are freaking me out.
My main struggle is thinking that my non-existent Plan B isn't going to work out.
Most kids graduate college in their early twenties. They may claim to live an adult-like life, but still resemble a child in more ways than they would an adult. Some still may be lacking in the area of good decisions. Some may have never had the chance to be their own adult because their parents have been feeding them like baby birds their whole lives. Most of the time, a college graduate is sent out into the world still resembling a child, but fitting into an adult-sized body. They think they can take on a full adult life load; a family, a career, bills, a home, the works. But the truth is, we don't even know what we're doing out here! We plaster a smile on our faces & grind our teeth at night. Call our best friends crying & then turn around to tell our parents that we are doing just fine. It's a class act that we have learned to master. Some of us, grow up & out of it, while others wallow & grieve while digging themselves into a miserable hole.
The struggle & issue with the 'be' in being is that we don't understand it's full meaning. We don't quite understand the full potential those two letters can carry. The true definition is doing, not being. Yes, you may be a human being, but it is your human doings that will take you places. That will accomplish tasks, & that will help your life to move forward. Your human doing will be the result of your being.
So while I fret & while I worry, I'm wasting time. No, I don't have a Plan B or a Plan C, or a plan for any of the rest of the alphabet, in any language. Sitting around, pulling my hair out, & stressing over things that won't be so important in the long run, won't result in me getting things done.
"Come to me, all you who are weary & burdened, & I will give you rest." - Matthew 11:28
Peace & love.
B.
Monday, October 6, 2014
{Listening}
I believe in the power of prayer. I believe that there is someone, some creative power out in this world that hears me, that loves me, that watches over me. Sometimes, though I wonder if my words are really being transported & translated in the way that I intended them to be. I know we can all relate to being deep in a thought of prayer, then ramble off something, & immediately wanting to suck in our words, or get embarrassed because we said something in the wrong way. I sometimes convince myself that there is a sonic gap, or a massive layover time between when the words formed on my lips evaporate into the air, until they land on precious ears.
Faith is a weird thing to me. How can I be so in love with an unseen, unknown force? The idea of God, the Creator of the universe, knowing & hearing my every word, my every thought, seeing my every action, & who already knows my outcome, just boggles my mind. How can I, a farm girl with big city dreams, be so important in the grand scheme of things? How is it that He hears not only my prayers, but the prayers of billions of people. How does He translate my messages & give me the answers that I am searching for? Why on earth is my story so important, & why do I matter? In human eyes, we are all just another human, placed into different groups due to status, culture, income, race, & gender. But in the eyes of the Father, we are individuals. We are precious souls. There is no comparison for me to you, or him to her. That's what blows my mind! It is unfathomable to think of another human as a completely separate for everyone & everything. My not being judged by someone or compared & contrasted to another being seriously is the most bizarre thing. & that's just the crazy thing about God. He just does. He is.
I can recall times where I literally am so consumed with pain, so overwhelmed with life, so incandescently unavailable in my own world that all I can do is mutter letters that don't form specific words. Where my tears of pain turn into tears of sorrow. When my heart is broken out on my sleeve & I need someone to sew it back together. But then feel the comfort of something greater than me when my soul is beaten down. I often recall the story of Hannah as she begs & pleads with God to give her a son, just one little baby boy. When Samuel sees her, he thinks she is drunk, but once he listens to her, he feels her pain & offers what he can as a priest in the Temple to help her find peace in her pain & sorrow. I often feel God holding me through other peoples' arms. I hear the comfort of His voice through other peoples' words. When my broken body is repaired by someone else's gentle, dirty hands, I feel the healing of my Father.
I've had so many great opportunities in the past few months to begin the re-development of new prayer life & verbal relationship with God. I started to really focus on my prayers when I began to feel lost, when I began to wonder where God was in my life. When I was alone & disappointed, I grab the thing I was most comfortable holding; a pen. I began to write. As I wrote, I prayed. Writing my every thought on pages after pages of my prayer journal. My writings began to be my readings, my prayers. The words I wrote began to be the words I spoke out loud. There have been many times when I've spend day after day saying the same prayer over & over until it sounded so much like a drone that even I began to think that my methods were wrong. I have really struggled to continue to find new values in individual prayers & praises. We're taught as young Christians to build a relationship with God through prayer, but I have really struggled to remain genuine in my thoughts & words to God throughout my faith walk. I have to constantly remind myself, & stop myself to think of how the Lord as truly, genuinely blessed me, & how I will try to honor & thank Him for the beauty in my life.
What I've realized recently, is that prayer doesn't have to be one sided. It is a conversation. It is verses, & songs, cadences, repetitive lines of praise, of thanks, & hopes. Prayer to me is refreshing. Have you ever sat down in a dark room, no noise, no distractions, just the sound of your breath bouncing off walls? That's my favorite place to pray. Where I can lament to God in a way that He will only see me. Where I let Him fill the dark room with light. I'm not trying to make up a mystical setting, or for you to all think that I sit alone in dark rooms often, but sometimes that is the therapy we just need. Where we can be removed from the world & its noise & chaos. Where we are focused on breathing & listening for God to move about us.
God uses people in different ways; He speaks in many forms, takes on many shapes & faces. But in the end, He is always listening. From our first cry to our last breath & then everywhere far & in between, He has his ear turned to us. To comfort us when we whimper & moan. To hug us when we're lost & to give us comfort when we grieve. Though we can't see Him, I know that through people, God is always around me. Always using other's to show me Himself. I don't ever know when God is using me, but I hope he does. I hope my my soul is a shining light to those around me.
I believe in the power of prayer, because I believe in the power of God.
Peace & love.
B.
Faith is a weird thing to me. How can I be so in love with an unseen, unknown force? The idea of God, the Creator of the universe, knowing & hearing my every word, my every thought, seeing my every action, & who already knows my outcome, just boggles my mind. How can I, a farm girl with big city dreams, be so important in the grand scheme of things? How is it that He hears not only my prayers, but the prayers of billions of people. How does He translate my messages & give me the answers that I am searching for? Why on earth is my story so important, & why do I matter? In human eyes, we are all just another human, placed into different groups due to status, culture, income, race, & gender. But in the eyes of the Father, we are individuals. We are precious souls. There is no comparison for me to you, or him to her. That's what blows my mind! It is unfathomable to think of another human as a completely separate for everyone & everything. My not being judged by someone or compared & contrasted to another being seriously is the most bizarre thing. & that's just the crazy thing about God. He just does. He is.
I can recall times where I literally am so consumed with pain, so overwhelmed with life, so incandescently unavailable in my own world that all I can do is mutter letters that don't form specific words. Where my tears of pain turn into tears of sorrow. When my heart is broken out on my sleeve & I need someone to sew it back together. But then feel the comfort of something greater than me when my soul is beaten down. I often recall the story of Hannah as she begs & pleads with God to give her a son, just one little baby boy. When Samuel sees her, he thinks she is drunk, but once he listens to her, he feels her pain & offers what he can as a priest in the Temple to help her find peace in her pain & sorrow. I often feel God holding me through other peoples' arms. I hear the comfort of His voice through other peoples' words. When my broken body is repaired by someone else's gentle, dirty hands, I feel the healing of my Father.
I've had so many great opportunities in the past few months to begin the re-development of new prayer life & verbal relationship with God. I started to really focus on my prayers when I began to feel lost, when I began to wonder where God was in my life. When I was alone & disappointed, I grab the thing I was most comfortable holding; a pen. I began to write. As I wrote, I prayed. Writing my every thought on pages after pages of my prayer journal. My writings began to be my readings, my prayers. The words I wrote began to be the words I spoke out loud. There have been many times when I've spend day after day saying the same prayer over & over until it sounded so much like a drone that even I began to think that my methods were wrong. I have really struggled to continue to find new values in individual prayers & praises. We're taught as young Christians to build a relationship with God through prayer, but I have really struggled to remain genuine in my thoughts & words to God throughout my faith walk. I have to constantly remind myself, & stop myself to think of how the Lord as truly, genuinely blessed me, & how I will try to honor & thank Him for the beauty in my life.
What I've realized recently, is that prayer doesn't have to be one sided. It is a conversation. It is verses, & songs, cadences, repetitive lines of praise, of thanks, & hopes. Prayer to me is refreshing. Have you ever sat down in a dark room, no noise, no distractions, just the sound of your breath bouncing off walls? That's my favorite place to pray. Where I can lament to God in a way that He will only see me. Where I let Him fill the dark room with light. I'm not trying to make up a mystical setting, or for you to all think that I sit alone in dark rooms often, but sometimes that is the therapy we just need. Where we can be removed from the world & its noise & chaos. Where we are focused on breathing & listening for God to move about us.
God uses people in different ways; He speaks in many forms, takes on many shapes & faces. But in the end, He is always listening. From our first cry to our last breath & then everywhere far & in between, He has his ear turned to us. To comfort us when we whimper & moan. To hug us when we're lost & to give us comfort when we grieve. Though we can't see Him, I know that through people, God is always around me. Always using other's to show me Himself. I don't ever know when God is using me, but I hope he does. I hope my my soul is a shining light to those around me.
I believe in the power of prayer, because I believe in the power of God.
Peace & love.
B.
Sunday, September 7, 2014
{Wedding-Zilla}
From the time I was nine until this year, I could tell you every detail of the wedding I was going to have. The flowers, the colors, the dress, the food, the cake, the shoes, my bridesmaids (which have changed a few members throughout the years), how old I would be. & if you want to know what my wedding will look like, please feel free to check out my Pinterest board dedicated to all things that I cannot afford. Shoot, I have a pin that has been re-pinned over 2000 times, that should almost make me famous & I believe that I should start gain at least some sort of product commission! I've always set my life on the schedule & in my head I told myself it would be perfect. Just one minor detail, you might have guessed, the groom, is still undecided.
I could've told you about how I'd be happily engaged, at least by the age of 21, & with that deadline nearing, I see my chances of my perfect life timeline falling slimmer & slimmer every passing day.
I watch as my sister prepares to be a bride. I stand by her side as her maid-of-honor as she unwraps gifts after gifts at showers, as she goes through color schemes, & bouquet arrangements. I helped her put on her perfect dress, even as a joke, I said, "This is the one." But she rang a bell & said yes to the dress regardless of my jokes. Who knew I had such a knack for picking such things out.
I lived & breathed wedding after wedding when I was younger. Playing the role of flower girl in several weddings only fed to my fire to have an extravagant wedding of my own one day. I remember feeling so incredibly jealous of other girls who were asked to be in a wedding I wasn't in, so jealous that it would just eat at my insides through the whole ceremony. Some might call it just being a flower girl-zilla, but that zilla-ness has given me a run for my money during my sister's whole wedding process, & I've really had to cool my tail so I don't turn into maid-of-honor-zilla, too.
My whole life, I've just wanted a wedding.
But it hasn't been until recently that I've wanted more than just a wedding day, but every single day after I say "I do." Sure, a wedding is great fun, full of joy & the gathering of two families, but I want more than that. I want times where I am so poor that I go to the grocery store & calculate down to the last penny what I can spend on food. Where the only thing keeping my house warm at night is tension between the bed sheets. I want the struggles & the fights, the times where I literally have nothing but him. I want more than a wedding, I want a marriage. Where I can just look one person in the eye, whether is dry or misty, & know that that person will be by my side through all of my mood swings, through all of the good & bad, through all the medical bills & school loans & thousands of dollars in debt.
I watch my sister as she prepares for a marriage. She takes careful consideration of finances, of job security, of her own, & her fiance's happiness. & I can't help but be jealous of that. I always wanted a fairy tale, & my sister is getting my dream. Marrying her childhood sweetheart. Finding out that after 17 years of friendship, comes many more years of love.
.jpg)
I'm no expert on relationships. I'm in college, I'm barely an adult, I struggle to remember to put my contacts in in the mornings. But what I do know, is a marriage takes more than a now & then. It takes a system of give & take. You have to forgive. You have to build up. I've watched both my parents & grandparents give me the perfect examples of a Christ-centered marriage that I want to someday have. My Grammy & Pawpaw just celebrated their 49th wedding anniversary. My parents will be celebrating their 25th this November.
I don't want just a wedding, I want a forever & always. I want for those to be the words I declare when I announce my love. Not just a right now, not just a "when I feel like it," not when it's convenient to you or to me. ALL THE TIME.
& who knows, maybe God's big plan is for me to be single my whole life. But you know what I say to that? I say, gladly. I would rather be single than to have a marriage that has no love. I never want to have to give back the ring that I was given as a token of love.
As I watch my sister prepare for this marriage, I feel myself grow jealous of her being adored. But in a way that I wish I was getting married, (because trust me, Dylan & I would just not work out,) I'm jealous that she found the guy who will treat her like she is the most precious of gold, who will make her laugh at any time of day, who will give his everything to make her happy. I'm glad I got the experience of watching her fall in love. Just one more example to look up to, I guess.
I want more than a wedding, & a ring, & a dress, or the personalized hashtag on InstaGram. I want pure, selfless love, not only do I want to receive it, but I want to give it as well.
From a very wise man, named Herb, I received the best words advice that I have ever heard in my life: "Baby, if his number one goal isn't to get you to heaven, then he isn't worth your time." So I pray that we all wait for him, or you fellas out there shamelessly reading my blogpsosts, wait for her. May God be the center of all of our relationships
Peace & love.
B.
I could've told you about how I'd be happily engaged, at least by the age of 21, & with that deadline nearing, I see my chances of my perfect life timeline falling slimmer & slimmer every passing day.
I watch as my sister prepares to be a bride. I stand by her side as her maid-of-honor as she unwraps gifts after gifts at showers, as she goes through color schemes, & bouquet arrangements. I helped her put on her perfect dress, even as a joke, I said, "This is the one." But she rang a bell & said yes to the dress regardless of my jokes. Who knew I had such a knack for picking such things out.
I lived & breathed wedding after wedding when I was younger. Playing the role of flower girl in several weddings only fed to my fire to have an extravagant wedding of my own one day. I remember feeling so incredibly jealous of other girls who were asked to be in a wedding I wasn't in, so jealous that it would just eat at my insides through the whole ceremony. Some might call it just being a flower girl-zilla, but that zilla-ness has given me a run for my money during my sister's whole wedding process, & I've really had to cool my tail so I don't turn into maid-of-honor-zilla, too.
My whole life, I've just wanted a wedding.
But it hasn't been until recently that I've wanted more than just a wedding day, but every single day after I say "I do." Sure, a wedding is great fun, full of joy & the gathering of two families, but I want more than that. I want times where I am so poor that I go to the grocery store & calculate down to the last penny what I can spend on food. Where the only thing keeping my house warm at night is tension between the bed sheets. I want the struggles & the fights, the times where I literally have nothing but him. I want more than a wedding, I want a marriage. Where I can just look one person in the eye, whether is dry or misty, & know that that person will be by my side through all of my mood swings, through all of the good & bad, through all the medical bills & school loans & thousands of dollars in debt.
I watch my sister as she prepares for a marriage. She takes careful consideration of finances, of job security, of her own, & her fiance's happiness. & I can't help but be jealous of that. I always wanted a fairy tale, & my sister is getting my dream. Marrying her childhood sweetheart. Finding out that after 17 years of friendship, comes many more years of love.
I'm no expert on relationships. I'm in college, I'm barely an adult, I struggle to remember to put my contacts in in the mornings. But what I do know, is a marriage takes more than a now & then. It takes a system of give & take. You have to forgive. You have to build up. I've watched both my parents & grandparents give me the perfect examples of a Christ-centered marriage that I want to someday have. My Grammy & Pawpaw just celebrated their 49th wedding anniversary. My parents will be celebrating their 25th this November.
I don't want just a wedding, I want a forever & always. I want for those to be the words I declare when I announce my love. Not just a right now, not just a "when I feel like it," not when it's convenient to you or to me. ALL THE TIME.
& who knows, maybe God's big plan is for me to be single my whole life. But you know what I say to that? I say, gladly. I would rather be single than to have a marriage that has no love. I never want to have to give back the ring that I was given as a token of love.
As I watch my sister prepare for this marriage, I feel myself grow jealous of her being adored. But in a way that I wish I was getting married, (because trust me, Dylan & I would just not work out,) I'm jealous that she found the guy who will treat her like she is the most precious of gold, who will make her laugh at any time of day, who will give his everything to make her happy. I'm glad I got the experience of watching her fall in love. Just one more example to look up to, I guess.
 |
| Congratulations to my older sister, Jordan, & Dylan! |
I want more than a wedding, & a ring, & a dress, or the personalized hashtag on InstaGram. I want pure, selfless love, not only do I want to receive it, but I want to give it as well.
From a very wise man, named Herb, I received the best words advice that I have ever heard in my life: "Baby, if his number one goal isn't to get you to heaven, then he isn't worth your time." So I pray that we all wait for him, or you fellas out there shamelessly reading my blogpsosts, wait for her. May God be the center of all of our relationships
Peace & love.
B.
Wednesday, August 27, 2014
{Change}
I started my education career in 1999 at the age of five & half. To me, that seems like forever ago. To other people, specifically my mom, it seems like not too long ago. Today, I had my last first day of school: I started the journey of what will be my final year in college.
Ever since we were little, my brother & sisters posed for the camera every first day of school so that Mom had documentation of how cute we were. The back pack sizes vary, some larger, some smaller. My parents should've taken stock out in Crayola with the amount of school supplies we bought every year. But somehow, at the end of each school year, came summer which lead into another school year. But for me, this was my last summer, summer. Before I take a hold of the big girl life, find a big girl job, & do big girl things.
I have mixed feelings about being a college senior. Mainly because I still look like a high school freshman, but because it doesn't seem too long ago that I was just starting college. I can remember starting my first day of 7th grade. I was so nervous. When 9th grade rolled around I spend the whole night before sitting in the bathroom sick to my stomach. The first night I had alone in my dorm room as a freshman in college, I cried myself to sleep because I was so scared. I can't tell you why I was scared, why I was nervous, but it is just something about change in a person's life that can jack up someone's anxiety level in a matter of minutes.
Change is something that happens in everyone's lives. Change is inevitable. Nothing is ever the same. No situation can ever be repeated. No words that leave your lips can ever be taken back or go unheard. Change isn't something I have always accepted, my whole life I've resented change. I have just wanted things to stay the same. It is so hard for me to be away from the life that I knew growing up, with three of my four best friends from high school still living back in or around my hometown, it is hard for me to see them still getting to live the beautiful lives we started there. It is almost a jealousy that they see their families, that they get to see the streets we would cause mayhem on. But just like my life continued in a different state, at a different place, their loves continued on to new places, too.
I can look back through old pictures of elementary school, junior high school, high school. See pictures of speech tournaments, proms, homecomings. Remember the events of cross country trips & show choir competitions. There's picture after picture of me with my best friends. There's boyfriends after boyfriends. Halloween costumes & Christmas presents. Homecoming & prom courts. Football jersey Fridays. Birthday parties & hay-rack rides. Senior pictures. Elementary class promotions & high school graduations. I can remember feeling so grown up as I collected my high school diploma, but looking back now, I can only think of how young I was, how naive, how I was so sheltered from the world. Not to ever say any of this was bad. I was more than blessed with four fantastic best friends that were all over the scale in personalities & taste in boyfriends. My parents were nothing but supportive of my sports decisions. I had the opportunity to run on a cross country team with two of my sisters, & be in a competitive with my sister. Through all of my life experiences, I learned that change can be good. That change should be accepted.
 |
| 1999- First Day on the bus in Kindergarten |
Ever since we were little, my brother & sisters posed for the camera every first day of school so that Mom had documentation of how cute we were. The back pack sizes vary, some larger, some smaller. My parents should've taken stock out in Crayola with the amount of school supplies we bought every year. But somehow, at the end of each school year, came summer which lead into another school year. But for me, this was my last summer, summer. Before I take a hold of the big girl life, find a big girl job, & do big girl things.
 |
| 2003- Madison (Kindergarten) Bailey (3rd Grade) Jordan (5th Grade) |
I have mixed feelings about being a college senior. Mainly because I still look like a high school freshman, but because it doesn't seem too long ago that I was just starting college. I can remember starting my first day of 7th grade. I was so nervous. When 9th grade rolled around I spend the whole night before sitting in the bathroom sick to my stomach. The first night I had alone in my dorm room as a freshman in college, I cried myself to sleep because I was so scared. I can't tell you why I was scared, why I was nervous, but it is just something about change in a person's life that can jack up someone's anxiety level in a matter of minutes.
 |
| 2002- First Day of 2nd Grade (note the broken finger) |
Change is something that happens in everyone's lives. Change is inevitable. Nothing is ever the same. No situation can ever be repeated. No words that leave your lips can ever be taken back or go unheard. Change isn't something I have always accepted, my whole life I've resented change. I have just wanted things to stay the same. It is so hard for me to be away from the life that I knew growing up, with three of my four best friends from high school still living back in or around my hometown, it is hard for me to see them still getting to live the beautiful lives we started there. It is almost a jealousy that they see their families, that they get to see the streets we would cause mayhem on. But just like my life continued in a different state, at a different place, their loves continued on to new places, too.
 |
| May 2011- The Crescent Trio (Emily, Danielle, & I) with our 3rd, 4th, & 6th grade teacher, Mr. Ryan, several years later on his last day of school before retirement. Oh the memories we have. |
I can look back through old pictures of elementary school, junior high school, high school. See pictures of speech tournaments, proms, homecomings. Remember the events of cross country trips & show choir competitions. There's picture after picture of me with my best friends. There's boyfriends after boyfriends. Halloween costumes & Christmas presents. Homecoming & prom courts. Football jersey Fridays. Birthday parties & hay-rack rides. Senior pictures. Elementary class promotions & high school graduations. I can remember feeling so grown up as I collected my high school diploma, but looking back now, I can only think of how young I was, how naive, how I was so sheltered from the world. Not to ever say any of this was bad. I was more than blessed with four fantastic best friends that were all over the scale in personalities & taste in boyfriends. My parents were nothing but supportive of my sports decisions. I had the opportunity to run on a cross country team with two of my sisters, & be in a competitive with my sister. Through all of my life experiences, I learned that change can be good. That change should be accepted.
 |
| 2011- First day of 12th Grade |
Just like hairstyles, & fashion trends, things come back, things stay locked in the vault of the past. You learn lessons as you grow older. Everything has a consequence, however, some maybe be bad, there is always the chance for a reward.
It's funny, how at 18, when your car is loaded down with shoes & clothes ready to hit the highway to your new college adventure, you think you've got the world figured out. But once you're alone that night, you realize you forgot how to make friends because the ones you had were there since your elementary years, or take classes that have curriculum that blows way over your head but fight through anyways. Now that you've got a couple years under your belt, life has been experienced & you are finally comfortable with being an "adult" you find out that in nine short months, your life will once again change.
 |
| August 2012- Headed off to college with my baby sister! |
If I had decided to keep things the same, then I wouldn't have some of the most interesting, compassionate, & fun people in my life. I wouldn't have been a college cheerleader or got to be elected Freshman Class senator or Vice President of the college concert choir. I would've missed out on falling in love with the study of speech communication theory. & never would have met some of the best social club sisters ever. Theta Psi, til I die!
Embrace the life that has been given to you. God will always make changes. Lately, He has made His way back into my life. He changed things so that the most important thing in my life would be Him.
The plan that God has for you is greater than what you could come up with. Allow His changes. Let Him take the lead, & don't worry, you won't ever be alone.
Embrace the life that has been given to you. God will always make changes. Lately, He has made His way back into my life. He changed things so that the most important thing in my life would be Him.
 |
| August 27, 2014- The "first day of my Senior Year at York College" selfie |
The plan that God has for you is greater than what you could come up with. Allow His changes. Let Him take the lead, & don't worry, you won't ever be alone.
Good luck to all of those students out there, from pre-K to graduate school! May you have a blessed school year!
Peace&love.
B.
Wednesday, August 20, 2014
{Attention, folks}
Just like any other person, I want attention. It isn't like I feel like a fly on the wall or that I'm invisible to others, but I want people to notice me. I have a performer's attitude, & with that, I have this desire to be the biggest personality in the room. I want to laugh the most & the loudest. I want to tel the funniest jokes or stories, & do quirky little things that might be slightly embarrassing or awkward, but things I know will bring attention to my direction.
I can walk around on a busy city street sidewalk wearing shorts and a crop top, & feel completely confident in the way I look. But I roll my eyes or get disgusted when I get whistled at or cat-called by someone near by. I don't wear the clothes to be immodest, I wear them because I feel good in them, however. I send other people the message, "Go ahead & look" all while I'm thinking, "Go ahead & look, but don't look for too long, & definitely do not touch or talk to me." See, I'm sending out all the wrong signals for attention. I call men pigs when I'm dressed like a bucket of slop.
I'll admit it, I'm blessed. I know good make up tricks. I can throw a curl or two in my hair & make it look descent. I'm a naturally slender body type, so finding clothes that flatter me isn't too difficult. But because I may appear beautiful on the outside, by society's standards, doesn't mean I'm always beautiful on the inside. Don't get me wrong, it is perfectly okay to love yourself & to be confident in the way you look. It's okay to do a power pep talk in the mirror & say, "dang, I look good!" But there is a thin line between confidence & arrogance. All too often, I catch myself crossing that line, even if it's just a tiny bit.
This generation, this age, right now, is all about the selfie. It's all about how many likes or favorites, or retweets you can get on a Facebook, or Twitter, or Instagram post. It is all for attention. Yes, there are things that should have attention drawn to them, but not everything needs to be posted, not every detail of your life should be posted on the internet or out in cyber space for the whole world to see. I promise, I'm preaching to the choir here, because I am the queen of the selfie. The inventor o a front facing camera was a genius. However, it has turned this age into a conceited, self-glorifying, narcissistic group of people.
Or God created beautiful things, & all of us are product of His creation.
So you're feeling yourself today, thinking you look good & the world needs to know this. So go ahead, snap that selfie with the right lighting, perfect background, & add the filter that makes you look tan, but be sure that your self-glorification does not stand in the way of you glorifying & honoring you Savior.
You may have pretty eyes, a pretty face, or a nice body, but don't forget about the beautiful heart that was placed inside of you. Everyone, you, me, them, us, all have the potential to make your heart & soul outshine what we see on the outside. Embrace the joy in your spirit & don't suppress it with the ugliness of your desire for negative, selfish attention.
Peace & love.
B.
I can walk around on a busy city street sidewalk wearing shorts and a crop top, & feel completely confident in the way I look. But I roll my eyes or get disgusted when I get whistled at or cat-called by someone near by. I don't wear the clothes to be immodest, I wear them because I feel good in them, however. I send other people the message, "Go ahead & look" all while I'm thinking, "Go ahead & look, but don't look for too long, & definitely do not touch or talk to me." See, I'm sending out all the wrong signals for attention. I call men pigs when I'm dressed like a bucket of slop.
I'll admit it, I'm blessed. I know good make up tricks. I can throw a curl or two in my hair & make it look descent. I'm a naturally slender body type, so finding clothes that flatter me isn't too difficult. But because I may appear beautiful on the outside, by society's standards, doesn't mean I'm always beautiful on the inside. Don't get me wrong, it is perfectly okay to love yourself & to be confident in the way you look. It's okay to do a power pep talk in the mirror & say, "dang, I look good!" But there is a thin line between confidence & arrogance. All too often, I catch myself crossing that line, even if it's just a tiny bit.
This generation, this age, right now, is all about the selfie. It's all about how many likes or favorites, or retweets you can get on a Facebook, or Twitter, or Instagram post. It is all for attention. Yes, there are things that should have attention drawn to them, but not everything needs to be posted, not every detail of your life should be posted on the internet or out in cyber space for the whole world to see. I promise, I'm preaching to the choir here, because I am the queen of the selfie. The inventor o a front facing camera was a genius. However, it has turned this age into a conceited, self-glorifying, narcissistic group of people.
Or God created beautiful things, & all of us are product of His creation.
So you're feeling yourself today, thinking you look good & the world needs to know this. So go ahead, snap that selfie with the right lighting, perfect background, & add the filter that makes you look tan, but be sure that your self-glorification does not stand in the way of you glorifying & honoring you Savior.
You may have pretty eyes, a pretty face, or a nice body, but don't forget about the beautiful heart that was placed inside of you. Everyone, you, me, them, us, all have the potential to make your heart & soul outshine what we see on the outside. Embrace the joy in your spirit & don't suppress it with the ugliness of your desire for negative, selfish attention.
Peace & love.
B.
Monday, August 4, 2014
{The Secret To Life}
I know what a low is. I know what it feels like to make it to rock bottom, & I'm not just talking about the Spongebob version of rock bottom. I know the days when you have no motivation, no drive. Where you just feel like you're going through the motions of life, waking up, sitting around, going to sleep, then doing it again the next day. Trust me, I've done it, been through it. You aren't supposed to have a mid-life crisis at the age of 20, unless it's God's way of telling you that you'll only live until the age of 40. So yeah, I'm no expert. I'm no super woman character. I'm just a human, & that's just life.
If you don't have the downs, then how are you supposed to know that you need to appreciate the ups?
Let's face it, almost every one, every normal, ordinary human being, that is, has experienced some sort of life wrecking event. But guess what!? God willing, you wake up the next day, & the day after that.
Happiness is a choice. It is a state of mind. Be grateful for the life you live, for what you have. For the people you love, & for those who love you back.
You have to choose to be dissatisfied.
Goodness, people! Love your life! No matter what, someone has it worse off than you. & if you think that you're the worse off in the world, think again.
One of the things I can't stand most about humanity is how we are never content, never fully pleased, that nothing can completely fulfill the happiness inside of us.
Whenever I struggle to find joy in my life, I take out a notepad, & write down everything I am grateful for. From toilet paper to early morning coffee to a class session being cancelled for the day. Then I sit & pray thanking God for everything on my list. Sure, it seems silly, but why not take time to really focus on what you have?
Obviously, as Americans, we are extremely blessed. Incredibly blessed. Like God really did bless America. But Americans are the most dissatisfied, the least content, greediest of people. Clean water? Yeah, that's free. Public schooling? Yeah, that is offered to every child. Advanced medical care? Yeah, if you need it, we've got it. Churches on street corners? Yeah, we don't have to hide our religion or our beliefs. Wake up people. Why do we need more? Why is it so easy for us to get so down on life?
I'm headed down to Lewisville, Arkansas this week. I'm about to visit my 96 year old great grandmother, for what may be the last time this side of heaven. This woman has lived the most joy-filled life. No, not everything was easy. She grew up with a hardworking father & a pistol Annie mother. They moved from place to place. Owned The Henbest Canning Company, she saw a $1,000 dollar bill, worked through the Great Depression, has laid to rest her first & only husband. Never have I met someone with so much genuine joy in their heart. She doesn't ask for much. Grandmother, just enjoys
If you don't have the downs, then how are you supposed to know that you need to appreciate the ups?
Let's face it, almost every one, every normal, ordinary human being, that is, has experienced some sort of life wrecking event. But guess what!? God willing, you wake up the next day, & the day after that.
Happiness is a choice. It is a state of mind. Be grateful for the life you live, for what you have. For the people you love, & for those who love you back.
You have to choose to be dissatisfied.
Goodness, people! Love your life! No matter what, someone has it worse off than you. & if you think that you're the worse off in the world, think again.
One of the things I can't stand most about humanity is how we are never content, never fully pleased, that nothing can completely fulfill the happiness inside of us.
Whenever I struggle to find joy in my life, I take out a notepad, & write down everything I am grateful for. From toilet paper to early morning coffee to a class session being cancelled for the day. Then I sit & pray thanking God for everything on my list. Sure, it seems silly, but why not take time to really focus on what you have?
Obviously, as Americans, we are extremely blessed. Incredibly blessed. Like God really did bless America. But Americans are the most dissatisfied, the least content, greediest of people. Clean water? Yeah, that's free. Public schooling? Yeah, that is offered to every child. Advanced medical care? Yeah, if you need it, we've got it. Churches on street corners? Yeah, we don't have to hide our religion or our beliefs. Wake up people. Why do we need more? Why is it so easy for us to get so down on life?
I'm headed down to Lewisville, Arkansas this week. I'm about to visit my 96 year old great grandmother, for what may be the last time this side of heaven. This woman has lived the most joy-filled life. No, not everything was easy. She grew up with a hardworking father & a pistol Annie mother. They moved from place to place. Owned The Henbest Canning Company, she saw a $1,000 dollar bill, worked through the Great Depression, has laid to rest her first & only husband. Never have I met someone with so much genuine joy in their heart. She doesn't ask for much. Grandmother, just enjoys
God's creations. Blue Jays are her favorite birds. Rocking on her front porch is one her favorite past times. Just thinking about her puts so much joy in my heart. I didn't think it was possible to admire someone as much as I do my sweet grandmother.
Please, just wake up & smell the flowers, or the coffee, whichever you prefer, & find some sort of joy in your day. We owe it to each other, we owe it to ourselves, & we owe it to our Lord.
Peace & love.
B.
 |
I'm going to ask her the secret to living a happy life, & if she tells me, I'll let you all know too.
|
Please, just wake up & smell the flowers, or the coffee, whichever you prefer, & find some sort of joy in your day. We owe it to each other, we owe it to ourselves, & we owe it to our Lord.
Peace & love.
B.
Thursday, July 24, 2014
{My Story}
I've always wanted to have some sort of story. You know, a testimony that everyone is so shocked to hear & then they see how you've overcome it. I've always just admired people who have gone through some hardship, but then they had some come-to-Jesus moment & their life got flipped around. That has always been so amazing to me, that a God can turn your entire life around on a moments notice. I am always searching for that moment in my life. I know that sounds weird, & strange, like why would you want something terrible & unfortunate to happen to you? It's a weird thing to wish & to look for. But so far, I don't think I've had a "moment" per say. Sure, there have been times in my life that I recognize as God giving me a V8 slap to the forehead, but not that big thing that astonishes everyone. See, I live a very simple, basic, average life. & nothing good ever comes from average, right?
Wrong.
Though I've never had that "moment" or that "story" to tell, there have been times where I feel God trying to pull me into Him. Trying to embrace me. To show me that His way is better than mine. I think almost anyone can name a specific time when they could almost physically feel God pulled them back into His safety.
But are there ever times where you just feel like Job? Where everything & anything is going wrong. Say you lost a job, got terrible grades, had a close death in the family, or a terminal illness diagnosis, or everything you had was destroyed in an instant? Where you are saying, "Okay God, I see you. I trust you." & you watch as things get worse & you pray for patience & guidance. & then once you feel like literally nothing else could go wrong, there is that sort of relief that things will be okay, that you will be just fine, that God will provide all that you need, because He is all that you need. & with this, you start to appreciate the small things in life, the simple beauties such as a child's laugh, or a fresh flower growing in the yard. Where you begin to see God's awesome, mighty power roaring & reigning in your life.
Or are there times when you just feel like Hannah. Where you're so far gone & so beaten down that words can't even be formed as they leave your lips. where you are crying so hard that you can't move, can't breathe. Where every breath you take feels like someone is suffocating you. Where you're literally on your hands & knees screaming "Here I am, God. Use me." & you scream it over & over until you physically cannot anymore. Then when no one else has faith in you, where you are yearning to have God take a hold of your life, that once He does, you take everything He gives you & promptly, & gladly return it to Him. You praise all that you see, that you have. Where the very thing you wanted was the first thing you promised to Him.
There are times when I am just laying in bed at night where I am feeling just like Job saying there is no way that anything can get worse, & putting all of my thoughts & words into prayer, hoping & trusting that there will be a way to find hope, a way to find joy, & peace. Or there are times I find myself just bawling saying "I don't know what you want me to do, Lord, but use me as your servant." It's like I am reaching & grabbing for something that I don't see, that I know is there, but can't find.
My biggest prayers this year have been to find peace & patience, & to stay joyful through all difficulties & all of the mayhem life has to offer. This year has been difficult. Many things have seemed to go wrong in my life, but even through it all, I go to bed thanking the God of all for my breath, for my life, for giving me the chance to show love & grace to others, as well as myself.
I am the type of person who is very empathetic. I feel for people, I am a sympathetic crier, & a softy when it comes to sob stories & other people's hardships, I feel for them, it honestly makes me hurt to see others in such pain. It breaks my heart to see news stories talking about violence, deaths, house fires, anything that could potentially devastate someone else's life at any moment, because I think, that could be me. That could be someone I know. Life is a game if chance, yes God has a plan for each of us, but we do not know that plan. We can't tell when a plane will go missing or be shot down, we don't wake up in the morning & say, "Hmm, I think my house will be destroyed by a tornado today." We don't go to the doctor wishing that he would diagnose us with an incurable disease. We don't wish for these things, we don't want these things, but they still happen regardless of our desires. My heart goes out to those who are hurting, I pray that those affected by war will one day be surrounded by peace. But life is a chance.
So as I am searching for this "story" that I am supposed to have, I realize, that I do't have to have some novel to tell to be a servant of God, to be a follower of Jesus, to be a lover of mankind, to be light in darkness. I just have to be average, & no matter what I am, be it ordinary or extraordinary, God is waiting to give me my calling, to give me my task, to show me my path, so that I can reach my goal. Just like all of the disciples, who were average men, God used them, just like Hannah, & just like Job, God will use me.
The only thing I need to be is open to Him.
Peace & love.
B.
Wrong.
Though I've never had that "moment" or that "story" to tell, there have been times where I feel God trying to pull me into Him. Trying to embrace me. To show me that His way is better than mine. I think almost anyone can name a specific time when they could almost physically feel God pulled them back into His safety.
But are there ever times where you just feel like Job? Where everything & anything is going wrong. Say you lost a job, got terrible grades, had a close death in the family, or a terminal illness diagnosis, or everything you had was destroyed in an instant? Where you are saying, "Okay God, I see you. I trust you." & you watch as things get worse & you pray for patience & guidance. & then once you feel like literally nothing else could go wrong, there is that sort of relief that things will be okay, that you will be just fine, that God will provide all that you need, because He is all that you need. & with this, you start to appreciate the small things in life, the simple beauties such as a child's laugh, or a fresh flower growing in the yard. Where you begin to see God's awesome, mighty power roaring & reigning in your life.
Or are there times when you just feel like Hannah. Where you're so far gone & so beaten down that words can't even be formed as they leave your lips. where you are crying so hard that you can't move, can't breathe. Where every breath you take feels like someone is suffocating you. Where you're literally on your hands & knees screaming "Here I am, God. Use me." & you scream it over & over until you physically cannot anymore. Then when no one else has faith in you, where you are yearning to have God take a hold of your life, that once He does, you take everything He gives you & promptly, & gladly return it to Him. You praise all that you see, that you have. Where the very thing you wanted was the first thing you promised to Him.
There are times when I am just laying in bed at night where I am feeling just like Job saying there is no way that anything can get worse, & putting all of my thoughts & words into prayer, hoping & trusting that there will be a way to find hope, a way to find joy, & peace. Or there are times I find myself just bawling saying "I don't know what you want me to do, Lord, but use me as your servant." It's like I am reaching & grabbing for something that I don't see, that I know is there, but can't find.
My biggest prayers this year have been to find peace & patience, & to stay joyful through all difficulties & all of the mayhem life has to offer. This year has been difficult. Many things have seemed to go wrong in my life, but even through it all, I go to bed thanking the God of all for my breath, for my life, for giving me the chance to show love & grace to others, as well as myself.
I am the type of person who is very empathetic. I feel for people, I am a sympathetic crier, & a softy when it comes to sob stories & other people's hardships, I feel for them, it honestly makes me hurt to see others in such pain. It breaks my heart to see news stories talking about violence, deaths, house fires, anything that could potentially devastate someone else's life at any moment, because I think, that could be me. That could be someone I know. Life is a game if chance, yes God has a plan for each of us, but we do not know that plan. We can't tell when a plane will go missing or be shot down, we don't wake up in the morning & say, "Hmm, I think my house will be destroyed by a tornado today." We don't go to the doctor wishing that he would diagnose us with an incurable disease. We don't wish for these things, we don't want these things, but they still happen regardless of our desires. My heart goes out to those who are hurting, I pray that those affected by war will one day be surrounded by peace. But life is a chance.
So as I am searching for this "story" that I am supposed to have, I realize, that I do't have to have some novel to tell to be a servant of God, to be a follower of Jesus, to be a lover of mankind, to be light in darkness. I just have to be average, & no matter what I am, be it ordinary or extraordinary, God is waiting to give me my calling, to give me my task, to show me my path, so that I can reach my goal. Just like all of the disciples, who were average men, God used them, just like Hannah, & just like Job, God will use me.
The only thing I need to be is open to Him.
Peace & love.
B.
Sunday, June 8, 2014
{My Favorite Antique}
I went antique shopping yesterday. Let me tell you, I found some pretty awesome things. But let me tell you this, old stiff is EX
PENSIVE! I settled on some treasures that would be a perfect Father's day gift for my Daddy, I won't tell you what they are, in case he might read this. I remember when I was little, and even now, when my family treks down to Arkansas to visit my mom's parents, we stop at several antique shops & malls along the side of the interstate. My parents are suckers for cool artifacts that have beautiful character & history.
One of the coolest antique places I have ever been in my life would be Grandpa's basement. This isn't some store in the side of the road, it's not even a store, it's my Grandpa's collection of antiques all stored & displayed in the basement of his house. We would beg as little girls to go down there to look at all of the things in the "room." Grandpa's house was always full of new, old things for us to marvel at. The shed was full of things, as well. My brother thought he was a star of American Pickers & would gather things from the old pig barn & bring them up to the house to show us. Grandpa would go to more auctions & sells than anyone else I know. I can't tell you how much money he would spend on things, some things would be the most pointless, some would be pretty awesome, but he would buy it, big or small, then Thad would have to go get it from the sell tent. My brother's favorite sell story is when there were two cowboy dressed mannequins at a sell, one boy & one girl, which Thad saw, & specifically told Grandpa not to buy. But when the item rolled around Grandpa's number was thrown up for a bid for the boy. Thad had to go get it from the tent, brought it back, & Grandpa said, "Now go get the other." I can only imagine how far back Thad rolled his eyes as he turned to go get the other mannequin.
My summer started off rocky with Grandpa passing away & going to his heavenly home the day after my sister & cousin's college graduation. Waking up to that phone call from my dad was one of the hardest things to do. My sister Jordan runs over, literally runs, over to where I am at in town. I ask why she ran, & she replied, "You can't cry when you're running." Together we stood & held each other in the middle of the street as we cried.
As the week went on, the family all gathered out on the family farm to look through all photographs, share funny stories of Grandpa & memories with him. We had such an outreach from the community, neighbors, friends, & our church family. They also shared stories for Grandpa & the love he had shown to them. Grandpa was a remarkable man. He was the grouchiest at most times, but he also was the most fun when he would play kickball in the back yard with us.
At the funeral, us grandkids got up to sing a song, most of us couldn't make it through it, I blame Taylor for being the first to crack, & when you have a group of sympathetic criers, the rest were soon to follow. Myself a& a few of my cousins & siblings got up to share memories about Grandpa with the large group gathered to remember him. I read writings from my two younger sisters who shared stories of laughter & joy at Grandpa's house. My brother spoke about the time Grandpa sat on Maddie's lap at Thanksgiving. My sister, Jordan, spoke about how Grandpa loved the farm. I talked about how Grandpa had great taste in the dresses he bought us, the ones we picked out for ourselves. Grandpa bought all of us granddaughters, and daughters-in-law, & his two own daughters one last dress the month of his passing. We all take pride in Grandpa's purchases & joke about his fabulous style.
Grandpa was my favorite antique. Grandpa had more character, & stories than any other antique I've seen. He's gotten in trouble & been the hero. He had more life experiences & even more hardship than most antiques go through. He wasn't the type of antique you could just stick on a shelf, he had to be used. Though he used to be one of the strongest men I knew, I watched as he grew older, sicker, more frail. I blessed to be his farm boy, to be his helper, to sit by him every Sunday morning in church. Grandpa always brought up my health more than his own. He would whisper sarcastic remarks in my ear as church services would go on, & would sing through anything. He always lead the family in prayer when we'd go out to eat. Thought us, our whole family, to love the Lord.
Tomorrow will mark the one month time period of his passing. Everyday I see my Grandpa Dress hanging in my closet, and Grandma's necklace sitting on my dresser. I'm reminded of how blessed I am to have had such beautiful grandparents. I was lucky, I am lucky, I will continue to be blessed with my Grammy & Pawpaw, & Great-Grandmother in Arkansas.
Peace & love.
B.
PENSIVE! I settled on some treasures that would be a perfect Father's day gift for my Daddy, I won't tell you what they are, in case he might read this. I remember when I was little, and even now, when my family treks down to Arkansas to visit my mom's parents, we stop at several antique shops & malls along the side of the interstate. My parents are suckers for cool artifacts that have beautiful character & history.
One of the coolest antique places I have ever been in my life would be Grandpa's basement. This isn't some store in the side of the road, it's not even a store, it's my Grandpa's collection of antiques all stored & displayed in the basement of his house. We would beg as little girls to go down there to look at all of the things in the "room." Grandpa's house was always full of new, old things for us to marvel at. The shed was full of things, as well. My brother thought he was a star of American Pickers & would gather things from the old pig barn & bring them up to the house to show us. Grandpa would go to more auctions & sells than anyone else I know. I can't tell you how much money he would spend on things, some things would be the most pointless, some would be pretty awesome, but he would buy it, big or small, then Thad would have to go get it from the sell tent. My brother's favorite sell story is when there were two cowboy dressed mannequins at a sell, one boy & one girl, which Thad saw, & specifically told Grandpa not to buy. But when the item rolled around Grandpa's number was thrown up for a bid for the boy. Thad had to go get it from the tent, brought it back, & Grandpa said, "Now go get the other." I can only imagine how far back Thad rolled his eyes as he turned to go get the other mannequin.
My summer started off rocky with Grandpa passing away & going to his heavenly home the day after my sister & cousin's college graduation. Waking up to that phone call from my dad was one of the hardest things to do. My sister Jordan runs over, literally runs, over to where I am at in town. I ask why she ran, & she replied, "You can't cry when you're running." Together we stood & held each other in the middle of the street as we cried.
As the week went on, the family all gathered out on the family farm to look through all photographs, share funny stories of Grandpa & memories with him. We had such an outreach from the community, neighbors, friends, & our church family. They also shared stories for Grandpa & the love he had shown to them. Grandpa was a remarkable man. He was the grouchiest at most times, but he also was the most fun when he would play kickball in the back yard with us.
At the funeral, us grandkids got up to sing a song, most of us couldn't make it through it, I blame Taylor for being the first to crack, & when you have a group of sympathetic criers, the rest were soon to follow. Myself a& a few of my cousins & siblings got up to share memories about Grandpa with the large group gathered to remember him. I read writings from my two younger sisters who shared stories of laughter & joy at Grandpa's house. My brother spoke about the time Grandpa sat on Maddie's lap at Thanksgiving. My sister, Jordan, spoke about how Grandpa loved the farm. I talked about how Grandpa had great taste in the dresses he bought us, the ones we picked out for ourselves. Grandpa bought all of us granddaughters, and daughters-in-law, & his two own daughters one last dress the month of his passing. We all take pride in Grandpa's purchases & joke about his fabulous style.
Grandpa was my favorite antique. Grandpa had more character, & stories than any other antique I've seen. He's gotten in trouble & been the hero. He had more life experiences & even more hardship than most antiques go through. He wasn't the type of antique you could just stick on a shelf, he had to be used. Though he used to be one of the strongest men I knew, I watched as he grew older, sicker, more frail. I blessed to be his farm boy, to be his helper, to sit by him every Sunday morning in church. Grandpa always brought up my health more than his own. He would whisper sarcastic remarks in my ear as church services would go on, & would sing through anything. He always lead the family in prayer when we'd go out to eat. Thought us, our whole family, to love the Lord.
Tomorrow will mark the one month time period of his passing. Everyday I see my Grandpa Dress hanging in my closet, and Grandma's necklace sitting on my dresser. I'm reminded of how blessed I am to have had such beautiful grandparents. I was lucky, I am lucky, I will continue to be blessed with my Grammy & Pawpaw, & Great-Grandmother in Arkansas.
Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful.
Colossians 3:15
.JPG) |
| Fly high, Grandpa. I love you. |
Peace & love.
B.
Tuesday, May 20, 2014
{Beautiful Soul}
My life has been so incredibly crazy this past year. I've grown & learned so much in just a mere 12 months. It's amazing all the lessons you can learn & all the journeys you can take, & all the mistakes you could make in a blink of an eye. The people you meet today may be your best friends tomorrow, & your best friends might forget you. Life goes on. Being content with what you have in the present is what is important.
When you become an independent individual, you come to realize how much relationships an effect you. I left my first year of school thinking I had a solid group of friends, but somehow, things didn't turn out that way in the fall, was I upset? Yes, but it gave me time to rely on what I had. I had my God, & my mom, well & the rest of my family. That's all a girl needs! I cried about as many times as I prayed, & then called my mom.
My mom has been such a rock in my life this past year. Driving out specifically to visit me or talk with me in person. Greeting me at home with a hug & a kiss on the cheek. I know Mother's Day was a little bit ago, but I think our mother's should be honored more than once a year. My mom is a rockstar.
A lesson I learned from her is to sacrifice your wants for other's needs. Sometimes you have to give more than you take. It's okay to laugh when you don't know what else to do, but then to pray harder than you laughed. The beautiful soul that I am lucky enough to call my mom, is the strongest woman I know. The wittiest too.
I love my mom. As should everyone else.
Wishing my mother a life full of joy, happiness, love, peace, & laughter.
Peace & love.
B.
When you become an independent individual, you come to realize how much relationships an effect you. I left my first year of school thinking I had a solid group of friends, but somehow, things didn't turn out that way in the fall, was I upset? Yes, but it gave me time to rely on what I had. I had my God, & my mom, well & the rest of my family. That's all a girl needs! I cried about as many times as I prayed, & then called my mom.
My mom has been such a rock in my life this past year. Driving out specifically to visit me or talk with me in person. Greeting me at home with a hug & a kiss on the cheek. I know Mother's Day was a little bit ago, but I think our mother's should be honored more than once a year. My mom is a rockstar.
A lesson I learned from her is to sacrifice your wants for other's needs. Sometimes you have to give more than you take. It's okay to laugh when you don't know what else to do, but then to pray harder than you laughed. The beautiful soul that I am lucky enough to call my mom, is the strongest woman I know. The wittiest too.
I love my mom. As should everyone else.
Wishing my mother a life full of joy, happiness, love, peace, & laughter.
Peace & love.
B.
Tuesday, April 8, 2014
{The Measuring Tape}
Labels. We all have them. The idea however, is to look past them, to see through these descriptions. Our personality traits play a major hand in how we are defined. Little words & big words can all be very descriptive of someone.
If I were to look at myself in the mirror, I would like to think positive things of myself. Think that I was cute in some sort of way. Funny in another way. Confident in all ways. But then if I were to go back to the same mirror five minutes later, I would see the flaws that I missed at first. My elbows are too knobby. My Eyeliner isn't perfect. My teeth aren't white enough. I'm plagued by these things that I see. By the way I look at myself. Society has set this standard for me to be this version of "perfect" that not even models on magazine covers can achieve.
I once saw a post, on some website, probably Pintrest, that read "To achieve the natural beauty look, you only need these 27 products." Uhh, I thought you said natural beauty? I must have read that wrong then. Anyway, it was a gag post, just trying to point out the fact that in order to even be au naturale, you must be done up, & made up. What a fake way to be you.
We live in a dehumanizing world that tries to compare your teeth with your eyes, your nose with your ears, & your hands to you feet. Things that should never be compared because they are different things.
As someone who as always been skinny or slender, I feel a lot of pressure to remain that way. But there's a difference between being skinny & being healthy. & trust me, it has taken me years to figure that out.
As a college student, you gain weight, it's just a fact. I have a friend who gained the typical "Freshman 15" when we first started college. However, this past summer & year, she's worked her butt off to lose that weight, & then some, then as a result, has been able to maintain just one weight for this school year. She said that it didn't matter that they weren't losing the weight anymore, but just the fact that she was being healthy. & you know what, who cares if you're a little big bigger, or a little bit smaller, everyone has a different body type. There is no fair way to judge me & you, or him & her.
What I don't understand about people is the fact that everyone hates to feel judged by someone else, but then they turn around & do it to other people. Come on people, God made you all in a special sort of way. I don't get how society gets away with defending the child with a mental disability, or a person because of their race, but then goes & decides to rip apart the girl who is a little bit bigger than the rest, or the boy doesn't size up with all the other boys around his age. Who cares? Like who really cares about your height, about your weight, about the size of shoe you wear or the color of eyeliner you decided to try out. Who really cares? We all have emotions & feelings, we all understand the pressure that is put on us daily to be this unrealistic idea of "perfect."
I wish everyone could see that they are enough. The size of your jeans or the color of your eyes does not define your character or your value. It does not define whether you are joyful or friendly. In the long run, beauty fads, fashions change, & then we will all look back & laugh at ourselves for what we thought was "cool."
I hate how today's world has turned the term "beautiful" into an ugly thing. We despise those who are beautiful because they are not us. We want to be that beautiful, but can't because even that beautiful is fake. I would really like someone to tell me who decided what the definition of beautiful was. I honestly don't think it is: size 2, 110 lbs, 5'5", blonde hair, blue eyes. I think when God created the world, He created it all to be beautiful, but as we've developed eyes that see flaws, we can only begin to focus in on those flaws. I see beauty as confidence, & as joy, as love & peace.
If society would stop trying to put a measuring tape to our waist & stop trying to force a gap between our thighs, or shape the muscles on our arms & stomach into an unnatural shape, then maybe we could see the beauty God instilled in each of us; all of the unique qualities that are placed on our bodies. I'm so sick of being told that there is some standard that we need to live up to, when really the only standard we need to live up to is the one that Jesus set for us, for us to love, not hate, & love starts with ourselves.
Peace & love.
B.
If I were to look at myself in the mirror, I would like to think positive things of myself. Think that I was cute in some sort of way. Funny in another way. Confident in all ways. But then if I were to go back to the same mirror five minutes later, I would see the flaws that I missed at first. My elbows are too knobby. My Eyeliner isn't perfect. My teeth aren't white enough. I'm plagued by these things that I see. By the way I look at myself. Society has set this standard for me to be this version of "perfect" that not even models on magazine covers can achieve.
I once saw a post, on some website, probably Pintrest, that read "To achieve the natural beauty look, you only need these 27 products." Uhh, I thought you said natural beauty? I must have read that wrong then. Anyway, it was a gag post, just trying to point out the fact that in order to even be au naturale, you must be done up, & made up. What a fake way to be you.
We live in a dehumanizing world that tries to compare your teeth with your eyes, your nose with your ears, & your hands to you feet. Things that should never be compared because they are different things.
As someone who as always been skinny or slender, I feel a lot of pressure to remain that way. But there's a difference between being skinny & being healthy. & trust me, it has taken me years to figure that out.
As a college student, you gain weight, it's just a fact. I have a friend who gained the typical "Freshman 15" when we first started college. However, this past summer & year, she's worked her butt off to lose that weight, & then some, then as a result, has been able to maintain just one weight for this school year. She said that it didn't matter that they weren't losing the weight anymore, but just the fact that she was being healthy. & you know what, who cares if you're a little big bigger, or a little bit smaller, everyone has a different body type. There is no fair way to judge me & you, or him & her.
What I don't understand about people is the fact that everyone hates to feel judged by someone else, but then they turn around & do it to other people. Come on people, God made you all in a special sort of way. I don't get how society gets away with defending the child with a mental disability, or a person because of their race, but then goes & decides to rip apart the girl who is a little bit bigger than the rest, or the boy doesn't size up with all the other boys around his age. Who cares? Like who really cares about your height, about your weight, about the size of shoe you wear or the color of eyeliner you decided to try out. Who really cares? We all have emotions & feelings, we all understand the pressure that is put on us daily to be this unrealistic idea of "perfect."
I wish everyone could see that they are enough. The size of your jeans or the color of your eyes does not define your character or your value. It does not define whether you are joyful or friendly. In the long run, beauty fads, fashions change, & then we will all look back & laugh at ourselves for what we thought was "cool."
I hate how today's world has turned the term "beautiful" into an ugly thing. We despise those who are beautiful because they are not us. We want to be that beautiful, but can't because even that beautiful is fake. I would really like someone to tell me who decided what the definition of beautiful was. I honestly don't think it is: size 2, 110 lbs, 5'5", blonde hair, blue eyes. I think when God created the world, He created it all to be beautiful, but as we've developed eyes that see flaws, we can only begin to focus in on those flaws. I see beauty as confidence, & as joy, as love & peace.
If society would stop trying to put a measuring tape to our waist & stop trying to force a gap between our thighs, or shape the muscles on our arms & stomach into an unnatural shape, then maybe we could see the beauty God instilled in each of us; all of the unique qualities that are placed on our bodies. I'm so sick of being told that there is some standard that we need to live up to, when really the only standard we need to live up to is the one that Jesus set for us, for us to love, not hate, & love starts with ourselves.
Peace & love.
B.
Monday, February 24, 2014
{Determination}
To me, being told you're a hardworker is one of the biggest and best compliments you could ever receive. Growing up on a farm in Iowa, hard work & long hours of labor were required basically from birth. At a young age, we were helping Grandpa pick up sticks or riding around on the lawn mower with him or the tractor with Daddy. As we got a little older, we began to help feed the cows, & by we, I mainly mean me, my sisters somehow got out of it. Lucky, the baby brother grew up quickly, so he took over that job. Then there were the times we were chasing run away cattle or chopping thistles, which Grandpa paid us 25 cents per head. There was grass to be raked, weeds to be pulled, mulch to be laid. We grew older & then came time for Jordan & I, (Maddie & Tay got out of this one too) to help all the older boy cousins put up hay. Jordan would drive the tractor, I would stand on the lowboy & catch all the hay bails that weighed if not the same as me, or more, & I would stack them up. But I didn't mind this too much at the time, since the neighbor boy would come & help us, & who doesn't love a farmer boy?? I mean let's be real, city boys just don't cut it for this girl.
I grew up being taught & lead by the example of my dad. He is the hardest working man I have ever met. He taught me that if I want something to get accomplished, ten I have to work hard to get it accomplished. Though some times I get frustrated, or irritated, I always come back to that project to finish it. Because work should never go unfinished, in my mind, at least.
My senior year of high school, I was named captain of my cross country team. Though I was elated, I wasn't able to actually be on the team. I had run on the Varsity the years leading up to my senior season, but in my efforts to be the best, & by the best, I mean not come in last place, I hurt my back. To the point where I wore a back brace & frequented the chiropractor, I also became very good friends with my physical therapist. As captain, I only ran in 3 & a half races, the half being I stopped in the middle of our fist race because I just couldn't do it anymore. I've never been a great athlete, but I've always been competitive, & it was the competitive drive that had me determined to finish the season. Though there were many practices where I didn't run, & stood at the top of the hill to cheer on my teammates as they were making the climb, but it broke my heart not to run & be a part of the team that I was named the head of. I ran in a couple of races, on JV, I lost my Varsity spot to some striving, hardworking, & successful freshmen girl runners, but I ran. I placed top 15 in the first two races that I actually finished that season. (Top 15 on JV place & earn team points in most races.)
When the season was ending out, we were up in Sioux City, Iowa about to run in the Conference meet. I wasn't going to run. But it was my last race I was eligible for. As we stood at the start line waiting for the boys Varsity to take off, I turned to my coach & told him I wanted to run. He looked at me, cocked his had to the side & said, "Boo boo, I was hoping you would."I struggled o quickly put on my uniform in a port-a-potty & then joined my team on the start line as they stretched. My little sister, hugged me before the race & told me good luck.
I finished 15th in that race. My time was faster than two of the Varsity runners on my own team.
I finished that race & I cried as I hugged the other senior girls & my sister. My coaches came up to me & hugged me, told me how proud they were of me & how hard I had worked to encourage the team that season.
I do set construction for our theatre department for a credit that applies to my major. I think I impress the director with my power tool knowledge & my expertise in painting flats. It's always so rewarding when I see the finished product & to know that I play a major hand in the construction of it all, & feel very humbled when the director comes up to me to tell me that I'm a hardworker & that he trusts me.
As I've mentioned in other posts, I work as a janitor for the school. Dennis, our maintenance man, always tells me a I'm a great worker & he can always count on me to get the job done, no matter how repulsive the task may be. Last week, I was given the "Panther of the Week" award on our schools bathroom chronicle, "Toilet Talk." It weirded me out to see my name & a picture of me smiling every time I used a public restroom on this campus, however, it felt great to be recognized for my work.
I'm not meaning to brag on any of these things, more to say a huge thank you to those who recognize a good work ethic. There are tons of people every single day who go without recognition from anyone. So take a moment today, & thank someone who has helped you out in any way. I think that we often take too many people for granted, & everyone enjoys being told that their efforts are making a difference.
"The Lord will ope the heavens, the storehouse of his bounty, to send rain on your land in season & to bless the work of your hands."
-Deuteronomy 28:12
Peace & love.
B.
I grew up being taught & lead by the example of my dad. He is the hardest working man I have ever met. He taught me that if I want something to get accomplished, ten I have to work hard to get it accomplished. Though some times I get frustrated, or irritated, I always come back to that project to finish it. Because work should never go unfinished, in my mind, at least.
My senior year of high school, I was named captain of my cross country team. Though I was elated, I wasn't able to actually be on the team. I had run on the Varsity the years leading up to my senior season, but in my efforts to be the best, & by the best, I mean not come in last place, I hurt my back. To the point where I wore a back brace & frequented the chiropractor, I also became very good friends with my physical therapist. As captain, I only ran in 3 & a half races, the half being I stopped in the middle of our fist race because I just couldn't do it anymore. I've never been a great athlete, but I've always been competitive, & it was the competitive drive that had me determined to finish the season. Though there were many practices where I didn't run, & stood at the top of the hill to cheer on my teammates as they were making the climb, but it broke my heart not to run & be a part of the team that I was named the head of. I ran in a couple of races, on JV, I lost my Varsity spot to some striving, hardworking, & successful freshmen girl runners, but I ran. I placed top 15 in the first two races that I actually finished that season. (Top 15 on JV place & earn team points in most races.)
When the season was ending out, we were up in Sioux City, Iowa about to run in the Conference meet. I wasn't going to run. But it was my last race I was eligible for. As we stood at the start line waiting for the boys Varsity to take off, I turned to my coach & told him I wanted to run. He looked at me, cocked his had to the side & said, "Boo boo, I was hoping you would."I struggled o quickly put on my uniform in a port-a-potty & then joined my team on the start line as they stretched. My little sister, hugged me before the race & told me good luck.
I finished 15th in that race. My time was faster than two of the Varsity runners on my own team.
I finished that race & I cried as I hugged the other senior girls & my sister. My coaches came up to me & hugged me, told me how proud they were of me & how hard I had worked to encourage the team that season.
I do set construction for our theatre department for a credit that applies to my major. I think I impress the director with my power tool knowledge & my expertise in painting flats. It's always so rewarding when I see the finished product & to know that I play a major hand in the construction of it all, & feel very humbled when the director comes up to me to tell me that I'm a hardworker & that he trusts me.
As I've mentioned in other posts, I work as a janitor for the school. Dennis, our maintenance man, always tells me a I'm a great worker & he can always count on me to get the job done, no matter how repulsive the task may be. Last week, I was given the "Panther of the Week" award on our schools bathroom chronicle, "Toilet Talk." It weirded me out to see my name & a picture of me smiling every time I used a public restroom on this campus, however, it felt great to be recognized for my work.
I'm not meaning to brag on any of these things, more to say a huge thank you to those who recognize a good work ethic. There are tons of people every single day who go without recognition from anyone. So take a moment today, & thank someone who has helped you out in any way. I think that we often take too many people for granted, & everyone enjoys being told that their efforts are making a difference.
"The Lord will ope the heavens, the storehouse of his bounty, to send rain on your land in season & to bless the work of your hands."
-Deuteronomy 28:12
Peace & love.
B.
Sunday, February 9, 2014
{Stole my heart}
I have a million other posts ready to go, & a million more ideas as to what I want to share with you all, but right now, my heart is stuck on this: innocence.
Yesterday morning, my college cheer team put on a cheer clinic from 9 until noon. We had nearly 50 girls from York county show up to the clinic. & I feel absolutely in love with each of them. They came with big smiles, bright eyes, & eager attitudes, ready to learn & have a great time. They melted my heart as they worked on jumps, cartwheels, made pyramids, did lifts & stunts, learned cheers & when they worked on their routine.
I walked around to the stations with my camera and snapped some very sweet, innocent pictures of the girls genuinely enjoying themselves as they made new friends. Some of the girls' parents were staff members or teachers here at York. Others just came because of flyers we gave out to schools & stuck around the community.
Here's just a few pictures that I took, that are absolutely TO DIE for!
 |
| These girls all jumped together quickly at the chance for a photo opp! Such fun! |
 |
| Brinkley was such a cute little girl! Loved working with her & teaching her cheers! |
 |
| Coach Katie is squished between a bunch of cheer clinic cuties while they're waiting for the next station! Thanks for the great idea to do the clinic, Kate! |
 |
| Calleigh Lones was really enjoying the poster painting portion of the day, & had a little help from Alaia! Her mom posted all over social media about how much fun Cal had at the clinic! So glad she got to join us! |
 |
| Chloe came & volunteered her Saturday morning to help out in the crafts station to help the girls make hair ties! |
 |
| Brinkley got a little messy while making her poster for the men's team to hold at the game. |
 |
| Alaia helped walk the kindergarten group around to the stations. I think she really enjoyed being with all of these sweethearts. |
 |
| Bre helped out Kensley, a girl who knows me from working at the restaurant, she was very excited to make her hair tie! |
 |
| Jakelynn didn't want to wear the pink shirt that I picked out for her, luckily all the girls in her group were wearing pink too. They're all pretty in pink! Perfect choice, Jake! |
 |
| Tara's group of 2nd graders all loved the Huskers, good thing for her! But I think T enjoyed the cheer clinic than she would ever want to admit to anyone. |
 |
| These two, Cammie & Brinkley, stole my heart right here. Brinkley was eating a granola bar that her dad gave her & she willingly offered Cammei the other half. It melted my heart to see the two of them sitting there chatting & chowing down on the bleachers. |
Who remembers he time they lost their innocent & their pure heart? Or who remembers the first time they said a curse word, or told a lie. These girls are just living life. They're willing to take the hand of any familiar face because they don't see the danger or hurt in the world. Sure when growing up, you recognize what is going on, & you move out of the G rated version of real life & look into the eyes of the R rated world. It breaks my heart to know that there are children who grow up in a word like that. Thankfully, there is a God that watches over those children & a God who loves them even when they think that no one else does. It's a blessing to be little & to beloved.
I want to share part of a poem that I fell in love with by Ina Huges
"A Prayer For Children"
We pray for children who sneak popsicles before
supper,
who erase holes in math workbooks,who throw tantrums in grocery stores and pick at their food,
who like ghost stories,
who can never find their shoes.
And we pray for those who stare at photographers from behind barbed wire
who never go to the circus,
who can’t bound down the street in a new pair of sneakers,
who are born into places we wouldn’t want to be caught dead in,
who live in an X-rated world.
We pray for children who sleep with the dog and bury the goldfish
who bring us sticky kisses and handfuls of dandelions,
who get visits from the tooth fairy, who hug us in a furry
We pray for children who sleep with the dog and bury the goldfish
who bring us sticky kisses and handfuls of dandelions,
who get visits from the tooth fairy, who hug us in a furry and forget their lunch money.
I fell asleep last night, extremely tired, but with a smile on my face thinking about these precious little girls. I prayed thanking God for the chance to have been able to provide them with a fun, healthy activity.
Here's a video of the little girl's dance that one of he "cheer" mom's video taped. Such fun & so precious! (Thanks, Mrs. Lones!)
My day was filled with love & joy. I think I gave a little bit of my heart to those little girls, but I'm okay with that. I needed to be filled with joy, & they all filled my cup, & it overflows.
Peace & love.
B.
Sunday, February 2, 2014
{Graced}
The last time I was pulled over by a cop was Wednesday. I had just worked an 8 hour waitress shift & was munching on french fries as I was driving from McCool to my dorm. I was pretty satisfied with the night having made over 90 dollars on a week night, so the fries were my way of celebrating. Anyway, I was driving through town, & I stopped at a red stoplight. A state patrol car pulls up next to me, I don't make anything of it. I wasn't doing anything wrong, other than me stuffing fries into my face in a very unladylike fashion. But all of my tail lights were working, my seat belt was on, my car registration was up to date, my cell phone was safely packed away in my purse. I had nothing to worry about. So the light turns green & I head down the block. But the state patrol car does not, I don't know why it's still sitting there, but then he takes off as well. Before I even reach the next stoplight a block down, blue & red lights are flashing in my rear view mirror. COME ON!Well, the officer comes up to my window & asks if I know why I being pulled over. "Uh no, officer." I reply. Then he chuckles. If a police officer pulls you over & then laughs at you, then you start to feel like an idiot. So then I said, "What did I do?" He chuckles a little more then points out the fact that apparently I blatantly ran a red light in front of him. Now I'm really embarrassed. He mentions my out of state license plates & drivers license, so I inform him that I'm a college student in town. Then he says, "Do you know Tim & Bev McNeese, or have them as teachers?" I reply, "I had Mr. McNeese last year, I really enjoyed his class, he is very smart & passionate about his job, but I'm not quite sure he liked having my sister & I in the same class since we talk, a lot." Then he laughs again. I know I'm not that funny tonight, so I just sit & wait for his response. "Good answer, those are my parents." ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Now, I'm completely embarrassed about the fact that I can't tell the difference between red & green, & the fact that this officer is in close relations with people who have had me in class. We both laugh about it for a bit, & he gives me a warning, & tells me to have a good night. I was shown a little grace, however, I would like to say my humor helped me a little in this situation, because obviously, he could not stop chuckling.
Last Friday night, two days after the whole, "You should've just said you were testing to see if I was a real cop or not" ordeal, we put on the first Psallo concert (Psallo is an a Capella group that our school uses as a recruiting & admissions tool) of the school year for the Youth Rally at the East Hill Church of Christ here in York. We had quite the crowd of high school & middle school kids, & but the majority of the crowd were our fellow classmates. We're still building our set. Two of the songs were written by a former Psallo member, one sing is the "Cup" song from Pitch Perfect, we close our set with a girl's powerhouse number, Roar by Katy Perry, another song we found on the YouTube, & then we performed a song that I wrote specifically for the group. Our Dean of Students, who's son is also in Psallo, video taped the entire show, but for some reason only put up my "Amazing Love" on her page.
The words go something like this:
Amazing love
Amazing grace
My Savior gave His life
He poured out His holy blood
The greatest sacrifice
And covers me and covers me
His grace falls down and covers me
And covers me and covers me
His grace falls down and covers me
His hands, his feet
They scared with nails
My Savior bore my sins
He cried out “Forgive them Lord”
Now I will forever live
And covers me and covers me
His grace falls down and covers me
And covers me and covers me
His grace falls down and covers me
Amazing Grace
How sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me
I once was lost but now I’m found
Was blind but now I see
And covers me and covers me
His grace falls down and covers me
And covers me and covers me
His grace falls down and covers me
In my life, I have seen a lot of grace, & I think that I fail to recognize everyday how incredibly blessed I am. in 2011, I attended a Leadership Camp that my church camp put on. We were taught a song, also called "Amazing Love." Ever since then, that has been my favorite devotional song to sing. The year prior to that, I attended that same Leadership Camp where I met a man named, David Bendickson. He was a true man of God, a very wise mentor & spiritual leader. At the beginning of January, while on choir tour, he had a stroke & a day or two later he passed away. I'm sure all of the angels were rejoicing as he finally got to go home. But part of me still wishes I could hear some more wise words from him. I was so incredibly blessed to have known such a great man. Every time I sing the song I learned back in 2011, I think of Mr. Dave.
In a way, I relate the song I wrote to the song I learned. So when I finally got to perform it for an audience on Friday,the words that I wrote finally hit me. I want live my life like Mr. Dave did. I cannot wait to be greeted with a hug from him when my time comes. Until then, rest easy, Mr. Dave.
Leadership Camp 2010- Team Bendickson
Peace & love.
B.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)