Day Ninety Eight - Stupid Little Games

My feathers have been thoroughly ruffled by the childish games of a friend of mine. And by the sudden disappearance, and reappearance of another. I've already written a blog about you can leave and I will always take you back. 

Now it's time to write a blog about being a little less of a child in your relationships. Who is it exactly that treated you like that and somehow convinced you that it was the best way to treat others? Did it feel good to be judged according to an arbitrary list of rules? Was it nice having the someone you considered a close friend disappear when you needed them most? Is that what you want out of the people who claim to be your friends, and say they love you? 

Grow up. Voice your needs. If you're frustrated that I've cancelled on you, tell me so. It's okay to get upset, just like I have the right to get sick (and yea, I'm sick a lot and have a crappy immune system, sue me). Just be vocal. I want to know about your life and how it changes, if it changes suddenly or you change suddenly, then for heaven's sake, take the time to tell me, rather than simply disappear. I promise, I'll at the very least listen and try to understand. 

And people come and go, I realize I can't keep you all forever. We change. Our needs change. Our tastes change. Our locations change. And we have friends and we lose friends (sometimes honestly lose them, I have no idea what ever happened to Buddy... last I knew he was in Arizona but I heard rumors of Kansas...) and we hurt and get hurt. That's life. But if it were up to me, I'd keep as many of you as possible, especially my sparkly marshmallows, because no matter how much I change, or how much you change, kindred spirits we will ever be. And if there comes a day when we are no longer friends, either by philosophy or geography, just know that you are missed.

UNTIL that time, however, get your head on straight and stop acting like a 3rd grader with a list of who is your friend and who isn't and why. Accept your friends, and that they will make mistakes, and even hurt you unintentionally. Reacting by disappearing, or listing the broken rule, is not going to fix anything and is only going to serve to put you in the wrong, instead of them. Be an adult, understand that life gets in the way, and work around it. People who really care about each other will make it work, even time is a huge issue. Just ask the originally sparkly marshmallow. Just because I only get to spend quality time with him once every few months in no way lessens our friendship. Or my bestie that lives in St. Louis. I see her maybe twice a year, but we take the time to communicate rather constantly. 

I guess that's all I'm really asking. I want to be your friend, but in order for me to do that, I need you to honestly communicate what you expect, what you want, what you feel, and what you think. No list of rules can fit every friend you have, and saying nothing is no way to be a friend. Just... communicate. 

Day Ninety Seven - Nothing Good To Say

I'm not a big believer in that little montra, "if you have nothing good to say, better to say nothing at all." Sometimes there are things that are not good that need to be said. Today, however is not one of those times. All I have is complaints. So instead of ranting or worse, faking some enthusiasm for anything other than drugged sleep, I'd rather just say nothing at all. Have a wonderful night.

Day Ninety Six - All I Want To Say

All I want to say tonight is... well... this.

Because the world does not accept sparkly marshmallows, because to be one is a constant struggle. And yet the giggles alone make it entirely worth it.

Day Ninety Five - What I've Made

I dedicate this one to Erica.

This is just... me. Tonight. I don't have any plan for what is going to come out, I just wanted to talk about whats on my heart. I'm not looking for feedback, I'm not venting, I'm just getting some stuff off my chest. 

I am breathtakingly, heartbreakingly beautiful. I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror tonight and just stopped. Was that me? Surely there was a girl behind me (which would have been incredibly freaky due to the fact that I was in an incredibly small bathroom, but I digress) because I'm not that beautiful. But (thankfully) it was me. Just me. No make up. Rag rolled, green tipped hair pulled back into a pony tail. White shirt, green cardigan, jeans. Nothing special. And yet, I was lovely. I was incredibly lovely. I was really something to look at. And so I did, for a moment. I just stopped and looked. Thick, Czech eyebrows. A nose that I wish wasn't as bulbous as it is, but small enough to remain cute (and incredibly red due to the amount of tissue I've used for the past 3 days). Pink lips. Pink cheeks. Clear skin. Blue eyes with a ring of gold in the very center. Brown glasses. Long neck. Shapely clavicles. Small chest, thin waist. Proportional. 5'5. Me. And I slowly exhaled. That was me. And I am lovely. 

But that's just what's on the surface. Beneath is a heart that has been through... a lot. I've mourned the death of my dearly beloved (if not severely misunderstood) father. I've witnessed my cousin getting beaten by a once beloved uncle. I've pulled many a knife out of my back, some of which left deep scars on my heart. When I was 15 I discovered true love (the first day I held my first nephew) and knew that even though the only thing he could do for me was breathe, I would give my life for him in an instant. (Same holds true now even though sometimes he's a very uppity 8 year old.) I've rebuilt a relationship with my only brother that was so broken I used to cry myself to sleep because I thought he wanted a more beautiful sister, one that he could be proud of. I've adopted many, many more brothers since. (I'm looking at you, Bruce. And you, Marcus. And you, Titus. And you, Jason.) I've recovered from being a cutter. I've rediscovered my faith, and worked for it. I've somehow (through grace alone) remained a virgin. I've survived a number of panic attacks, a number of "should have been fatal" car accidents, and the Air Force super flu. I've come back (literally) from the dead. I survived the loss of the best friend I ever had in this world. And I have fought, I have raged, I have pushed through every single one of those to get to where I am now. And damn it all, it has made me lovely. 

Look at me, world. Look at me and see that there is beauty from pain. Two years ago, I was so deeply depressed I graduated college because my professors took pity on me and passed me despite the fact that I came to maybe one in three classes. I still owe them for that. Two years ago I couldn't stand to look in a mirror because I was so ashamed of the person looking back at me. Two years ago, I would start my Saturday mornings with a mug full of vodka because I needed it to get through the day. Two years ago, I cried myself to sleep most nights. Two years ago I was so angry most people couldn't stand to be around me because I radiated pain. Look now. LOOK at what I have made. LOOK at what I have done. 

Today, I am lovely. Today, I spend my days surrounded by good friends. Because I am loyal. No matter what happens I am on your side. No matter what you do I will support you. No matter how you change I will love you. I know who you are, and I trust you. If you ask me to, I will trust you blindly and without question. We will never owe each other, and I will do for you whatever you ask, and be thankful whenever you do the same for me. I will defend you to anyone. I will be your alibi if you ever get caught. I will help you bury the body and try not to ask questions. I will vouch for you when you list me as a reference. I will share the mundane with you; I will answer your phone call at 4am. I will always call you back. No matter where I move, or how close we are, I will never forget you. I am strong. You can cry to me, you can lean on me. I will listen, and will carry as much of your burden as you give to me. I will not let you go. I am fun. No, really. I am a blast to be around. I can take a Tuesday and make it extraordinary. I can take a cold boring night and make you kiss the stars, or make you laugh so hard you snort. I can calm you. That one, I don't fully understand, but I am a calming person. I am genuine. I don't lie or hide who I am; what you see is what you get, and I don't want you to lie about who you are. I want you to be you, so that I can love you for who you are. I am real. I cry, I sing (badly), I hurt, I rejoice. I have deep feelings, and emotions, and am not afraid to express them. I giggle at things other people find mundane. I rejoice in the little things. I bring sparkle to people's lives. I bring a life with me that I cannot take credit for, it is the Spirit within me.

And to you... and you know who you are if you ever read this... I fought for us. For years. Because we were worth fighting for. God healed me of my anger, and filled me with forgiveness. I forgive you for everything you did, and hope to God you forgave me too. I never let you go, I hid you deep in my heart, to a place that despair could not reach. I told everyone you were the greatest man I've ever known, and you went and proved me right. Like I always knew you would. I will never regret us, not one moment of us, not for one moment of my life. I wouldn't take it back for the world, I would never change one damned thing. Because having you, and losing you, were the best things that ever happened to me. If we had never met, I wouldn't be the woman I am today. And if we had never parted, I wouldn't be the woman I am today. I wish, oh how I pray, that you could see me now. Because I am so much more than I was. I am everything you'd ever need, and everything you'd want. And just because you don't want it, doesn't make it not true.

I am lovely. I am strong. I am full. I am domestic goddess. I am creative. I am a sparkly marshmallow. I am sweet. I am sassy. I am sarcastic. I am funny. I am real. I am genuine. I am true. I am growing. I am learning. I am seeking. I am loyal. I am loving. I am deep. I am brilliant. I am talented. I am loved. I am desirable, and desired. I am exactly who I was made to be, and nothing you can ever say, do, or not do, will ever change that. I am lovely. Whether or not you ever get a chance to realize it.

And I guess, perhaps, that's what changed today. Deep in my heart you may always be, I have ceased striving  to remove you because God knows that is a fruitless endeavor. But what I can control is that how you (may or may not because honestly, I have no idea what you think) see me is not how I will see me. I will see the truth of who I am, and take pride in what I have spent years making (to God be the glory and the credit) and continue on, with or without you. And I'm not going to wait for you, not a moment longer. There is just too much to do. I want to be a missionary, I want to change the world, I want to write books that change people, I want to die a martyr's death, I want to live each and every moment of this life to it's fullest. I want to create heaven on earth, at least in my own, by spending every second praising the Name Above All Names. I so longed (and truth be told still long) for you to join me in these. I long for you to see me now, I long for you to see who I have become, I long for you to tell me that I'm beautiful, that I am lovely in your sight. But with or without you telling me that, I know in my heart that I am lovely in His sight, and that's honestly, truly, really all that matters to me.

I have made Him proud, and that is now the singular goal in my life. I will still screw up, I will make mistakes, I will fall down, I will get dirty. I will run away, I will hide, I will believe lies, and I will stumble. Over and over and over again. But you know, you've managed, even in your absence, to help God teach me so many things. That when I run, He chases me down. When I get tired of running, He sits with me, and holds my hand. When I fall down, He lays down with me. I will never forget what He said to me, as I was laying down, exhausted, broken, and filthy. He said to me, "I would rather lay here with you, in the mud, in the dirt, than be away from you for a single moment." I've learned that the faster I run, and the more I close my eyes, and put my hands over my ears, the louder I hear Him speak, and the closer I am to coming home. I've learned that when He breaks me into a million pieces, it is not the end, but only the beginning of something wonderful. I have learned that the deeper my pain, the deeper my ability to be filled with joy. I have learned that my heart can love far past its own ability; that I can love in a way the world knows not. I can love beyond the grave, I can love beyond any human expectation. I have learned that both skin deep, and past my heart, into my very soul, that I am lovely.

Thank you. For everything. Losing you was the worst pain I have ever felt (sorry dad, but its true) and it is the thing I am most grateful for, for it was done by the loving hand of my Heavenly Father, whose will I now earnestly seek above my own, and it has made me into more than I ever dreamed I could be. I still, earnestly, with the depth of my heart, beg for your return. I want to see your face, just one more time, and tell you that I love you, and that I forgive you, and beg for your forgiveness. I long for your return back into my life to stay forever. But whatever His will, that is my will also. So even if I never see you again, my joy is complete. My life is complete. I am complete.

I said, earlier today, that whatever happened, it is well with my soul. And today certainly yielded me no hope. And yet, by the grace of God, it is well with my soul. I am at peace. I give you into His hands, and cease my striving. Blessed be our God, the sovereign of all things. I am at peace. 

Day Ninety Four - NyQuil

We all get sick. And when we are, certain things become more valuable than gold. Puffs with lotion. Vicks vapor rub. Nyquil. And none of that off brand stuff. No one wants scotties tissue when your nose is literally raw. Puffs or Kleenex! It must be! And if there is a generic vicks I don't even know about it because, well, its Vicks or nothing. And Nyquil. 

Have you seen that commercial where a bottle of Tylenol cold and flu (packaged to look incredibly similar to Nyquil) starts going over the list of symptoms that it supposedly helps and actually treats more than Nyquil? Every time I see that commercial I giggle. Why? No, the commercial in itself is not funny. What's funny is that the ad guys at Tylenol are morons. Everyone and their mother (save those poor ignorant folk at Tylenol) knows that no one buys Nyquil because it treats any symptoms. Sure, the cough suppressant is a nice touch. But I don't buy it for that. I buy it because it will knock me out. That's why everyone buys it. And the good ole people at Nyquil know that, and cater to us. We know what it is, we know what it does, and we want it.

And they sell it to us! For outrageously high prices because when we can't sleep, we don't care that it costs the down payment of a small european car, we just want it and we want it right f*ing now. And I still bless their CEO because you know, 7.99$ for about 7 nights sleep is damn well worth it. 

So thank you, brand name sick stuff, because you may be over priced but you do, indeed, make me feel a lot better. 

P.S. If you don't believe me, and say that Nyquil is sold for any other reason than to help you sleep, I dare you to try the non drowsy version, namely Dayquil, and see if it helps your symptoms one damn bit. Dayquil, I'm convinced, it a placebo to convince our boss we really are sick and should thusly go home, where we will take some Nyquil and sleep. 

Day Ninety Three - Words

I love words. I always have. They are fantastic. They are the main (and often sole) way I express my emotions. They are essential. And yet... there are so many of them that I do not full grasp the way I'd like to. I was thinking about it last night.

I've been doing a nightly bible reading (thank you, youversion) and after reading two gospels back to back (and currently working on a third) I find myself understanding things more and more, at least in the new testament. Though my understanding and comprehension of the incredibly complex meaning of "the kingdom of God" is now leaps and bounds ahead of where it was before I started (which, in case you were wondering, was none) it is nowhere near where I want it to be.

Same goes for the terms righteousness, holiness, Son of Man, and gospel or good news. I've grown up around most of those words, and they've been used so much that I thought I understood what they meant and just stopped seeking. But now I realize that I have no real grasp of what they mean, not only in connotation, but in consequence. 

Because how can I strive for righteousness if I'm not entirely sure what that is, or what it looks like in practical application? How can I be holy if I do not understand the consequence of holiness? How can I understand the words of my Lord when He calls Himself 'the Son of Man' and yet all I know about it is a blurb at the bottom of the page? How can I preach the gospel or the good news if I do not understand the consequence of my words, and the meaning of the gospel itself? 

In a world in where its very easy to google anything we don't understand (jfgi), to truly study something until we know it is a rarity. But I'm convinced of the worth of knowing the meanings of those words as well as I know my own name. 

Day Ninety Two - 3 Minute Increments

What if life were lived in 3 minute increments? Sometimes, 3 minutes takes forever (namely every time I heat water for my tea). I can go from my room, to the living room, type up an e-mail, and go back into the kitchen and I still have a minute fifty seconds. I swear, if I lived my whole life in the 3 minute increments of waiting for water to boil I could solve world hunger in a little under a week.

And yet at other times, I swear according to the clock it took me 3 minutes to blink. If I lived my whole life in that particular time frame, I'd be six feet under in a manner of hours.

I think the problem is often that I don't pay attention to the passing of time. And at twenty three, who does? But maybe if I did, it wouldn't slip through my fingers so easily.

It's just a thought during this Lenten time.

P.S. Adam, make fun of lent one more time, and I'm going to punch you. It actually means something to me.

Day Ninety One - Struttin'

Today, I went on a walk. I haven't gone on a walk in... well numbers are numbers. It's been a long time. That's not the point. The point remains that I haven't spent a great deal of time walking (I have a tendency to be extremely lazy at every given opportunity.) and so haven't really taken any time to think about walking. (I promise there is a point.) 

The point is this: my walk has changed. The way in which I walk, without ever giving it any conscious though, has changed. 

About a month ago I was told that an old friend of mine, "Was completely different. Even the way he carried himself was different. The change was extraordinary." I didn't really understand. I mean, did he fix his posture or what? I'm assuming he didn't shrink, so his stride should have remained the same. I didn't get it.

Until today. I walk differently. The way I carry myself is different. Though I've always had great posture, I was always incredibly withdrawn. I didn't want to make eye contact, my head was down, my stride was short and quick. Today, it was not. My stride was leisurely, confident. My head was up, I made eye contact. I am different. Noticeably different. 

As to what that means, I have no idea. I don't even think its incredibly significant. I just... wanted to tell someone. 

Day Ninety - A Sonnet For My Bestie

My best friend never reads this blog, but I couldn't find any peace until I wrote this for her. I hope one day she reads it. I hope one day she understands.

For Petey

When I was blind, you saw for me. When I

gave up, you fought for me. Every time I

cried my eyes dry, you sang for me. Don't sigh

now, my vision, my fighter, my song. My

sight has returned as yours has gone, be still, 

I will see for you. On the brink of all

you've known, I will pull you back, if you will

let me near. Take my hand. Dry your eyes. Call

and know that you are heard. Angel on earth,

have faith in the joy flowing from my 

eyes to my heart, reflecting all you're worth. 

Whole, free, lovely, and loved well, please try

to see the gift in loss, the good in pain,

the love in never again feeling shame. 

Day Eighty Nine - Screw You Cover Girl

As a woman in this country, though it has been said a thousand times, and I'm not going to beat a dead horse, but we are constantly surrounded by pressure to be skinnier, dressed in constantly changing and ever more expensive fashions, and have perfectly done make up and hair from the moment we wake up to the moment we go sleep. I have one word to say to those advertisers: FUCK OFF. 

I have no intention of getting any skinnier. In fact, I want to put on some weight. Muscle weight. I want bigger thighs because I want them to be able to run. I want bigger arms because I want them to be able to actually pull me up. 

I LOVE my jeans. LOVE. Because  I have, in some cases, spent years breaking them in. They fit perfectly. I love my sweatshirts. Especially the ones with the wholes. I love my ratty old tshirts. I love the shirts I've cut and tied. I love love love my clothes and have no desire to buy more that I don't need. Except maybe socks. Dammit they get me every time with socks. 

And I hate make up. I hate how it feels on my skin. I was blessed with a great complexion. Why would I mess with that? I have glasses to accent my eyes. I'll give you that I could probably use a little more pigment, but take that up with me during the summer. 

Look the point of all of this is simply that I'm determined to express my femininity in a way that doesn't require damaging my skin, starving myself, or spending gobs of money I don't have. Today: I felt gorgeous because I put my clothes on in a way I liked, had rag rolled my hair the night before, and used some bobby pins. It took minimal effort and even better, very little time. I'm not saying rebel to the point of dreadlocks, washing your hair is something the marketing people have right, you should do that. But the only thing you need to express you is you. So... you've already got everything you need. 

Day Eighty Eight - There Is Never A Reason To Wait

There are some things in life that I've always wanted to do, and today, on the second anniversary of my father's death, I will no longer wait to do them. I'm going to dye the tips of my hair green. Because I want to. Because I've always wanted to and never have. Because there was always going to be a better time. But there is no better time. The only time is now. 

All the silly things I've always wanted to do, dye my hair a ridiculous color, work at a store just for the employee discount, go to an apple orchard in the fall, dare to think of a life in which I don't live with my mother and want to decorate my own home, learn how to express my femininity the way I desire and not the way advertising tells me to, wear things that might make people look at me like I'm a deranged kindergartener. I'm so tired of caring what anyone thinks. It took me years to be comfortable in my own skin. But now is not the time for comfortable. Now is the time for more learning. How do I want to live my life? And then, of course, go and do it. 

Which ties neatly into the other thing on my mind. The prayer that this world continue to dim. How many times have I been stopped from doing something because of social convention, how many times have I cared what other people think? Let all of that dim, let my eyes be set only to the heavens. Let me life be lived upward, may His hand alone lead me forward. Let it all become dim. Because none of it matters. 

And let me not become preachy or haughty. I am so far from all that I want, so far from where my heart is led. I fight the brat all the time and lose more often than I'd like to admit. But there were certain things I was promised, and those are things I cling to. Not any gifts of the future. No, only that He will not give up on me, and will complete His work. That promise is the most precious. 

Day Eighty Seven - When Yes Leads You To A Graveyard

This one is going to be weird so just try and follow me.

I have a friend. We'll call him Buddy. Buddy has a problem with the word yes, in the same way other people have a problem with the word no. Buddy struggles to say yes. Its always easier to say no. Buddy struggles to find himself, and what he wants in life, because every time change comes knocking at his door, he has a hundred reasons to say no. 

But every once in a while, Buddy says yes. Like today. Today, Buddy said yes. I asked him to go on a special trip with me. Tomorrow is the second anniversary of my dad's death. And I miss my dad more than I could possibly express. And Buddy's mom died when he was young, so he's sort of the one person in my life that really gets it. He said yes to my request to come to the graveyard with me. But he was glad he did, as was I. We got to have one of our moments together. When we just sit and understand each other perfectly in that moment. 

And while I was there, it made me think of what I will say yes to in the future. About a year ago, the idea of martyrdom entered my mind. For months it merely stewed. I've read the stories. They're gruesome and painful. But glorious in their own way. As a sheltered little girl from Iowa, I couldn't understand the growing desire in my heart for that sort of ending. Surely I couldn't comprehend the sacrifice behind it. Surely I couldn't understand all that I'd be giving up. Surely I couldn't understand the life, nor death, of a martyr. And still the desire grew. Its grows even now. 

The desire in my heart is for martyrdom. It has become my earnest prayer. I long for it. That is what I want out of my life. I desire to die a martyr. And once I acknowledged that, it all started to make much more sense. Perhaps I cannot yet understand all that I will give up, but I know that the gain is worth it. And that is all that matters.

God wants us to say yes to Him each day, in a thousand small ways. He doesn't always speak through a burning bush. He often speaks as a gentle whisper. But He always asks that we say Yes to whatever He asks us to do. Some very big, life changing 'yes's'. Most small steps, small decisions, that inch us closer to Him. But even if my life is comprised of only small steps, one of those yes's will indeed lead me to a graveyard. 

And though it may seem morbid, I assure you it is not, but that thought fills me with joy. Not that I long to die, quite the opposite, I long to fill however long my life may be with as much life as possible. There is so much I want to do. So many people to love, so many stories to tell, so much more that I want to do than I could ever fit into one, or a hundred, lifetimes. But to die for the name of my God is to me a more beautiful thought than to live to see a million sunrises. Saying 'yes' to God will take you a hundred different places, ninety-nine of which I bet you'd never thought you'd see. But each and every one of them will be worth whatever sacrifice is asked. Even if it is a graveyard. 

Day Eighty Six - Life After Television

The binge, it seems, has ended. It could probably go on for weeks, but at the second available (I ignored the first one cause I was in the middle of a quest) weakening of desire, I figured, lets just do it. But then I realized, like I had with all of my previous addictions (did I mention I have a highly addictive personality?) that the best way to fight them is to replace them. Not necessarily with another addiction, merely with another activity. When I quit smoking, I started crocheting. For hours each day. It kept my hands busy and kept me inside, away from outside, which is where the smoking occurred. When I quit drinking... well no that one was a hell of a lot easier cause I just didn't want to do it anymore. Point remains. When I'm trying to *mostly* give up TV (Grey's and Fringe and Hell's Kitchen are just damn good television, okay? Ooh and Downton Abby. Everyone knows that British TV doesn't even count as TV.), we're talking about a few hours each day that need to be diverted. If I'm still just 'sitting' then the problem isn't going to go away.

Here's where you come in, dear friends. Help a girl out. I've only go so many ideas.

Books. I have at least 10 that I want to read.
When it warms up a bit: Running. I used to love it, I'm going to again.
Hairstyles. My hair is getting ridiculously long and I want to learn different ways to do it.
Indoor Herb Gardens. Damn you Pinterest.
Playing with images/inspirational words on photoshop.
Bible studies.
Poetry. Reading and writing. Its been ages since I wrote poetry and I'm craving it.
Make my house immaculate.

So... if you know me well, then help me with my interests. If you don't, share some of yours. Just remember: no video games, or TV. And I'm not banning them, I just hate how much time they take up in my life. I want to cut it down to less than 5 hours a week (not counting the news) for both activities combined.

That being said, Zelda is still my hero and if there is once exception to this rule it is Zelda on the gamecube. Cause sometimes a weekend needs to be spent playing Ocarina of Time. But sometimes it needs to be spent with a cup of tea and some Jane Austen. Or even better, some Mark Driscoll. Or help me find an author I haven't discovered yet, or an activity I must try. Aaaand go!

Day Eighty Five - Insta-Life Decisions

I cannot count the number of times I've read/heard something along the lines of, "And then this HUGE thing happened/there was this epiphany/everything suddenly made sense/everything changed and from that day on everything was different."

I'm not denying the fact that sometimes life changes happen suddenly. But 99% of the time I'm really comfortable throwing down the bullshit card. It may have occurred to them all of the sudden but the actual change took time. And there were slip ups. And it settled. And became normal.

I'm not discouraged when it takes a little time for my life to change as a change settles itself into my mind. And I don't want you to be either.

Day Eighty Four - I am Mardi Gras

I've never liked the idea of Mardi Gras. I mean it came about because of a holy holiday. Lent. I like lent. I like the idea of lent. But now, few remember lent, and Mardi Gras has become its own holiday of gluttony.

But here's the thing: I am Mardi Gras. Anytime I want to give something up, I inevitably gorge myself on whatever it is I want to give up.

When I wanted to quit smoking - I smoked and smoked until I got sick and THEN gave it up.

When I wanted to quit drinking - I gave it a good bye binge.

And now, when I want to really cut back both my video game usage and TV watching I find myself gorging on it. I can't get enough. I must watch ALL THE TV! And play ALL THE GAMES!

Is it just me? Anyone else do this? Anyone beat this in the past? I mean, it seems to work in a weird way. I don't smoke and I don't drink anymore. I just... am not quite ready. Give me another few days of gorging and then maybe it'll be easier.

*sigh* Will I ever be good at self control?

Day Eighty Three - God In A Box

I've been accusing people of putting God in a box for YEARS. It's one of my biggest pet peeves. Who is anyone to tell God what He can and cannot do? How He can and cannot accomplish His purposes? The arrogance involved in that is mind blowing.

And yet I realized I've been guilty of the same thing. And perhaps it isn't always motivated by arrogance, but by small faith. Until recently, it was only head knowledge (not heart knowledge) that God was actually in control, and that His will was bent to my cries. Because He placed the desires in my heart, our wills are one.

How transparent it all seems now... I sort of feel like I'm in the matrix. I can see what is behind everything. And it's all Him. How could I not see it before? How could I not see the beauty of it? The art? How could I not see the intricacy? How could I not perceive all the moving parts? How could I not see the mover? When all He does all day is woo me?

Lord, forgive me for my unbelief. You can walk on water, or split it. You can create the storm or cease it. You can move a man with a whale, you can destroy a town with fire from the sky. You can do all things, and You love me.

You were never in the box, only I was. Reach in, bring me out. There is just so much world on the other side of this box. And with You by my side, anything is possible. Thank you, Lord. Not only have You saved me from death, You have saved me from myself. From leading a mediocre life. God, never let me crawl back into the smallness of my own expectations, but let me fly on the bigness of Yours.

Amen.

Day Eighty Two - 9:00am Epiphany Right On Time

Good morning, tea. Good morning, snow. Good morning leftover apple turnover. Good morning scarf in my cold apartment. Good morning epiphany.

I stress waaaaay too much. About things that honestly don't matter. Not in the grand scheme of things. Little things consume my whole mind for the whole day. From rising to sleeping, I am constantly occupied by SHIT THAT DOESN'T MATTER. And I've had enough. My poor, worried heart has had enough.

Granted, nothing is deserving of my stress. Who am I to think my stress matters? Who am I to think that I can somehow accomplish anything on my own? I digress. The point is that the TRULY important hasn't even gotten my attention. I've been coasting on 'daily life' and going nowhere. Screw this.

Lord let my feet hit the ground running. There is much for me to do if I will just let go of my desire to be 'normal' and let go of this average American life and embrace that there is so much more than this. That there is so much more beneath the surface. There are people to love and people to serve and a whole life of fulfillment that has nothing to do with big screens and everything to do with bent knees. In silent surrender is there life to be found! In careful study! In whimsical wanderings.

Enough. Life is too short to be spent idly watching. It is too short to be spent doing anything but soaking it all in. I'm aware I cannot be awake every moment, or even fully aware, but I can try. I've wasted too much of my life on things that never mattered. No more. No more.

Join me in this. Put the remote down. Pick up a book that is edifying to your soul. Why do we insist on living as if time isn't precious? As if people don't matter as much as a program? As if we will never die? As if there isn't a goal?

Oh hey look... There is a Piper book. And a high lighter. Guess I know what I'm going to be doing today. :)

Day Eighty One - Be Still

I suck at being still. And I haven't had peace in days. So I did this for me. I needed this. Maybe when you need it, it'll be here for you to read as well.

Psalm 4:8

In peace I will both lie down and sleep;

for you alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety.

Psalm 85:8

Let me hear what God the Lord will speak,

for he will speak peace to his people, to his saints;

but let them not turn back to folly.

Isaiah 26:3

You keep him in perfect peace

whose mind is stayed on you,

because he trusts in you.

Isaiah 26:12

O Lord, you will ordain peace for us,

for you have indeed done for us all our works.

Isaiah 32:17

And the effect of righteousness will be peace,

and the result of righteousness, quietness and trust forever.

Isaiah 54:10

For the mountains may depart

and the hills be removed,

but my steadfast love shall not depart from you,

and my covenant of peace shall not be removed,”

says the Lord, who has compassion on you.

Isaiah 54:13

All your children shall be taught by the Lord,

and great shall be the peace of your children.

John 14:27

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts

 be troubled, neither let them be afraid.

John 16:33

I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But

 take heart; I have overcome the world.”

Romans 8:6

For to set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace.

Romans 15:13

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you

 may abound in hope.

1 Corinthians 14:33

For God is not a God of confusion but of peace.

Philippians 4:7

And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ 

Jesus.

Colossians 3:15

And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. And be 

thankful.

1 Thessalonians 5:23

Now may the God of peace himself sanctify you completely, and may your whole spirit and soul and body 

be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.

James 3:18

And a harvest of righteousness is sown in peace by those who make peace.

Jude 1:2

May mercy, peace, and love be multiplied to you.

Day Eighty - Timestamp

I've talked about how I get to be a witness. Now, I ask you to join me in this. I'm writing this for its timestamp, and so that you all can join me that it was indeed written on this day. This letter is written in code, it is not to be understood. I get to use this one day to use this blog, not for you, or for me, but for a friend who will read it in around 6 months.

Dear Alex,

What if I were to tell you that there is a man waiting for you that is everything you've ever wanted? What if I were to tell you that God placed your face on his heart and he loved you before he knew your name? What if I were to tell you that from the moment he saw your face in his heart, that he stayed faithful to you and only you? That he prayed for you every day, and could hardly resist the urge to drive to you, to woo you, and to start loving you for the rest of his life?

What if I were to tell you that he would never abuse you, neglect you, or belittle you? What if I were to tell you that he fell in love with your voice when God put your laugh in his ear? What if I were to tell you that he's perfect for you, and you are perfect for him, and all you have to do is dance with him? Yup. That guy. In the blue plaid. Yes, the one with the tattoos. The one who hasn't taken his eyes off of you for two days. That guy loves you because you are so special God told him about you. Six months ago. And he's been waiting for you ever since.

Give him a chance, Alex. Please? For me? Look at the date on this. And trust me. Now go dance with the boy and give me an update when I get back. Oh also: don't wait for the other shoe to drop on this one, it won't. I've known him for a very long time, he is everything I ever wanted for you. And you for him. Accept the sappy that lives inside you and accept that you're his princess.

Lastly, he has a gift too. Care to guess what it is? ;)

Sincerely,

MRST

Day Seventy Nine - 3 Years Later

Sometimes, certain things don't make sense for years. For years my mom has been telling me a verse, "But Mary treasured up all these things, pondering them in her heart." Luke 2:19. And for years I haven't understood it. Until today. Today, it clicked. Today, it made perfect sense. After 3 years of bouncing around my head, it finally found a home. 

And now, now I need to take a while and ponder these things in my heart.  

Is there anything you need to ponder that you've been putting off? Never forget, life is a gift. Old age is a gift many are denied. Don't waste yours with procrastination. 

Day Seventy Eight - I Love You So Much But Not Like That

If I tried to describe in any detail the amazingness of the day I have spent with Bruce (as previously mentioned) was, I wouldn't even come close. There are no words for that, and will probably spend at least 100 days (not consecutively mind you) about stuff that he and I talked about/did today. But there is one aspect of today that I wanted to share with you.

I am completely and totally in love with Bruce. 100%. I love every single thing about him. From his toes to the top of his head. My heart is wrapped around him like a protective shield. He is one of the most important men in my life. But my love for him is the most pure, innocent thing that I have ever done. He is my brother, and there is no getting around it. The though of anything else doesn't churn my stomach only for the fact that it literally can't enter my head. It is impossible.

In our society, that kind of love is mocked and ridiculed, if not believed to be a fairy tale. I cannot tell you how many times I've heard, "A guy and a girl cannot be platonic friends without one or the other wanting to be more than friends." Bruce is my proof. I love Bruce, and Bruce loves me, but you can ask him, although he says I'm an attractive woman, the thought of kissing me makes Bruce want to wretch. Not because I'm disgusting, because he's my brother. My very, very straight brother.

I just want to encourage this type of love. Its wonderful, for both of us. He's one of my best friends and we can talk about everything openly and honestly because NEITHER of us have any sort of agenda. We just love each other. If you have someone like that, cherish them. If you don't, don't turn it away when it comes. Bruce has given me more than I could have ever asked for, but I'd have never known that if I had insisted romantic or nothing. Instead, we took each other as we were, and something beautiful happened. It's not impossible. So go find the unicorn that is the platonic relationship.

Day Seventy Seven - Nothing and Everything

That's where I am today. Nothing is wrong and everything is. It was a great day and a horrible one. I'm hungry but I'm not. I'm tired but I'm not. Gaming can't even keep my attention. I've washed every dish in the house because my frustrations needed an out let. I'm full but I'm empty. I drank my supper because I'm exhausted. I want to be alone but I wish I had someone here. Today is nothing but a contradiction. And it's frustrating. 

But one thing is still appetizing. One thing is keeping this smile on my face. I want to go read my bible and spend time with my God. He can always keep my attention. And then I'm going to go to sleep and wake up and dammit I'm gonna try again tomorrow to have a better day. 

Because not stopping... not giving up... not throwing my hands in the air... that's all I've got today. And you do it too. Tomorrow will be better. And when it is, you will post something on Facebook to entertain me. Just so we're clear.

Day Seventy Six - Perfection

I've always wanted to be perfect. At something. At anything. At everything. And I've never been perfect for one second of one day. In my twisted little head, that's a lot of failure. But I've slowly gotten over that as I've grown up. I've realized that perfection doesn't exist and being pretty damn good will have to suffice. And some things I even have to settle for decent. I'm a pretty damn good daughter, but only a decent Christian. I've swallowed these truths, and nurse my poor wounded ego that at least I'm not a total failure.

And then there are days like today that feel like total failures. Failure just seemed to be lurking around every corner. It's amazing how missing one e-mail out of hundreds and I suddenly look like a totally unorganized idiot. I usually rock at my job, I take pride in being the best at it, and today I royally sucked and there is not a damn thing I can do about it. I don't even want to go to bed, because when I do, next thing I know it'll be morning and I'll have to try again and I'm scared it'll be another day full of failure. 

But here's the thing: I realize that attitude is ridiculous. I shouldn't be cowering and trying to hide in my own little corner. I've made a few mistakes. But I've learned from them. I won't be repeating them anytime soon. And that's the thing, whether it's the Christian analogy of 'walking' or the life analogy for it, you don't come out of the womb walking. I'm still relatively new at this, life and my job, and it's going to take some time before I've got it all figured out. And getting frustrated at myself isn't going to help. Sure, I'd like to sit down and cry, but it's better if I just get back up and keep trying. Because if there is something that has sunk in during my 23 years on earth it's this: the only person expecting me to be perfect is me. 

So here's to accepting that I'm not perfect, and that no one expects me to be. Here's to accepting that I am doing the best I can, and that involves learning from shitty days. Here's to going to bed, so that I can face another tomorrow, even if it ends up sucking just as badly as today. Because it won't always suck. In fact, chances are tomorrow might be quite nice. But I'll never know if I'm not ready to face it. 

And for me, the only way to get ready is to let down my guard, my fear or being wrong, of being imperfect, of being less than awesome, and lay down my inability at God's feet. My frustration for things that are out of my control can only be taken away when I ask someone, the only One who can help, to help me. The only way to prepare for tomorrow is to give it to God today and know that He'll meet me there, and that together, we'll get through it. 

That being said I'd really like to go back to being awesome again soon. 

Day Seventy Five - Mom, I love you.

I could sit and write lists about how much and why I love my mother until the end of time. And in the next 925 days probably will. But not today. Today, I have one single, simple story to tell you.

As any of you that read yesterday's post, it was a rough night. Today wasn't much better, but today was recovery. Every single muscle in my body is still aching. I didn't sleep at all, just tossed and turned for hours. I woke up, mostly, around 7:30 as my mom was leaving the house, and promptly fell into the only decent half an hour of sleep I got all night, in which I had a dream that she had walked right back into the house and said, "You know what, I decided to take a sick day and stay home with you."

Let me tell you, I was elated. I was so comforted that she would be home with me all day. Her presence and company are wonderful aids to any ill. I was so disappointed when I woke up it was all I could do not to cry. Whoever your person is, whether it be mom or sister or friend or brother, take the time to let them know. Especially if you're a man and struggle with that stuff. Just do it. Cause I know I won't get to have my mom around my whole life, at least for her sake I hope not. And I wouldn't want her to doubt for a second that she was cherished every minute I have her near me.

Day Seventy Four - Pressure vs. Stress

I suffer from panic attacks. I have a prescription but almost never take it unless I absolutely have to because I loathe it. It's effective, but ultimately leaves me like a zombie, because it's a numbing agent. When I take my meds (only to be taken to prevent panic attacks) I can't feel anything for the next 8 hours. Neither stress nor excitement. I use so little of the stuff I go through a bottle of 30 pills about once a year. So I usually try to fight through them. (And no, I can't just avoid stressful situations because not all stress triggers them. In fact, most times, God only knows what triggers them.) And with the smaller ones, I succeed in beating them without medication. But every once in a while I get SLAMMED by one, and when those babies show up, if I don't take my pills it will take me almost a day to fully recover. Today I got one of those, and didn't have my meds. I've been stubborn and refused to get them refilled. So I had to suffer through the whole damn thing. It sucks. There are no words for how much it sucks. It's not always a normal 'anxiety' attack either, they don't always feel like heart attacks like they do in most of the movies and literature. I was standing in the kitchen (making delicious pre-game food) when all of the sudden my ears were full, I got tunnel vision, and I had to sit down before I fainted outright. Ten seconds later I was bent over the toilet throwing up a rather delicious brunch. Sometimes my muscles begin to lock up, sometimes my breathing gets really shallow. Most times my body starts to not regulate its own heat very well and so I start to get chills followed immediately by fevers and back again. My stomach hurts and twists, my breathing becomes shallow and rapid, my teeth and hands begin to shake. The headache starts slow but lasts forever. It SUCKS. 

And what's worse, it is a bodily reaction ONLY. My body is in agony, it hurts to move and breathe and I can't stop shaking, but that is not reflective of my mood. My mood is very much at peace, for all is well. I prayed at the beginning of my attack, and have been awash with happiness, calm, joy, and sheer contentment. But I couldn't even accurately reflect my playful mood in my humor, as my voice would not stop shaking, nor could I give any real emphasis to my words. I am mostly a quiet monotone at the moment. I admit, my mental capacity is mildly reduced by it, making it hard to focus and think (sorry about the rambling in this blog, this thing isn't over). I may be at the mercy of my body right now, but my soul is not. My soul is as content as if the Pats had won and there was snow outside. Because the flesh doesn't have control when all is well, so it doesn't have control when all is not. I digress.

The point of this blog is simple: most people assume that because I suffer from panic attacks, that I cannot handle any 'stressful' situations. But they neglect to understand the difference between pressure and stress, and so fear to put me under strict deadlines, or worry about giving me too many responsibilities. But I don't have any issues with pressure. Out of pressure I create diamonds. I can work under pressure the same way any other person can, I may even be better than most with it. I can and will accomplish everything I set my mind to, and meet every deadline placed in front of me. 

But stress, to me, is the opposite of pressure. Pressure bears down on me, focusing and pushing me. Stress pulls me in multiple directions. Pressure means I have a limited time to do something. Stress means I don't know what to do. And that's when I have a greater tendency to come undone. 

Even that isn't as clear a distinction as I'd like, as it tends to imply I'm not great at problem solving, when I am. There is a reason I really loved algebra as a kid. I like puzzles. I enjoy the act of 'mulling'. I enjoy research. I enjoy scenarios and options. But I can't find a better description than that at the moment.

Yes, I have some limitations. I have a small pill that I need to take once every few weeks. I handle stress differently than most people, and sometimes need a little help, or a few more hours than most people. But dammit I can handle anything life throws at me. Don't think otherwise for a single second.

Day Seventy Three - Screw You Weather People

1) I'm curious, do you guys just roll the dice? Or throw a dart at a spinning board? Because you guys are right about as often as the house loses at roulette. Those little 'interactive maps' you make those, don't you? That's not a picture of what has happened, or what will, its just a horrible little game that you haven't explained to the rest of us.

2) ARE YOU MENTALLY HANDICAPPED?! I don't know about the rest of you, but our weather people here in Iowa are obsessed with being grossly ignorant of the needs of the community. I often times scream at them through the TV. Usually, something like this, "Listen up, you brainless dipshits. I'm not sure what form of stupid has invaded and infested in your abnormally small brain but here in IOWA it is a BAD thing if our winter is SO mild that the trees start budding in January. Because its means they're ALL GOING TO DIE or at least be severely injured come spring. Speaking of spring, do you realize that because we're getting almost no snow there will be almost no water running into the ground so we're going to start the planting season off with a drought!? But you keep celebrating that 'jacket weather' you INCREDIBLY DENSE ASSWIPES."

3) You build up my hope with your ugly faces twisted into something akin to 'omg, actual weather!?' when you tell me it's going to snow. And then smash it the very next day when I look out my window to 'ugly ass dead brown stuff'. And then, to add insult to injury, YOU'RE SMUG ABOUT HOW WRONG YOU WERE. 

Screw you, weather people. If I ever see you in public I will question your intelligence. The only acceptable answer is that you're paid to say that dumb 'its 50 in January! There won't be any negative consequences for that, right?' stuff. At which point I will respond, "You aren't paid enough. Go get your dignity and your balls out of the corporate jar before you become permanently perky and mentally challenged." Seriously. Is that really what you wanted to do when you were a little kid? ...Yea, me neither. In fact, I don't think most people wanted to be an object of public ridicule. 

Day Seventy Two - Routine and Silence

Oh. My. Heavens.

Internet, how I have missed you! I almost got teary eyed when I had my usual six tabs up and running at the same time. I had limited internet at my brother's, but just enough to send work e-mails. Now, now I have Netflix back. And pinterest! And facebook! All at the same time!

And silence. Glorious silence! The only sound in my house in the early morning is that of coffee dripping and eggs being fried. That is how one wakes up. At least when one is single. There is no need to wake up to, "MOOOOOOOOOM! JT TOOK MY BLANKET AND WON'T GIVE IT BACK!" until you have committed yourself to marriage and popped that thing out. Then you deserve it. Me? I get coffee and eggs. And silence. And the news on volume level 5 and I can still hear it because its quiet.

I loved my time away, I loved to see my nieces and nephews and cuddle on them (especially the older ones who do not like Aunt kisses or hugs anymore and so I have to chase and tackle them). I loved being able to talk to my sister in law for literal days. But I can't say it isn't nice to be home. Back to my living room, back to my job, back to my mugs and my tea and my bed and my mythbusters and my bible and my shower. (Showers made for tall people...no.) I like things my way. Even just being on my lap top, able to finally focus on work felt good.

Routine and silence, while you may not be my lovers forever, you are for now, and I promise, until the day we part ways, which I doubt will be ever for I will always love you, though I may love someone else more, I promise I will not take you for granted and will thank the good God in heaven for giving you to me.

Oh and also: IT'S SNOWING! Tomorrow I will wake up to a world that looks EXACTLY like a sparkling marshmallow. What a brilliant way to start a Saturday.

Day Seventy One - You too

To the kids I can say, "Do you know how much I love you?" and they say, "Yes, Auntie Val." and I said, "How much do I love you?" And they say, "More than I can imagine." I've taught them well. Each and every one knows that they're the most important thing in my world. Because it's true. I love each and every one like they were my only one.

My only brother, on the other hand... "Hey. I love you." I tell him as he's going to work, as his wife and I are chatting. "Ya. You too." He says and ducks out the door. His kids know that I love them, but I doubt my brother has a clue how much I love him.

Be you brother, father, friend, or lover - "You too" is not an acceptable answer for a girl who says, "I love you." EVER. Three little words guys. I know my brother loves me. Its in his genetic code. He has to. Especially since I've never really done anything to deserve not being loved. And with family, if you don't do anything, its sort of automatic. I loved him when he was a jerk. He can love me when I'm being as normal as I get.

What makes you guys do that? Why is it so hard to express affection? Especially when we express ours first? "Hey, I love you." Do you somehow think that if you say, "I love you too," that I'm going to somehow reject that? Do you think I'm going to come back with, "Just kidding! Oh man! I got you!" Seriously? Pretty sure no one has used that line except on their fifth grade crush. I mean really, what's the worst that could happen? I'm your sister. Just say it. Because although I'm your sister, I'm also a girl and for the most part - we NEED to hear it.

SO SAY IT. I don't understand what the hold up is. If you feel it, or even if its simply true, then say it. Tell me you love me. Tell me I'm pretty, I don't care if its a lie, you're my brother, I need to hear it from you. Especially now that dad is gone.

So tell us, please. Tell me please. Men, say the words. What's the worst that could happen?

Day Seventy - Decibel Level

Holy noise batman. From 5:30 am when Rachel wakes up and crawls out of bed to have her meeting with Nathan in the hallway, to 8:00pm when Joey finally goes to sleep, the noise level here is insane. It is constant too.  It doesn't really ebb and flow, it just stays in the obnoxious level for most of the day.

Don't get me wrong. It's not fit throwing and yelling that raise the noise level to deafening, it's usually laughter and playful 'I'm being chased' screams. And Joey in his bouncer. It's so full of joy, and yet I find myself battling a headache. Then again, going from being home alone most days to suddenly being in house with 8 other people, 6 of whom are under the age of 9 is a little startling. There was no wading into this particular pool, I was suddenly underwater. By the time I have a family of my own, hopefully I will be able to slowly wade into the deafening noise a little slower.

It's strange. At home, I always keep something running in the background because I cannot concentrate in total silence for long. And yet here, the only time I can concentrate at all is when its silent. Poor work, you will have to wait for another day. Oh well.

Perhaps the noise will somehow help the burn out that is starting to set into my bones.

Well, at the very least, having Sarah cuddle with me does. Such loud things can come out of her mouth. And yet when she cuddles she is silent against your chest. Touch can express so much without words. She knows I love her, not because I tell her, but because I hold her. Because I listen to her. Because I laugh with her. Because I join into the noise of her life.

Is that my new definition of love? Joining the noise of another's life?

Day Sixty Nine - 2:30am

I went to my brother's this week. I needed a break. Work was burning me out. I figured a few days of spotty internet would help.

What I wasn't expecting was how 'at sea' I would feel. My brother recently converted to Christianity. I call him a convert mostly because he belong to the church of 'I don't give a shit you religious nut bags' for a solid 28 years. Now that he's a believer with me, our relationship has a strange new dynamic. I'm also one of his closest friends, which is weird for me, because he is definitely not one of mine. But that's my brother. He was never much for friends.

But there are things I really never plan on talking to my brother about. Believer or not, he'd think the Rabbit Hole made me insane and that sparkly marshmallows embodies everything he hates about humanity. So I try to keep the conversation where he's comfortable, but sometimes it slips away from me.

And then I toss and turn at 2:30am wondering what the influences of my words will be. If he still sees me as a teenage child or a full adult. If he has any indication all that I see, or know. If he even cares. Will my words build him up, or will they confuse him? Why didn't I spend days in prayer about it?

I long for a deep relationship with my brother, but I doubt it'll ever be that way. Though, nothing is impossible through Christ. I've watched Jesus turn him from a real dbag into a decent brother in two years. In a decade, maybe I'll have the brother I've always wanted.

I just wish I knew how to be the sister he's always wanted.