I would have written a blog post much sooner, but I've discovered Pinterest. It's a lot less work than writing and it's a lot more aesthetically pleasing and it's a great way to waste time. How can you go wrong with that, right?
For those of you who don't know what Pinterest is, it's a place where anyone can post pictures from other websites, add a little caption, and put them on their categorized "pin boards." And you can repin other people's pins. I feel like most people that use it are females, and as girly as we all are together, we share pictures of dream weddings and yummy food and interior decorating and clothes and photographs of ballerinas and babies and every crafty and cute how-to you can think of. It's pretty wonderful.
And now I'm addicted.
I'll get on my computer, say to myself, "Well, I have nothing to do for half an hour, so I'll just fart around on facebook." Then that half hour of facebook time turns into ten minutes (max) of facebook time and an hour and a half of Pinterest time. I feel like such a nerd.
In case you were wondering, a few of my pin boards include "Clocks" (with all kinds of quirky/cool clocks, because I'm a clock person or whatever. Analog all the way), "To do list" (self-explanatory... I have actually done a few of the crafts on it though! It's not all just wishful thinking!), "'Normal Hair'" (hairstyles for me to try when I say goodbye to my beloved dreadies), "Dreaming of a Wedding" (I am very particular about this one... some people pin every white dress and cute wedding photo that strikes their fancy. I only post things I would actually consider using/trying/wearing/doing. When I get engaged eventually, I want to be able to go to my wedding pin board and be able to plan without extensive browsing), and "My style" (which is mostly just clothes and accessories... and pictures of people with nice dreads). Other pin boards I have include "Jesus pins," "Photography & Art," "Foods," "For the home," and a couple others that I don't care about as much. So yeah. I'm into this.
When asked the other day at Bible study what my addiction(s) were (we were going around the circle... it's not like someone just called me out on being an addict of something), I first simply said the internet, and everyone murmured in agreement.
After some more thought, I added chocolate milk. I've been drinking chocolate milk since I was a little girl. We rarely bought chocolate milk, but we always bought milk and chocolate syrup, which I would pour a TON of if I could get away with it (SUPER chocolatey...). It was a regular part of every dinner. However, since I got to college, my habit of chocolate milk drinking waned and I turned more toward juice. Chocolate milk became sort of a special treat.
However, recently I randomly convinced myself that I haven't been getting enough calcium, and since white milk wouldn't motivate me enough to take my calcium on a regular basis, I've picked up chocolate milk drinking with a vengeance. By that hyperbole I don't mean I have to drink it at every meal. But I do have to drink it every day. It's vital. I would probably die without it. No, wait. I would definitely die without it.
And lastly, I decided I'm addicted to wearing shoes. Having bare feet normally weirds me out unless it's grass (still would much rather wear shoes) or I'm sleeping in my bed. I even wear flip flops in the shower (at least when I'm not at home). This isn't really an addiction, more just something quirky about me, but I think it's notable because when people see my dreads they think hippie and they expect me to run around without any shoes on. But I like wearing shoes. Another stereotype smashed, you're welcome.
Also, they're called slippers, not "house shoes." And yes, I wear them.
If I come up with any more addictions, I may or may not let you guys know. If you ever want to hear about some of my odd OCD-like habits, just ask. Actually don't. Don't ask. Ignorance is bliss. That's all. Goodbye.
God bless.
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Saturday, March 24, 2012
Stand Up
This blog post is being written in lieu of my research methods paper.
I have a story for you people. It's a true one, or as true as my memory will allow.
Once upon a time, about 90 seconds ago, I saw a post on facebook from a church I've been to a few times about the series they're apparently doing right now called "Stand Up." I found it ironic that they're doing this series, since this was the very church I stood up in front of over a year ago.
Sunday, January 2, 2011, I went to one of their morning services with my boyfriend at the time (who was a member there). He and I had had some discussions about our views on the creation of the universe. We were both Christians and we both gave the credit to God being the creator. However, while he (my boyfriend, not God) was a pretty conservative guy, I considered myself to be "searching". He firmly believed that God created the world 6,000 years ago and that evolution (except micro-evolution) was a myth. I believed that God might have used things like evolution and the big bang to create the world, but that no one could really know because no one was there at the time except him. This was a disagreement we had but it didn't really cause any problems between us until that Sunday.
The pastor (who to this day I hold in the highest respect) was basing his sermon on the evolution vs. creationism debate. He kept trying to prove that evolutionists were all wrong and were all atheists. I had a really hard time accepting this, obviously. First of all, his ideas and logic against evolution were not based on proven data or facts. Second of all, I thought he was wrong to say that one who believed in evolution was certainly not saved. In my opinion, salvation is found in Christ, not in creationism. I knew born-again Christians that supported evolutionist ideas. While, as a Christian, one is expected to accept and believe the Bible in its entirety, can't there be different interpretations?
So as I sat there listening to the pastor bash evolutionist ideas (and even some of my own ideas), I felt my blood boil. And that's not a sensation I get very often. When I looked to my left at my boyfriend sitting next to me, I watched him, the man I loved so much, soaking in every word, nodding in agreement. He believed so blindly this man that he loved, admired, and looked up to. He didn't have a grain of criticism toward him. His pastor's word was gold. It was practically gospel. And boy, did that make my blood boil even more. I was uncharacteristically pissed.
Eventually I could take no more of this sermon. I murmured to my boyfriend, "I have to go." and I picked up my coat and purse, and I stood up from my seat (which was front and center of the church), and walked down the aisle of the church, with my back straight and my held held high, looking straight ahead of me. I made a point and probably upset a lot of people. Some of them probably thought I really did need to leave to be somewhere; some of them probably understood that I was angry and prayed for my pour hopeless soul.
My boyfriend and I broke up four days later.
He said my religious beliefs were too different than his. I begged to differ, but he would have none of it. Our breakup was for the better, but that's the story of how we got into an argument that ended it once and for all.
I look back on that day and I'm still glad I did what I did. Although my beliefs regarding creationism vs. evolution have been modified and slightly solidified since then, I would like to think I would still stand up for my beliefs with such resolution.
Unfortunately, saying "stand up for what you believe in!" is both cliché and easier said than done. My quiet and unobtrusive attitude usually inspires me to sit in the shadows and observe while my conscious is screaming, "SAY/DO SOMETHING!!" and my inhibitions are practically sobbing, "No, I'll dieeeeeeeeee!" So sometimes there's just a little bit of inner conflict going on there. I'm almost certain I would be a willing martyr if God brought me to such a situation, but it's hard sometimes to get up the courage to talk in smaller-scale situations.
Where am I going with this?
I don't know. I'm done. I really need to write this paper.
P.S. I have gone back to that church since then (obviously not with my ex-boyfriend). And I still like it. And I still like the pastor.
In conclusion, stand up for what you believe in. AND DON'T LET NOBODY TELL YOU NO DIFFERENT.
God bless.
I have a story for you people. It's a true one, or as true as my memory will allow.
Once upon a time, about 90 seconds ago, I saw a post on facebook from a church I've been to a few times about the series they're apparently doing right now called "Stand Up." I found it ironic that they're doing this series, since this was the very church I stood up in front of over a year ago.
Sunday, January 2, 2011, I went to one of their morning services with my boyfriend at the time (who was a member there). He and I had had some discussions about our views on the creation of the universe. We were both Christians and we both gave the credit to God being the creator. However, while he (my boyfriend, not God) was a pretty conservative guy, I considered myself to be "searching". He firmly believed that God created the world 6,000 years ago and that evolution (except micro-evolution) was a myth. I believed that God might have used things like evolution and the big bang to create the world, but that no one could really know because no one was there at the time except him. This was a disagreement we had but it didn't really cause any problems between us until that Sunday.
The pastor (who to this day I hold in the highest respect) was basing his sermon on the evolution vs. creationism debate. He kept trying to prove that evolutionists were all wrong and were all atheists. I had a really hard time accepting this, obviously. First of all, his ideas and logic against evolution were not based on proven data or facts. Second of all, I thought he was wrong to say that one who believed in evolution was certainly not saved. In my opinion, salvation is found in Christ, not in creationism. I knew born-again Christians that supported evolutionist ideas. While, as a Christian, one is expected to accept and believe the Bible in its entirety, can't there be different interpretations?
So as I sat there listening to the pastor bash evolutionist ideas (and even some of my own ideas), I felt my blood boil. And that's not a sensation I get very often. When I looked to my left at my boyfriend sitting next to me, I watched him, the man I loved so much, soaking in every word, nodding in agreement. He believed so blindly this man that he loved, admired, and looked up to. He didn't have a grain of criticism toward him. His pastor's word was gold. It was practically gospel. And boy, did that make my blood boil even more. I was uncharacteristically pissed.
Eventually I could take no more of this sermon. I murmured to my boyfriend, "I have to go." and I picked up my coat and purse, and I stood up from my seat (which was front and center of the church), and walked down the aisle of the church, with my back straight and my held held high, looking straight ahead of me. I made a point and probably upset a lot of people. Some of them probably thought I really did need to leave to be somewhere; some of them probably understood that I was angry and prayed for my pour hopeless soul.
My boyfriend and I broke up four days later.
He said my religious beliefs were too different than his. I begged to differ, but he would have none of it. Our breakup was for the better, but that's the story of how we got into an argument that ended it once and for all.
I look back on that day and I'm still glad I did what I did. Although my beliefs regarding creationism vs. evolution have been modified and slightly solidified since then, I would like to think I would still stand up for my beliefs with such resolution.
Unfortunately, saying "stand up for what you believe in!" is both cliché and easier said than done. My quiet and unobtrusive attitude usually inspires me to sit in the shadows and observe while my conscious is screaming, "SAY/DO SOMETHING!!" and my inhibitions are practically sobbing, "No, I'll dieeeeeeeeee!" So sometimes there's just a little bit of inner conflict going on there. I'm almost certain I would be a willing martyr if God brought me to such a situation, but it's hard sometimes to get up the courage to talk in smaller-scale situations.
Where am I going with this?
I don't know. I'm done. I really need to write this paper.
P.S. I have gone back to that church since then (obviously not with my ex-boyfriend). And I still like it. And I still like the pastor.
In conclusion, stand up for what you believe in. AND DON'T LET NOBODY TELL YOU NO DIFFERENT.
God bless.
Friday, March 16, 2012
Happy Birthday, Blog!
This is pretty belated, since I wrote my first blog post on March 1, 2011, and it is March 16, 2012 today, but I wanted to wish my blog happy birthday.
Happy 1st birthday, blog!
We've come a long way together. Really.
You've helped me meet people I never thought I would meet. You've disappointed me, but more than that, you've been very encouraging to me. You helped me grow as a writer, and you helped me connect with people that would help me through tough times. You strengthened my relationships. You helped me express myself. You boosted my self-esteem. You showed me that I'm not very funny. You listened to me while I ranted. You helped me come to several revelations. You've comforted me. Thanks, a lot. You've done a lot in a year! I'm impressed.
Let's do another year, shall we?
As for my faithful readers, especially those that have been with me since the beginning, thank you. Your support means so much.
God bless.
Happy 1st birthday, blog!
We've come a long way together. Really.
You've helped me meet people I never thought I would meet. You've disappointed me, but more than that, you've been very encouraging to me. You helped me grow as a writer, and you helped me connect with people that would help me through tough times. You strengthened my relationships. You helped me express myself. You boosted my self-esteem. You showed me that I'm not very funny. You listened to me while I ranted. You helped me come to several revelations. You've comforted me. Thanks, a lot. You've done a lot in a year! I'm impressed.
Let's do another year, shall we?
As for my faithful readers, especially those that have been with me since the beginning, thank you. Your support means so much.
God bless.
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Running the Race for Χριστος
Too late at night for me to be writing, considering I have been yawning for a good two hours now. (And, as we all found out from reading my 3:30 post, writing when I'm tired is an awful idea.) But I'm determined to write this. Please just deal with it. I'll do my best.
The running metaphor keeps popping up in my life. I like that I'm a runner because this metaphor makes sense to me. "What is this metaphor you speak of?" Behold, I shall tell you.
In 1 Corinthians 9:24, it says, "Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize."
More so, in Hebrews 12 it says, "Let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith."
So, we as Christians are running some metaphorical race, trying to reach the prize. And since we are fixing our eyes on Jesus, it can be easily assumed that the prize at the end of the race is Christ.
Let me simplify this (more for myself than for my lovely, intelligent readers, I'm sure). Life is a race. We're all running. Someday we will die when we get to the end of the race. Some of us will get there sooner than others. Some of us will win. Most of us will lose. Some of us will have a perfect union with Jesus in Heaven... some of us will not.
So, how do we fix our eyes on the prize? By pursuing Jesus with our whole selves, by loving him and learning about him and talking to him and mimicking him. By running with perseverance and not giving up on him or ourselves.
So, now that that's established, here's one thing that's been on my mind regarding this topic:
A while ago, someone presented this metaphor to me in a little bit different light than I had heard growing up. We're all running, okay. Honestly, more than one of us is going to get the prize. More than one person is going to Heaven. So we're running alongside other Christians. All of us should be running as hard and as fast as we can toward Jesus. Sometimes other people probably pass us, sometimes we pass other people. That's okay. Someone else might be going the same pace as us but are about half a mile ahead of us. Then maybe, just maybe, there's someone right next to you. Same place, same pace. Congratulations, God just gave you someone very special that you can spend the rest of your life with. Hypothetically/metaphorically. That is to say, when you get to that mile marker in your life when you're ready for marriage, you look to the right and to the left and see who's there. If no one is, God is saying "Not right now, just keep running. Look straight at me." but if there is someone there... you have someone to run alongside for the remainder of the race, encouraging each other and pushing each other to keep going. That's how you can know who's the one. (So we're clear, when said person talked to me about this, they were trying to relay "how to find a spouse" more so than "how to run the race".)
Although I am sort of running this race solo right now, I know it won't last forever. Maybe I'll catch up to someone. Or maybe someone else will catch up to me. We'll see. But it doesn't matter. What matters is the prize. Keeping my eyes fixed on Christ.
To get a little more recent with my thoughts on the running metaphor, I went to the indoor track at my college to run my now-regular three-mile run on Saturday. Only to find that it was packed full of people. The track was covered with people in chairs watching a volleyball game or something. There were a few treadmills open, but, after now having ran (run?) on a treadmill a total of one time in my life and decidedly hating it, I did not opt for stationary running. However, it was a pretty nice day out, so I decided not to give up and be lazy, but to actually venture out into the great unknown and run outside.
Went back up to my room to change into slightly warmer clothes, take my key off my keychain to put in my pocket, and map out a 3-mile run online. I decided on a nice little loop-around that would take me through the rich neighborhood part of town so I could admire the big, pretty houses.
I was running, it was pleasant, with a breeze, and the sun was shining. Then when I started coming back, I was going against the wind. It would be that way for the next approximately mile and a half. Oh, it was hard, and only got harder. By the end of my run, I was in a lot of physical pain (due to exertion, nothing to be concerned about for those of you that are nursing majors and physical therapists and mothers), but I was so close to the end that I wouldn't let myself quit. I made it, and I praised God (as I usually do after a good run) that he blessed me enough that I can do that sort of thing beyond any power or motivation of my own. Then, as I walked back to campus (as I had ran past it in order to go a full three miles), I started thinking about this metaphor of running the race for Christ again.
I had always thought of it like "YEAH! Run the race for Christ! Woooo!" and it being like a thrilling, adrenaline-filled, victorious thing. And while I felt proud of myself after this particular run, I was also in pain as I caught my breath and reflected on how hard it had been to finish. It was nice to be outside, but by the end, I was not thinking about the nice weather, the sunshine, or even the fact that I was outside. I was thinking about my body's pain, and finishing. Yes, I was thinking about the end. My eyes were fixed on it, and I would keep going, whatever the physical toll.
Somehow my thoughts brought my back to the memory of some painful sin I have committed. Fortunately, it probably won't affect anyone but me (and my relationship with God), but it's something I still feel shame and grief about, despite the full knowledge that I'm forgiven. It's something I'll have to deal with internally for a long time, maybe even the rest of my life. I just made the rest of the race a little bit harder.
But I'm going to keep running.
Sin will come your way. Pain and hardship will come your way. Life will not always be a pleasant jog on a warm spring day. It will be exerting, exhausting, and the only thing you will want more than to quit will be to finish. No, maybe you won't even want to finish. (When I ran again on Monday, my body was feeling very lazy and lethargic and throughout my whole run, I was so tired that all I wanted was for my hip or knee to start hurting again so I had a valid excuse to stop running.) But you know what? Persevere. Keep running. Fix your eyes on the prize. Fix your eyes on Jesus. If you do this, then whatever life throws at you, you will get the ultimate prize.
And now for a bit of humor:
God bless.
The running metaphor keeps popping up in my life. I like that I'm a runner because this metaphor makes sense to me. "What is this metaphor you speak of?" Behold, I shall tell you.
In 1 Corinthians 9:24, it says, "Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize."
More so, in Hebrews 12 it says, "Let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith."
So, we as Christians are running some metaphorical race, trying to reach the prize. And since we are fixing our eyes on Jesus, it can be easily assumed that the prize at the end of the race is Christ.
Let me simplify this (more for myself than for my lovely, intelligent readers, I'm sure). Life is a race. We're all running. Someday we will die when we get to the end of the race. Some of us will get there sooner than others. Some of us will win. Most of us will lose. Some of us will have a perfect union with Jesus in Heaven... some of us will not.
So, how do we fix our eyes on the prize? By pursuing Jesus with our whole selves, by loving him and learning about him and talking to him and mimicking him. By running with perseverance and not giving up on him or ourselves.
So, now that that's established, here's one thing that's been on my mind regarding this topic:
A while ago, someone presented this metaphor to me in a little bit different light than I had heard growing up. We're all running, okay. Honestly, more than one of us is going to get the prize. More than one person is going to Heaven. So we're running alongside other Christians. All of us should be running as hard and as fast as we can toward Jesus. Sometimes other people probably pass us, sometimes we pass other people. That's okay. Someone else might be going the same pace as us but are about half a mile ahead of us. Then maybe, just maybe, there's someone right next to you. Same place, same pace. Congratulations, God just gave you someone very special that you can spend the rest of your life with. Hypothetically/metaphorically. That is to say, when you get to that mile marker in your life when you're ready for marriage, you look to the right and to the left and see who's there. If no one is, God is saying "Not right now, just keep running. Look straight at me." but if there is someone there... you have someone to run alongside for the remainder of the race, encouraging each other and pushing each other to keep going. That's how you can know who's the one. (So we're clear, when said person talked to me about this, they were trying to relay "how to find a spouse" more so than "how to run the race".)
Although I am sort of running this race solo right now, I know it won't last forever. Maybe I'll catch up to someone. Or maybe someone else will catch up to me. We'll see. But it doesn't matter. What matters is the prize. Keeping my eyes fixed on Christ.
To get a little more recent with my thoughts on the running metaphor, I went to the indoor track at my college to run my now-regular three-mile run on Saturday. Only to find that it was packed full of people. The track was covered with people in chairs watching a volleyball game or something. There were a few treadmills open, but, after now having ran (run?) on a treadmill a total of one time in my life and decidedly hating it, I did not opt for stationary running. However, it was a pretty nice day out, so I decided not to give up and be lazy, but to actually venture out into the great unknown and run outside.
Went back up to my room to change into slightly warmer clothes, take my key off my keychain to put in my pocket, and map out a 3-mile run online. I decided on a nice little loop-around that would take me through the rich neighborhood part of town so I could admire the big, pretty houses.
I was running, it was pleasant, with a breeze, and the sun was shining. Then when I started coming back, I was going against the wind. It would be that way for the next approximately mile and a half. Oh, it was hard, and only got harder. By the end of my run, I was in a lot of physical pain (due to exertion, nothing to be concerned about for those of you that are nursing majors and physical therapists and mothers), but I was so close to the end that I wouldn't let myself quit. I made it, and I praised God (as I usually do after a good run) that he blessed me enough that I can do that sort of thing beyond any power or motivation of my own. Then, as I walked back to campus (as I had ran past it in order to go a full three miles), I started thinking about this metaphor of running the race for Christ again.
I had always thought of it like "YEAH! Run the race for Christ! Woooo!" and it being like a thrilling, adrenaline-filled, victorious thing. And while I felt proud of myself after this particular run, I was also in pain as I caught my breath and reflected on how hard it had been to finish. It was nice to be outside, but by the end, I was not thinking about the nice weather, the sunshine, or even the fact that I was outside. I was thinking about my body's pain, and finishing. Yes, I was thinking about the end. My eyes were fixed on it, and I would keep going, whatever the physical toll.
Somehow my thoughts brought my back to the memory of some painful sin I have committed. Fortunately, it probably won't affect anyone but me (and my relationship with God), but it's something I still feel shame and grief about, despite the full knowledge that I'm forgiven. It's something I'll have to deal with internally for a long time, maybe even the rest of my life. I just made the rest of the race a little bit harder.
But I'm going to keep running.
Sin will come your way. Pain and hardship will come your way. Life will not always be a pleasant jog on a warm spring day. It will be exerting, exhausting, and the only thing you will want more than to quit will be to finish. No, maybe you won't even want to finish. (When I ran again on Monday, my body was feeling very lazy and lethargic and throughout my whole run, I was so tired that all I wanted was for my hip or knee to start hurting again so I had a valid excuse to stop running.) But you know what? Persevere. Keep running. Fix your eyes on the prize. Fix your eyes on Jesus. If you do this, then whatever life throws at you, you will get the ultimate prize.
And now for a bit of humor:
God bless.
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Starting High School!
I was looking through some really old school documents on my computer and ran into an article and a poem that I wrote for my school newspaper when I was in 8th grade. They're dated May 6, 2006 and they're both about starting high school. Anyway, they made me chuckle, so enjoy.
HIGH SCHOOL (Now is your Cue to Run and Hide.)
Looking forward to new opportunies and adventures in high school? You’re not alone! Many eight graders can’t wait to get off to a fresh start next year as they progress from middle school to high school. Others, however, might be afraid or unsure. Perhaps you want to know whether you’ll make any friends or whether you will fit in. Maybe you’re scared of getting lost. For those of you who are afraid, I want you to think back to fifth grade. You were nervous about starting middle school then! See where you are now? You made it just fine! You learned your way around, made friends, adopted to the schedule, and maybe you even managed to get good grades and stay out of trouble. So, I’m sure that it will be the same thing, and from reference from high schoolers, it is. Of course it’s natural to be nervous, but keep your head held high and your faith in yourself, and no one will be able to wear you down. It might be hard, but together, all us eighth graders can make it next year with a smile on our faces.
My hands, they shake
As walk through the halls,
New faces all ‘round
Till near, a voice calls.
I hear someone yell
My name very loud.
I turn ‘round to see a
Familiar face in the crowd.
My friend joins my side,
And we talk about school.
How its going for us,
The boys that are cool.
Though some things are weird
Uneasy or strange,
I realize contentedly
Some things never change.
God bless.
HIGH SCHOOL (Now is your Cue to Run and Hide.)
Looking forward to new opportunies and adventures in high school? You’re not alone! Many eight graders can’t wait to get off to a fresh start next year as they progress from middle school to high school. Others, however, might be afraid or unsure. Perhaps you want to know whether you’ll make any friends or whether you will fit in. Maybe you’re scared of getting lost. For those of you who are afraid, I want you to think back to fifth grade. You were nervous about starting middle school then! See where you are now? You made it just fine! You learned your way around, made friends, adopted to the schedule, and maybe you even managed to get good grades and stay out of trouble. So, I’m sure that it will be the same thing, and from reference from high schoolers, it is. Of course it’s natural to be nervous, but keep your head held high and your faith in yourself, and no one will be able to wear you down. It might be hard, but together, all us eighth graders can make it next year with a smile on our faces.
My hands, they shake
As walk through the halls,
New faces all ‘round
Till near, a voice calls.
I hear someone yell
My name very loud.
I turn ‘round to see a
Familiar face in the crowd.
My friend joins my side,
And we talk about school.
How its going for us,
The boys that are cool.
Though some things are weird
Uneasy or strange,
I realize contentedly
Some things never change.
God bless.
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