Adventures at Harding

Harding Place Update

2011-12-04T21:07:00.002-06:00

I realized this weekend that I have not ever written out any of the things that I have experienced while living at Harding Place this semester! I've been holding out on you. I'm so sorry! Here are some highlights:

Each morning when I walk down the stairs to leave for school, the sweet ladies are lined up outside the dining room with their walkers waiting to go in for breakfast. I have to leave a few minutes early so that I can chat with them before I go. They sure do love to chat with us!
Obviously, I love everyone that lives here, but I've gotten to know some of the ladies better than others. My friends are Nellie, Jean, Betty, Becha, Katherine, another Betty, Nancy, and Annette. They are SO FUNNY! Every time I walk in the door, Jean looks at me and says something along the lines of, "well, look who's here!". They get so excited to see me every time. It is so precious.
Last Wednesday was the November birthday party. I went, of course, because it was Betty and Nellie's birthday month. We had cake and chatted with them for a while. I got pictures with the birthday girls :) Jean and Nellie told us that in one of their resident's meetings, they told them that boys weren't allowed to come upstairs to our rooms. We explained that boys aren't allowed up in the dorms either. Sometimes, Jean just says the absolute funniest things. She started talking about how "we don't want no hanky panky goin on up there! I don't want to hear no bed springs creakin when I walk down the hall!!" I was ROLLING. She's hilarious!!!
I try to eat lunch with them every Sunday. One Sunday, I was sitting at a table with some of the ladies and another resident came up to sit with them. I offered to move so that she could sit in my seat because it would be easier for her to get to. After we all got situated, she thanked me for giving her that seat back. Apparently she sits in it every day and has for a lot of years. Bahaha I apologized, of course, but you just never know what they're going to say.
I've ridden the Harding Place Shuttle to school several times. They get the biggest kick out of it when I ride the shuttle with them!
Last Thursday night, I spent several hours working on puzzles with them and playing Skip Bo. They take their card games very seriously and they don't really have a whole lot of patience for people who don't know how to play (you know, like me). I picked it up pretty quickly and everyone was happy, but they really are so intense about their cards!
This afternoon, I stopped by the cake and conversation social in the dining room. I told Ms. Betty that I was in Memphis yesterday for a half marathon. She said, "Oh my! Half a mile?" Uhhh no, Ms. Betty. 13, actually. And I'm feeling every one of them today!
Before I left for Memphis, two of them told me several times that they hoped "that you win your race!" Thanks, Ms. Nellie and Ms. Jean, but that is definitely not going to happen.

I am so obsessed with living here. Unfortunately, I won't be for much longer. In January when i come back to student teach, I'll be living in an apartment off campus. I'm excited to live off campus, but I literally want to cry when I think about not seeing all my friends every day. This has been such an incredible opportunity and I am so blessed to know all of these precious ladies!

we ran 5k for holden this morning!

2011-08-27T15:57:00.003-05:00

Holden's First Birthday and the Run For Water

2011-08-24T21:39:00.004-05:00

Saturday, August 28 marks one year from the day that Holden Newell Erwin met Jesus face to face. I get chills just writing that because this perfect, precious boy has spent all of his days in Glory. Holden's mama, Sarah, was 38 weeks and 5 days pregnant when sweet baby's heart stopped beating. Such a blessing for Holden to go straight from his mother's womb to Jesus' arms. So much pain for a mommy and daddy left on earth with empty arms and broken hearts.

In December 2010, Sarah and Chet founded Holden Uganda, a non-profit organization to spread the love of Christ through the gift of clean water. The original goal of HUF was to build 9 wells, one for each month that Holden's heart beat on this earth. By January 8 of this year, the Lord provided funds for the 9 wells, and many more have been funded since then.

This Saturday, on the one year birthday of sweet Holden and the anniversary of his one year in Heaven, there will be several 5K's around the country. One of the 5K's will be run in Searcy. In honor of Holden's first birthday, Sarah and Chet wanted to fund as many more wells as possible.

Will you consider joining us for the Holden Uganda 5K Fun Run for Water? We will meet at Spring Park at 7:00 Saturday morning (cry about it all you want. that's when it's happening. it's a saturday. you can take a nap). Official registration for the race is $25, but I know that that can be a lot of money for a college student. Rather than having everyone officially register, I'm asking that everyone who decides to run makes a donation of however much money they are comfortable with giving. We will send a check to HUF, and our total will be added to the totals of all of the other runs. I'll be sure to post the final amount of money raised after the run :) If you can't run or don't want to run and would be willing to help out with the run anyway (I mainly just need someone to sit at the finish line with a cooler of water bottles), PLEASE let me know. You will be such a blessing to us! Also, several of us will be getting together on Friday afternoon to decorate t-shirts to run in on Saturday morning. If that is something that you would be interested in doing/helping with, let me know. I am looking forward to the run on Saturday morning.

Sweet Holden, you are cherished and loved. We will never forget that you were here, that you had weight in this world. You are so loved, precious boy! I would give anything to know you on this side of Heaven, but I know that eternity will be so much sweeter because I get to snuggle you there :)

introducing...

2011-07-24T19:20:00.006-05:00

I would like to introduce you to two of the biggest blessings in my life. I have never met them in person. We have only corresponded through letters. But these two precious children of God are incredible blessings to me. Every day that I'm not home when the mail comes, I text my mom to ask if I've gotten a letter. And if I have, I drop everything to go get it. I look forward to those letters so much!

Over the past year, I have learned to pick out the off-white color of the envelope immediately when the mailbox is opened. I tear the envelopes open and read the letters as quickly as I can. Laeticia always draws me pictures of a flower. She draws beautiful flowers :) And Taweesak always draws a scene on the back of his letters. I press the paper to my face and cry, just knowing that their precious hands have touched it. Before I send my responses off, I kiss the letter and the envelope. They are such treasures, these letters that I receive.

My two Compassion kids live on the opposite side of the world. I really cannot even tell you how much I love them. I want to share their faces with you :)

Meet Taweesak. He is 8 years old. He live in Ban Sobme-roum, Thailand. He lives with his mother and father, who are both sometimes employed as farmers. Taweesak likes to draw. He likes to play cars and group games. I love him.

Meet Laeticia. She is 6 years old. She lives in Burkina Faso, Africa with her mother, who is sometimes employed selling sand. Laeticia loves to play jump rope, play with dolls and play group games. I love her.

I've given up Starbucks. It requires sacrifice to be able to pay for these sponsorships every month. $38 each month is not a huge amount for me. It definitely feels like it sometimes, but I can afford to sacrifice that money for these kids. But for them, my sponsorship means everything. It means that they are loved and treasured by someone who lives on the opposite side of the globe. It means that they are prayed for every day. They go to Bible classes and learn about Jesus and know that I know the same Jesus that they do.

Sometimes, I have to give up things that I want in order to pay the sponsorship fees for my kids, but I know how much it means to them. And because of that, I would give up just about anything for those two.

If it is an option for you financially, would you consider sponsoring a child through Compassion International? If you would like me to help you choose a child to sponsor, I would be more than happy to. I am so blessed to be involved with this organization!!

finding my feet

2011-07-24T11:39:00.005-05:00

well, i'm running again. i hesitate to even start this post because every time i say that i'm doing something, i generally stop. but i've already registered and paid for the st. jude half marathon, so i think i'm really going to do it this time. let's make it official...

I, Katie Vick, will be running in the St. Jude Half Marathon on December 3, 2011.

and what the heck am i thinking?! i struggled through my four-mile run last week (the longest run to date). what makes me think that i can run 13.1 miles?!?!?!

i keep accidentally taking days off from training...like yesterday. i think i should be running 5-6 days a week. but i don't. and after i take a day off, my run is much more difficult. you would think that i would have learned by now. but i have not.

running is killing me. most days after my run, i ice my knees, put heat on my calves, slather my poor chaffed legs in vasoline and peel the (unfortunate, poorly working) bandaids off my aching feet. and hobble around for the rest of the day. but i feel SO GOOD. seriously. i didn't believe it could be true until i experienced it myself. running makes me feel great! and in the 3 (or maybe 4) weeks that i've been running, my calves have transformed from flabby annoyances at the bottom of my leg to muscular powerhouses. it's amazing.

i have been hungrier since i started running than i have ever been in my life. it's pathetic, really, because i'm not even running very far/fast/long/well, but i want to eat every second.

and i really feel like a real runner, too. i have a basket in the hall closet with my shoes, headphones, arm band, water bottle, body glide and various tapes/moleskins for my feet. i bought compression shorts and new shoes. i'm buying running socks. WHO AM I TURNING INTO?!?!

i decided to run this half after a blogger that I have followed for a while, Raechel, blogged about her decision to participate. she even invited readers to join her! so i thought to myself, self, you've been wanting to run. you've even been wanting to run a half marathon. if you're ever going to do it, you may as well do it now. you have friends that participate in this race. it will be fun. just do it. and so i did. i did it. i registered. and i've been running. and i'm about to go for a run right now. i have lots of really fun pictures for you, but those will have to wait....

because i have a half marathon to train for.

my newest home

2011-07-22T16:56:00.004-05:00

if i gave you a TRILLION guesses, you still probably would not guess where i am going to be living this coming school year. before i share, let me remind you of a few things...

1) I am 21 years old.

2) I am in college.

3) I attend a university that requires students to live on campus until they are 23 years old or have completed approximately 19,000 credit hours (that might be a slight exaggeration).

this coming year, there will be more students enrolled than they have room for in the on campus living options. so they sent us an e-mail stating that for a limited time only, you could apply/request/beg/bribe to live off campus if you were at least 21 years old. HELLO?! so the entire student body was in a frenzy. it was a frantic day and a half (or so) before they send another e-mail. the offer is no longer on the table. no one was surprised.

HOWEVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!

they had another option. they needed approximately 24 girls to be willing to move into....

wait for it..........

HARDING PLACE!!!!!!

now, for those of you not familiar with the harding community, you may be slightly confused. allow me to explain. just off of harding's campus sits a lovely assisted living community. like...retirement home. like...for the elderly.

I LOVE OLD PEOPLE! when i was little and my mom would lose track of me somewhere (before losing sight of a child for .3 seconds warranted a 911 call), she would always find me chatting up an old man (always called Poppy).

listen, you may be judging me right now, and i probably don't blame you for that, but i am SO EXCITED about this. i seriously cannot wait. i'll be living in a one bedroom apartment with one of my sweet friends. and right next door to harding place sits harding village (apartments). many of my married friends LIVE RIGHT THERE! so close to me. so great!!

so there you have it. one month from now, i will be settling into my new home at the assisted living community.

(my mom is getting tired of this already. every time we see an older person ANYWHERE i tell her that they are going to be my neighbor. she loves it...or at least she did the first 500 times it happened. now? not so much)

(p.s. this is not a joke. i really am going to live in an assisted living community. forreal. i promise)

my car

2011-07-09T00:21:00.003-05:00

my car got broken into on thursday night. they took most of the money that i have made this summer (it was meant to go to the bank but i didn't get a chance that day), my gps and my phone charger. i keep thinking about all of the things that i could have done differently so that there would have been a different outcome. but i didn't. and those things are gone. i feel violated and sad and frustrated. that money was supposed to pay for my two precious compassion kids for this year. and it was supposed to be the beginning of my savings for africa. and now i have to start over. since it happened, every time i sit in my car i feel nauseous. someone else has been in there. someone that i don't know. and they touched my things. and they took them. i work hard for my money. and yeah, i should not have waited that long to deposit the money in the bank. and yeah, i should not have left it in the center console overnight. but i am so anal about locking my car. and i was feeling so sick when i got home that night. i never even thought about it. it really really sucks. and i hope that whoever did it really needed that money.

i just want to go

2011-06-16T20:02:00.000-05:00

i suddenly feel a sense of urgency about africa. and something tells me that i will not be content with my life here until i have done something about it. my eyes ache tonight from the tears that cannot fall for those around the world who do not have a home. and more importantly than even that, my heart hurts for those who do not know our Savior.

i am hurting because i know that it is not yet my time to go. and it is so hard for me to live in a place of waiting. i'm impatient. i know that there is a need and i want to do something about it. i'm frustrated. and i'm sad. because i want to be there. not here.

at this time in my life, i am having to focus a lot on myself and my future and, as often comes with that kind of internal focus, my past. it's exhausting. and i think that because of this intense, exhausting focus on myself, i feel like i NEED to be a part of something bigger than myself. and i wonder how that need fits in with this desire to be in africa.

i talk with my mom about it sometimes. she tells me that i've wanted to go to africa since i was 5. a few years ago, i was terrified that God might be preparing me to live abroad in a place of need. i wanted to graduate from college and teach sweet american children in an american school in my safe american home. not anymore. what i want more than anything is to get on an airplane with as few belongings as possible and get off in a place like uganda or ethiopia or burkina faso (where one of my precious, adored, wonderful compassion children lives) and figure it out when i get there. find a school. teach the children. visit their homes. go to church with them. and i know that this change of heart has had nothing to do with me.

so here i am. i know that i will go. i do not yet know how. or when. but i know that i will. and yesterday, i read in three places about how beautiful and difficult the waiting can be. that was from Him. i have no doubt. one post from holley, one post from ann, and one post from sweet chelsea.

i think that i'm doing all that i can from where i am. i'm having to change the way that i spend my money because each month, $76 are taken from my bank account in an attempt to change the lives of my two compassion children. i think about laeticia and taweesak in their homes in burkina faso and thailand and want to cry. my heart aches for them. they will never know how much i love them. and if i had more money, i would sponsor more in a heartbeat.

i think that the waiting will prove to be harder than the going. and that's okay. i know that there will be beauty in the waiting and that love will grow in the longing so that by the time it is time for me to go, i will be even more ready than i am tonight.

Hinds Feet on High Places

2011-05-29T12:20:00.002-05:00

A long time ago, Erin let me borrow a book. It was about God and, at the time, I wanted nothing to do with the church at all. I read a few pages of the book and gave it back.

Over spring break, I visited Erin and Blair at Camp Eagle. While I was there, I started reading the book again. I really liked it a lot. It took me several pages to catch on to the writing, but once I did, I fell in love. I didn't get to finish it. When I got home, I went to Borders (which is going out of business and having MAJOR sales) to buy the book. I'm still reading it. I keep getting kind of discouraged. But let me tell you, this book is changing my life.

Here is my favorite quote from the book:

"'Much Afraid,' he said very gently in answer to that look, 'don't you know by now that I never think of you as you are now but as you will be when I have brought you to the Kingdom of Love and washed you from all the stains and defilements from this journey? If I come along behind you and notice that you are finding the way especially difficult, and are suffering from slips and falls, it only makes me think of what you will be like when you are with me, leaping and skipping on the High Places.'" -Hannah Hurnard, Hinds Feet on High Places (page 151)

Is that really how God looks at me? It seems so incredible, but I want to believe it! He is so awesome and mighty and loving. Whenever I get discouraged or make a mistake or slip up in my journey, I look back at this passage to remind myself how He sees me.

ETA: I finally finished the book and I can't wait to start it over. It's one of those, you know? The first time, I didn't annotate. This time I will. And I want to write down all of the beautiful things that the Shepherd says to Much Afraid throughout the book in my journal. Because it is so amazing. And that is all :)

Summer

2011-05-02T12:53:00.001-05:00

You fill my days
with laughter
and sunshine
and so I love
you.
I love the
smell
of you,
the sunscreen and
chlorine and
coconut that fills the
air from late
May until August.
Our days
together
begin early. My
alarm
goes off too
soon. But
looking forward to a day full
of sun and the kids
and pool
makes getting up
much more manageable.
And summer?
You are bittersweet this
year.
This is the last time
we’ll meet
before I have to find a real
grown-up
job. I don’t want to
be a grown up, Summer.
I want to enjoy
you like this
forever.
But maybe I’ll find
that I like
you better
next year.

dance

2011-04-17T08:29:00.000-05:00

i used to dance. did you know that? i danced from the time i was in third grade until i graduated from high school, with several breaks for various reasons. i was never good. and i'm not just saying that. i really was not ever good. i'm not light enough on my feet for the leaps and pirouettes, but my mind works in a way that's conducive to remembering combinations and the way my feet should move. still now, years after i've stopped dancing, my mind repeats the rhythms and combinations whenever i'm listening to music. it's not a conscious thing. but as i listen to music, i notice my toes moving. and then i hear it in my head. tombe, pas de bourree, glissade, jete, glissade, jete, sous sous, sote, tombe, pas de bourree. and i can remember the rhythm for every dance we ever learned. and they fit with every song i ever listen to. i see dances in my head when i listen to music. and i really really miss dancing. when i go home, i try to go see my old dance teachers. over christmas, i did a private lesson with one of them. and for 45 minutes, we laughed and danced and there was joy. i guess i still kind of dance.

my take

2011-03-04T15:31:00.002-06:00

I'm not very good with words, but I have a definite opinion about what's happening on campus this week. I'm also not a very loud person, so this is the only place that my opinion is going to be heard. So I'm going to do my best to explain how I feel about all of this. Just stick with me :)

I have to say that I really have no problem with people wanting to share their stories. I think there is incredible power in being able to be open and honest with the things that we've experienced. I know that there are homosexual people that attend Harding University, just like I know that there are people who have sex with their heterosexual partners, those who choose to drink and do drugs, and those who struggle with gossip. Not one of these things is any worse than the other. I love it when people share their stories about their struggles. It brings people together. So the thought behind the zine sharing the stories of those at Harding who do struggle with homosexuality is completely legit. In fact, I think it's brilliant.

Here is where I have a problem. The stories were, in my opinion, unnecessarily profane. The images in the zine were of things that Harding makes a point to block from our internet access. Writers were taking the Lord's name in vain and, in fact, going so far as to essentially cuss Jesus out. I was uncomfortable reading several of the stories and was incredibly uncomfortable with the majority of the images within the zine. And so when I heard that Harding had blocked the website, I was not surprised...not because the content was unacceptable (as I said, I think the idea behind it was great), but because the way that they went about presenting the information was absolutely inappropriate. The language was vulgar and offensive. The images were unbelievably graphic. Anyone who thinks that the blocking of the website was strictly because of the fact that it was homosexual in nature is delusional. If a group of heterosexual people published something containing stories and images of the same magnitude, it would be blocked just as quickly.

Personally, I do not struggle with homosexuality, but I DO struggle with an incredible amount of things that are just as much of a sin, like lying, lust, gossip and judgement. I would NEVER claim that I was better than someone struggling with homosexuality. A sin is a sin is a sin is a sin. None is better or worse than another. Further, I am absolutely certain that Harding does not discriminate against homosexual acts. Students can not be kicked out of Harding for struggling with homosexuality. They CAN be kicked out for acting upon it. Page 11 in the handbook states that sexual immorality of ANY KIND is means for suspension. Homosexuality is one of those kinds. So is premarital sex, among many other things. If any student is caught engaged in an act of sexual immorality, they will be required to leave. So this thought that Harding is discriminating against homosexuals is absolutely false.

I can honestly say that I am proud of the way that Harding is handling this. It's disheartening to hear all of the backlash that the University is getting as a result. And that's all I have to say.

He's so good

2011-02-20T22:42:00.003-06:00

"well, this is the address that i put into the gps. so assuming that i typed it in right, this is the house. but i'm not really sure."

"kevin. this is the right address! stop sitting here like a creep." i was. the silver car was taking up most of the road. it was angled towards the house, stopped so that i could see through the window.

"i see two girls in there. are there two girls?"

"like erin and her mom? i don't think there should be another girl here..."

"kevin, really. this is so weird. just park the car." and then she was there. stepping out the front door. walking towards my car. and i could have cried right then. i pulled the car into the driveway and opened the door. and then i was hugging her. it was so unreal.

it's amazing, the way that God works. earlier this week, i decided that i wanted to go to flower mound, texas this weekend to visit my aunt and my cousin. it was an open weekend and i haven't seen them in a few months. on friday, i was getting packed and ready to leave. i can't remember if i found it on facebook or on her blog. i saw somewhere that she was in dallas. or maybe she said denton. i can't remember now. but i knew she was close. so i sent her a message. and several hours later, i pulled up in front of her parents' house and got to hug her and talk with her and hear her voice and it was so great. it was so unexpected. we talked about gwen and her weekend with the hope mommies and school and stuff. and then the rest of her family got to the house and it was time for us to leave. we walked outside. she had my hope mommies shirt in her car, so we got it. and we hugged again for a long time and i told her some things and we both almost cried (okay fine. i forreal cried). it was so sweet to get to see my friend this weekend. God is so good to me.

the house

2011-02-10T22:12:00.001-06:00

Remember the auction?

Remember how they were going to Michigan?

Well they did.

And now they're back.

It's a complicated story that I won't get into.

The bottom line is that they're back in the house.

And so a few weekends ago, I spent a night there with them.

We did laundry (everyone helped fold), ate chicken and rice and watched lots of really old tv shows that I only love when my Poppy is laughing in the chair next to me.

There were 2 envelopes in the mailbox. One for each to open. And there they were, on their porch in the beautiful January sun. They savored the unseasonably warm day and I got to watch. She loves that man, my Memaw does.

And there's such beauty in the quiet with them.

I took advantage of the quiet.

I took pictures of them.

Some wonderful neighbors stopped by.

Poppy got to hold little Autumn.

We all smiled, watching the two of them.

And then I left, promising to return soon.

Tuesday was my Poppy's birthday.

Autumn's mommy made him a homemade chocolate pie (his favorite).

He talks about her pies every day.

My grandparents are so precious.

it's not supposed to happen to the people i love

2011-02-06T12:36:00.003-06:00

I jolted awake at 4:12 that morning. Before checking my phone, I prayed that there wouldn't be a text from her. There was. I hesitated for a moment before reading it, knowing that there would be no more rest after I knew. There were few words, but the message they held changed me. As the hot tears rolled down my cheeks, I lay my head on my pillow and closed my eyes. I could think of nothing to do but cry and pray.

8 months before that night, I had opened my facebook inbox to find this message from Erin.

Every conversation that E and I had started with "the question". Is there a baby yet? And so many times the answer had been no. But this time, it wasn't. This child was already so loved and wanted. I couldn't wait to meet the baby, hold the baby, spoil the baby.

The months that followed were exciting. We talked about baby names (I'm all about the baby names). They didn't find out what they were having, which was frustrating but fun. We talked about when I would visit and how she was about to be a mom. And then...

I was sitting on the couch at Danielle's house checking facebook for the thousandth time that day, hoping for news of the baby. I saw something about labor. I drafted a text, "is there a baby?!?!?!" And while I waited to hear, I noticed something on another friend's status about prayers and complications and my heart dropped. I read blogs...lots of them...about women who lose their babies. But it isn't supposed to happen to the women that I love.

I found Mandi in my phonebook quickly and called. She didn't answer. I went back to facebook, looking at everyones profile that I thought might have information. A few minutes later, Mandi called back. I couldn't possibly have been prepared for what I heard. Girl. No name. Heart stopped. Hospital. Emergency. Lots and lots of complications. As soon as I hung up with Mandi, I had a text from Erin. "Baby is here. Lots of complications. Please pray." And we did.

The next few days were so hard. I was so shaken by this turn of events, and it was so hard to think about what Erin was feeling and thinking. Baby didn't have a name until a day after she was born. Gwendolyn Hope. She was so beautiful. I cried and prayed and petitioned prayer from everyone I could think of. I asked Mandi to update me when she knew more.

And so on that night, I woke shortly after 4 in the morning to the text message that I had been praying would not come. At that moment, I could think of nothing but sweet Erin. This woman that has forever changed my life, who has loved be even (and especially) when I didn't deserve it and shown me God's love. I knew that she was broken. And I could do nothing.

Years earlier, I had woken to a call from Erin. I had asked (begged) to be the VERY FIRST PERSON that she called after Blair proposed. When my phone rang at 6 in the morning, I saw who it was and rolled back over. Whatever it was could wait. There was no way Blair had proposed since the last time I had talked to her the night before. She left a message. "Katie. You might want to call me back!" I could hear the smile in her voice. And sleep was no longer important. I called back immediately and we shrieked and celebrated and, on that morning, I could sleep no more from the excitement. My friend was getting married!

And at her wedding. It was so beautiful. And sweet little Brynn was so sick. She made it down the aisle, dropping flower petals as she walked. Soon after, she ran back and started throwing up. Poor thing. And when she threw up at the reception, I helped clean it up. And Erin knew how big of a deal that was because I HATE vomit. But I did it for her.

One night over Christmas break, my friend and I stayed up late talking and crying. I told her that I doodle her girl's name on my notes in class because she was here and she is so loved. We talked about how much it sucks. I couldn't wait to meet and hold her daughter. It feels like I've been waiting forever to hold her baby (I've wanted her to have a baby since she and Blair started dating). I love babies, you know (she does). We talked about her name and how perfect it is (I definitely approve). Whenever we talk about her daughter, we use present tense. Because Gwenny is still Erin's daughter. And Erin is still Gwen's mom.

I can't wait to get to Heaven. I would give anything to hold Gwenny on this Earth, but that wasn't God's plan. I don't understand. It doesn't make it hurt any less. But I know that Heaven will be that much sweeter because Erin will get to be with Gwen. And Gwen will get to introduce her mommy to Jesus.

In the days that followed Gwendolyn's death, my precious friend started a blog. It will make you cry. Really...don't read it without a box of kleenex. She's so real, you guys. I love her soooo much. And I can't wait to hug her neck in March.

new

2011-01-17T09:14:00.004-06:00

Last night, I had 14 girls over for dinner. I cooked chicken tacos and made a taco buffet and there was eating and laughter and Golden Globe watching. And after the show ended, I headed to Walmart with two of my sweet friends. And we laughed a lot. I got home and put my things away. I got ready for bed at my new sink. And then I came into my own room, locked the door, and crawled into my bed. I looked around this room and thanked God for the new. This semester is a new start. I love that. My room is new. And I love it. I have a kitchen. It's so perfect. And the girls I live with are so laid back. I'm usually so intimidated by new. And really I was this time, too. Until last night when I snuggled under my covers and listened to the sounds of this new home. And this morning, I woke to the laughter of the rest of my suite. My immediate reaction was annoyance...until I realized how much of a blessing it was. And I am so thankful for the new.

Tomorrow I get to start my classes. I love school. I love classes. And I get to buy my new books. I love that, too. I'm starting this semester so happy and at peace and I am so thankful for that, too.

Here's a sneak peak at my new digs. I'm not quite finished decorating, but you get the idea :) LOVE IT!

Christmas Eve

2010-12-24T19:52:00.003-06:00

the day a blank piece of paper made me want to cry

2010-10-09T23:58:00.003-05:00

I was talking with a friend on Wednesday, she kind of blew my mind. She told me that even intentional sins are forgiven. And she showed me a blank piece of paper and told me that my God has purposeful amnesia. When He looks at me, He doesn't see all of the smudges from where He's erased mistakes. He doesn't even remember them. He just sees me as His beautiful daughter. And I wanted to cry.

the retreat

2010-10-02T20:29:00.004-05:00

June 23, 2010
So first I had to leave school and I thought my world was ending. I mourned for a few days and then started looking for a job and a way to volunteer. A few weeks in, I e-mailed Karin and God answered prayers in ways I never could have imagined. I got to spend every day doing what I love. I had experiences that I never would have had at school. I gained the support and friendship of an entire staff of teachers and associates. I worked on projects, got an awesome summer job, and was connected with an incredible group of women. And what would I be doing now if I hadn't left? And so my testimony has changed. Because He is so good. And He is always in control...especially when I feel so completely out of control. And He never forgets and He never abandons and His timing is not always mine. But He is mighty and good and I am His.

I wrote that a few days after I started nannying this summer. Two weeks after the best semester of my life ended and two months before I had to return to this place. We had a retreat today. Delta Gamma Rho, Pi Theta Phi, Ju Go Ju and Zeta Rho. Two clubs that I am completely comfortable with and two clubs that I am completely intimidated by. It was so beautiful. We spent the first hour in worship. I almost cried. I closed my eyes and imagined that what I was hearing was what I will hear in Heaven. Beautiful voices. Lots of them. Daughters of the King coming together to praise Him. Crossing boundaries of clubs and cliques and dorms and ages to kneel before our Heavenly Father together. I felt Him in that place. We had lots of time to pray and reflect. Here is what he told me.

"I made you"
"You are Mine"
"You are beautiful"
"I love you"
"I am not disappointed"
"I am captivated by YOU"

Oh, how beautiful, to be whispered truths by my Heavenly Daddy. He calmed fears and insecurities and He spoke. It was the most overwhelming thing I've felt in a long time. He revealed things to me...convicted me. I make excuses. I live in fear. Every second of every day, I'm afraid of something. And I'm more concerned about judgement by those in this earth than the judgement I'll face at the end of this life.

One night last year, I went to a worship service and a friend came and whispered to me that she had something to share. She held my hands and told me of something that she had seen. I had been in a field, spinning with my arms open wide. Eyes closed, face to the sky, I spun and spun like a little girl. And I laughed. And there was sunshine. I cried when she shared that with me. It's what I long for. Freedom. Today while I was praying, God showed me what was missing from that image...Him. He was holding my hands and spinning with me, and when I got too dizzy to stand, He held me close until it passed. And He looked at me like I was the only girl in this world...the only thing that mattered. He watched me with a smile on His face and that twinge in His heart, like you get when you're watching someone that you love do something so precious. And it just kind of hit me...He loves me like that. He is jealous for me. He's been waiting for me for a long time. He's desired this relationship with me since before I was born. How incredible is that? Today was such a beautiful day.

One thing God has spoken, two things I have heard: that you, O God, are strong, and that you, O Lord, are loving. Psalm 62: 11-12

2010-09-05T22:33:00.003-05:00

I'm not sure if it was part of God's plan to come back. Let me rephrase. I'm not sure if God's only plan was for me to come back. I am sure that He is working, though. And I'm sure that he would have worked whether I had stayed in Chicago or gone to Dallas, too. Everything is different and beautiful and perfect. Not perfect. Sometimes pretty close, though. And sometimes I still get lonely. And sometimes the evil in my mind takes me to places I don't want to be. But God is always there, waiting to bring me back...waiting to forgive.

The first time I prayed and asked for forgiveness was a few months ago. In Ilona's living room, kneeling on a pillow next to my precious friend, eyes closed, hands folded, head bowed on couch. She went first. I was so intimidated. I didn't know where to start. But once I did, I couldn't stop. It was the most beautiful thing I have ever experienced, to be free. I will never forget that moment.

I'm back, now. I'm still not sure it was the right choice, but it's the one I made and I thank God every day for showing Himself through this time. Like when I was able to stand up in front of my class on only the second day and give a presentation about myself. And when I don't have to get up in front of my Bible class to present current events. And when my teachers were so understanding when I told them about the anxiety and none of them have called on me in class without my hand raised. It's so beautiful to see God here. It's so beautiful to know that He would have been working if I had gone to Dallas, too.

Sometimes, it gets too dark in my room...too quiet. And I do get lonely and sad. And I do long for the laughter and joy that surrounded the past six months of my life. Those kids who made the situation bearable...and even worth it. Those kids who whined and cried every day and had snotty noses and untied shoes. Those kids who gave me hugs and drew me pictures and told me they loved me. I got up every morning for them. And sometimes it's still hard to get up and know that I don't get to see them. But someday, I'll get to be in the classroom again, this time as the forREALZ teacher. I can't wait for that day. And I'll get to see those kids every stinkin day. And I'll want to wring their necks, somedays. And I'll complain about them to anyone who will listen. And I'll have to deal with the psycho parents. And it'll all be so worth it. Tomorrow is Monday. I'll get up early for class. And when I start to complain about the work that I have to do, I'll open my Bible or either one of my agendas or any one of the pockets in my backpack and pull out a picture of those precious kids and remind myself that I'm here for them.

and now

2010-08-17T21:31:00.000-05:00

Everything is different. It feels like a lifetime since the last time I set foot on this campus…in that room. That room that was mine. And I unpack in my new room, just across the hall, and I don’t remember the girl that lived there. I sit at my new desk, surrounded by pictures of the kids and projects that they made for me. Everything in this room shows growth. The pictures. The projects. The paintings. Everything is new. Everything is stronger and better. Everything points to the fact that I am finally ready for this. And that everything will be different. Praise God!

1000 Gifts

2010-07-22T11:58:00.004-05:00

It all started with this. I found it one day. It wasn't a good day. And so on that day, rather than writing all the things that were wrong with me in my notebooks during class, I scribbled, as quickly as I could, the gifts that God had given me. I went home for fall break and bought a journal. A special one. And I started writing. Today, not quite a year later, I'm at 731. Sometimes, I mention specific people. Sometimes it's a feeling, an emotion, a memory. Sometimes it's a smell or an event. I think the word "laughter" must be in there at least 20 times.

1. The woman with toilet paper on her shoe
2. The perfect sunset on a heavy day
3. An empty seat next to me on the flight home
4. Singing in chapel on a day that went from bad to worse
5. Downtown service on Sunday nights
6. Grace like rain and rain to remind me

16. The smell of fall
17. Peach juice on my chin

21. Mail in my mailbox
22. An extra hour of sleep

41. Sunshine after a week of rain
42. Getting out of class early
43. naps
44. raspberry lemonade and goldfish

91. Picture books
92. Suckers in class
93. Days of rest
94. Quiet
95. Softball games
96. A dark sky full of the promise of rain
97. A package with cookies and nutella
98. Phone calls
99. Chapel every morning

143. This morning, we sang out of the song books. Jessie Spears gave an announcement and so did some Chinese girls. My day began with laughter

253. Education classes
254. A shower that drains
255. I prayed for friends. He answered in a big way

301. The only thing "rough" about rough night was not laughing

393. Apples and fall
394. Function dates and tacky sweaters
395. Smiling
396. Praises
397. Naps
398. Squirrels
399. Pies
400. Baking
401. Promises

413. 4 days in bed- being sick was worth it

572. There's one cotton plant left in the garden
573. The memories at that old house
574. Empty journal pages
575. Earth science will teach me patience
576. Learning to be still

583. Night
584. Days full of first grade and laughter
585. One month from the day I left, I'll be with them
586. Healing
587. Drowning in grace
588. Making decisions
589. Early march birds

676. Tutus
677. Dancing

Almost 1,000. It won't stop there. How could it? Every day, I am so blessed by Him and His presence. Luckily, I bought a pretty big journal...

2010-07-20T09:08:00.002-05:00

i'm a fixer
by nature. i like
to fix things. i like
to be able to fix
things. not really things.
situations.

i'm in dallas
right now. and i
want to be able to fix
everything.

i also want
God
to send me some sort of sign
...
like maybe a letter
or something
...
letting me know where i
need to be in school in
august
(which is in less than a
month
...
not that i'm keeping track
or anything...).
searcy?
fort worth?
chicago?
i
just
don't
know.

and so i sit.
in a
situation
that is unfixable by me
and uncertain.
i am
heartbroken
and
confused.
i don't like
living in uncertainty.
it scares me.

so i could stay
here.
in dallas.
i could work
for my
aunt and play with
my baby.

or i could
go
back to searcy,
which is equally stressful and
scary and
overwhelming.

or i could
stay
in chicago with
my beautiful small group
and the support
of the teachers and students at
school.

they're all scary and
exciting
and they all sound
great. i want
to make all of
them work because they're
all so perfect in their own way.......
but i don't think any are
perfect
on their own.

so do i stay here?
or go back?
or stay there?

i
just
don't
know.

2010-07-09T22:14:00.000-05:00

I wrote this post in May after spending time with my great-grandmother. I never posted. I don't remember why. Here it is:

Today, we spent a few hours with my 90 year old great-grandmother. She is so very precious. We sat with her laughing about the women in the nursing home who try to break out. We laughed about the woman wheeling past with a beeper on her wheelchair. We laughed a lot. And in the midst of the laughter, I saw the pain in her eyes. Here she sat, with the son, wife and daughter of her firstborn, years after she buried him. We talked about her son...my dad's dad. As we talked about his Eagle Scout belongings in the cedar chest, I remembered that I was sitting with a woman who buried her oldest son.

My dad's biological father died when my dad was only four years old. At the time, he had one other younger brother. A few years later, my grandmother remarried. She and Walter went on to have two more boys. My dad calls Walter his dad. It was an uncomfortable moment. I heard the hesitation in my dad's voice as he struggled with how to address his own father. Dad? Jody? How do you approach a situation like that?

Over the past few years, I've come to understand how absolutely precious pregnancy, birth, and motherhood is. Nothing is guarenteed. I've read more blogs than I can count in which women chronicle the lives and deaths of their infants. Sometimes they knew that their child would not live. Other times it was a shock. How do you deal with something like that? And then there are the blogs about the families who give birth to perfectly healthy babies. They treasure them and love them and then find that their precious babies have a tumor determined to take over their tiny body. And then there are the parents who get to raise their children for many many years before cancer or some kind of accident rips them from this world.

It's something parents take for granted- the birth of a healthy baby. I never even realized that the situation could be different until I stumbled upon Angie Smith's blog years ago. I cried with her as she carried her beautiful daughter, knowing full well that she would not stay long in this world. I remember vividly the night that I learned that sweet Tuesday had been healed in Heaven. I have cried so many nights for so many families that I have never met. And suddenly, my perception of parenthood is so very different. How can you take for granted holding and loving and kissing your perfect baby while down the hall, a woman could have just delivered her child and held them as they took their first breath and their last. How can you not think of your healthy infant as a miracle? I hope that I will never take for granted the miracles my children are.

I have two living great-grandmothers. One is 90 and the other is 92. Each has buried a child. And my grandmother held her newborn son until he breathed his last on this Earth. How can you look at a woman the same after you learn that about them? How can you hug them the same way? To have buried a child must be the greatest pain, and how many women are living with it? The woman checking out behind me in line at Target has two precious children in her cart. I smile at her. For a split second, I wonder about her story. Are those the only children she's carried? How many women lie when asked how many children they have? Even my sweet cousin suddenly lost her daughter after 14 months of life to congestive heart failure. I was at that funeral. And how do you move on from something like that? My heart aches just to think about it. Every Christmas, every birthday, another memory with an obvious hole.

I don't know yet why God has put this on my heart. I don't know if I'll lose a baby someday. I don't know if I'll know someone who does. I do know that I serve a God who is good all the time. I believe that God might be preparing me for something. I'm not sure yet what that may be. It is my prayer that I never lose this sense of urgency and compassion to reach out to women in pain. I pray that He would help me to remember that these women will never forget.

i really shouldn't get paid for this

2010-07-08T19:24:00.000-05:00

Basically, I have the best job in the world. My alarm goes off at 6:45. I get up, shower, throw everything in the car, drive 3 minutes and pull up in front of the beautiful yellow house. As I walk up the stairs, Mr. F greets me at the door. He gives me the low down on the hooligans and leaves.

Z usually starts out the day on the computer while P prefers to begin his day by wrestling with me. Whatever. Then we eat breakfast, play some ridiculous game that P comes up with, and then eat lunch until 11:30 and walk to the pool. We usually stay for at least an hour and a half. The kids typically can find friends to play with, leaving me alone to read or tan or play with them and my other little munchkins there with camp. Sometimes we walk over to the library. They do the summer reading program while I find books that I loved in junior high. We make up our own games on the alphabet rug (on this particular day, we were playing Hullabaloo...seriously entertaining).
Sometimes we run errands. Sometimes we go on field trips. Like today. We went bowling. Last week, we went to the Botanic Gardens. On rainy days, we watch movies. On Tuesdays, we go see the $1 movie in Skokie. And I shouldn't get paid for my job.

part 1

2010-07-04T19:48:00.003-05:00

My best friend Emily came to visit me back in May. Shortly after she left my house, she left for Africa for six weeks. She's been serving the Lord in Burkina Faso, living with missionaries, meeting Christians and experiencing African culture firsthand. She is a beautiful person inside and out. She's also going to be my roommate next year, which I can't wait for!! She's an RA, which means we'll have our OWN bathroom (which is a good enough reason for me to want to be roommates with her ;)). I haven't heard her voice in six weeks. She'll be home on Tuesday. I can't wait to talk to her!! I know she has such incredible stories to tell. Her birthday was the day she landed in Africa. I should have been a good friend and sent her present before she left, but I'm not that organized, so it didn't quite happen......

So I sent my bff her birthday present yesterday. There were 3 envelopes. The third had a photo collage. Here's picture number 1:

Stay tuned for the rest of the cards! ;)

because He can...

2010-06-18T02:14:00.002-05:00

still good

2010-06-17T03:33:00.004-05:00

it still amazes me how great God is.

isn't that sad?

after everything that's happened, He

still manages to surprise me.

how?

and then other times...

other times i can't imagine

that the things that happened really did.

i watched the video of zac smith.

watch it.

i made it through the whole thing

with tears in my eyes and none on my cheeks...

until the very end.

"if God chooses to heal

me, then God is God, and God

is good.

if God chooses not

to heal me,

then God is

still God, and God is

still good."

and then i lost it.

so beautiful, those words.

but do i believe them? if God

chooses to point me in the right direction, chooses

to send me a letter spelling out

exactly what my life should look like for the next

few years, the God is God, and God

is good.

but what if He doesn't? is

God still God? is God still

good?

i'm in a place of uncertainty right now.

it scares me more than

i would care to admit.

because i do believe that God is God

and that God is good regardless of whether or not He

paints me His answer in the sky. so

where is this fear

coming from?

i am so scared. i am so

stressed.

i don't like to make decisions like this because i

don't trust myself to make them.

what if i make the wrong decision?

it's easily fixable...after

a whole semester.

i just don't know

what to expect. i don't know

what it's going to be like. i don't know

how i am going to be able to merge my old life with

my new one...my past with my

present...my semester the way that it was "supposed

to be" and my semester the way that

i wouldn't trade for anything.

i've learned

so much

and changed

so much.

how am i going to fit back in

to my old life as

the new me?

friendships are going to change. i

know that. and it scares me.

i am so thankful for the ways that God

provides, though.

He's provided a new group of women at home

that support me and hug me

and pray with and

for me.

He's provided a vacation at the

most perfect time (which felt like the worst

possible time about a month ago).

and here i am.

hawaii.

breathtaking.

i'm still unsure.

so very unsure.

i'm angry and frustrated after the

conversation i tried

to have the other

day.

sometimes i'm struck by this incredible

feeling of disbelief over everything that's happened over

the past

three

months.

and last night.

i fell asleep

on the couch

with tears in my eyes

as the sounds of my friends' voices echoed

in the room...so thankful

that i thought to record some

of our laughter and

precious moments

together.

i'm still hurt by so much.

and i'm still in this place

of uncertainty

where i feel so overwhelmed and

incapable of making

any semblance of a decision.

but the beauty of it all is that

God is still God

and

God is still good.

geneva

2010-05-15T20:08:00.000-05:00

ETA: PICTURES!!!!!!!!! Only a few months late :)

Carla (my mom) and I went to Geneva for the day today and OH. MY. WORD. I'm in love with it. It's the cutest little town with these precious little shops. I found all kinds of ADORABLE things and in every single store that we went into, I found at least something that I'm going to want in my house someday. Seriously. Obsessed. Anyway, I got some really great pictures. I'm too lazy to go get my camera cord right now (...because I'm house sitting and my camera cord is at home...not that I would get it even if I were at home right now...) but get ready. You'll be obsessed with it too!

the auction

2010-05-10T18:32:00.005-05:00

Morning comes too soon. I’m yanked from my slumber by a knock on the glass door 15 feet from the couch where I sleep. The army of men are there, ready to work. As we struggle to get ready for the day, they carry out The Memory Pieces and lay them in the yard. The cabinet from the doll room, hearts cut from door, where fabric used to lie in wait. Many times, we opened those doors, searching for the perfect piece of fabric for whatever project we were working on with our sweet Memaw. They speak to us in broken English and each other in Spanish, using words so casual for the things they’re carrying out. “La mesa, tambien”, they call. The table around which we ate so many dinners, celebrated so many holidays. The table that held the centerpieces of dead leaves and acorns that we worked so hard to create. Yeah, la mesa tambien. The man of this house sits frozen in his chair, watching as his life is being carried out. I squat next to the chair that reminds me of him. “Are you ready for this?” I ask. The movement is barely detectable. A shake. I pretend not to see the tear in his eye that never moves from the doorway through which his life is being removed, one piece at a time. “Neither am I,” I promise. None of us are. “It means my time is almost up, you know?” He whispers. And I shake my head. It can’t mean that. “It just means it’s time to go to Michigan” I manage, with a smile on my face. He looks at me for the first time this morning and smiles. I plant a kiss on his bald head. “You’re a sweet girl, you know that?” He asks. I nod, and leave through the same door that his eyes have been on all morning. He watches me go and knows I’ll return.

We’re quiet as we watch. We have no words. How could there be words? He holds up his cup when he’s ready for more coffee. I pour and return. I lean down for my “tip”, a precious kiss on my cheek. I return the favor. There will never be enough of these sweet moments with my grandfather. The kisses I give him in passing. The hugs. The “I love you”’s. Never enough. As hard as I try to convince myself that what he said to me this morning isn’t true, I know that it is. And all day I will try to keep the tears away. I have to stay strong. If I break down, we all will. And so I watch The Memory Pieces be carted off by someone else, loaded into cars. I can’t picture these things in anyone else’s home. I shouldn’t have to. I want them to stay. She tried not to cry last night when she told us that his time is short. We know it. So does she. The reality of it is too much to bear. I was kicked out of the room. I sat on the couch, eyes on the tv, mind on something totally different. My precious Poppy. What comes next?

The man that spends more of his day asleep in his chair than awake manages to stay outside all day. We know the strength he had today was a gift from God. While Danny sits up in his trailer, auctioning off the house that holds so many memories, I sit between them, holding each of their hands. As they reach a new price, I shout it out so that my grandfather can hear. I kiss their hands over and over. They’re okay. I’m not. As soon as the house is sold, I leave. I return to the house that is no longer ours and break down in the empty dining room. Moments later, mom comes in. We hold each other and cry. How can this be happening? It becomes my job to watch the house. I lock the door and turn on the television. I turn it up loud to drown out the hundreds of strangers that have come to pay too little for the things that mean so much to us. They’re loud on the yard. I want them to leave. But I can’t make them go.

Both Memaw and Poppy spend the whole day in the yard, sitting in lawn chairs, making comments about how much these people were paying for their belongings. I check on them often. I’m in charge of bringing water and coffee. I make sure they eat and are warm enough. First thing this morning it was cold. He said he didn’t need a blanket. I brought his out anyway, told him not to argue, and covered him up. I find her sun hat when she asks mid-afternoon. I follow her around and make sure she doesn’t pick up too many things to return to the house.

At 7:15, it is winding down. The dolls are the hardest to let go. We knew they would be. By the time we get to the doll table, everyone is tired. Few people are left on the lawn. We return most of them to the garage. She says she can't watch them be sold for only a few dollars. I know it is an act of defiance. She has watched too many of her precious belongings go for so little. We help her carry them back in. Everyone has a tear in their eye and no one argues when she refuses to let them go.

We order pizzas for dinner. Sarah and I go to pick them up. We eat in the nearly-empty house. Homemade chocolate pie for dessert. Sarah rose early to bake it. It was a small piece of sunshine on an otherwise dark day.

I thought about taking pictures, but when it came down to it, I didn't want to document the day. Instead, I'll share the last picture I took of my Poppy on his tractor. He will never ride that tractor again. It's been a rough day, but it's over. We made it. And by this time next week, they'll be in Michigan, which is where they need to be.

heart

2010-04-28T00:09:00.001-05:00

I wrote this post over Christmas Break. Clearly, the situation was different. It's now more like 3 months until I'll be able to return, but the sentiment is the same. I don't think I've ever posted this, so I will today. It's not necessarily relevant tonight, but it has been over the past few weeks. The hurting heart. The remembering.

My heart hurts tonight with memory. It happens sometimes. I'm struck with the memories of loneliness and hurt from high school. Then those winter nights last year alone in my dorm room with thoughts running through my mind that scared me and no one to go to about them. Then the thoughts that led to actions and the consistent repercussions this year. And my heart is heavy with the remembering.

Every thought that runs through my mind tonight is cut short by a promise from Him. "Lay your burdens down, every care you carry and come to the table of grace for there is mercy", "Come to me all who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest", "Child, you're forgiven and loved". This is new. He's granting me reprieve from destructive thoughts and habits. This has never happened before.

As I struggle to process the enormity of what I'm putting myself through, I continue to sabotage relationships. I make decisions about who can know some and who can know nothing and people get angry. I don't know what I hope to gain from it, but I know that it cannot continue. Sleep will be a long time coming as my mind races and heart aches for some semblance of normality. I miss the routine of school. I miss the expectations and the laughter. I miss the friendship and the hugs. I even miss the disappointment, a sure sign that my friends love and care about me. I'd take disappointment over this pure aloneness any day.

On nights like tonight, I slide a DVD into the side of my laptop and keep my eyes open as long as possible, for I know that when I shut them, my mind will take me to places I'd rather not go. I can take a heart heavy with memory more readily than a mind that traps me there. I think the next three weeks will creep by before I return to the life I'm comfortable with. The mistakes and the love and the disappointment and the forgiveness. The normalcy of my college life. I'm reminded so often when I'm home how vastly different it is from other schools. My friends pray for each other and sing songs about Jesus. We read our Bibles together in the library and Christmas gifts are painted canvas with favorite verses. I have never been so thankful that God led me to Harding than when I'm away.

"...let us draw near to God with a sincere heart in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience... let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for He who is promised is faithful." -Hebrews 10:22-23

why i hate weekends

2010-04-27T20:21:00.005-05:00

I hate weekends. Friday rolls around and I have a hard time tearing my eyes away from the clock. At 3:30, the kids bolt out the door, ecstatic to be free for 48 WHOLE HOURS! The teachers are happy to be away from the munchkins for 48 WHOLE HOURS! Me? Not so much.

My best friends are 600 miles away. (I know, I know. I complain about that a lot, but bear with me. This is a legit argument.) *Ahem* My best friends are 600 miles away. So what exactly am I supposed to do for 48 WHOLE HOURS! without the distraction of the precious little ones who give me hugs and draw me pictures and miss me when I leave the room? I don't get to be Miss Vick for 48 WHOLE HOURS! and I miss it. I miss the laughter at the inappropriate things that the kids write and draw in their infinite innocence. I miss their inventive spelling and their tiny hands gripping pencils and crayons. I miss their grins and silly faces when we make eye contact during the day. I miss their speech impediments that make every word that comes out of their mouth strangely hilarious.

I'll tell you what I do for the 48 WHOLE HOURS! that I'm away from my little friends. I take lots of naps. I watch lots of tv. I grade papers when I'm lucky. Sometimes I bake. Basically, I do anything I can think of to distract myself from the clock (which moves too quickly on Fridays and not at all during the 48 WHOLE HOURS! that I'm away from school).

And then it's Monday again. My alarm goes off at 7:12, and I roll out of bed. By 8:00, I'm at school and, when the bell rings at 8:50, the halls are once again flooded with laughter and chatter and the tiny little people that bring the school to life. Kids pour into room 5, rested and ready to work. I get hugs, hear stories, and am usually sick of hearing "Miss Vick" by the end of the day, but I wouldn't trade Monday for a Friday any day. For the first time in my LIFE, I hate weekends and love Mondays. When did that happen? :)

excitement

2010-04-07T19:14:00.004-05:00

Let me just tell you a little bit about my weekend.

Best. Weekend. Of. My. Life. Since. January.

It was amazing. First, we flew down to my gparents house. We had decided on like, Thursday that I was going to get to go see the girls in Spring Sing. Emily knew. No one else did. SO FUN!

So we got to my grandparents house on Thursday night. Friday, we worked on cleaning the refrigerator (I know, riveting...). Then, at about 4, we left for Searcy. I thought I was going to throw up, I was so excited.

On the way there, I texted two of my friends to let them know I was coming. One (Julya) was my RA last year. She recently got engaged, and I love her, so I needed to see her. Duh. The other (Ashley) was a girl that I love so so much. She has been such a blessing to me since I got home. She wasn't in Spring Sing so if I hadn't told her I was coming, I wouldn't have gotten to see her. Not okay. My mom went and picked up Mi Pueblito (AKA my favorite Mexican restaurant in Searcy) for dinner and we ate it in the car. I had chicken nachos. OH MY WORD. So good.

After we ate, we headed over to the Benson for the show. On the way, I ran into one of my very favorite friends Carmen. She is seriously FANTASTIC. It was completely random. She was walking out of the dorm as I was walking by and I could have cried. It was so exciting. I also got to hug my dorm mom. The little ones had been throwing up, which made me sad because I didn't want to get too close, but it was great to see them, nonetheless.

We got to the Benson, got our tickets and sat down. I told Ashley that I thought the girls would be finished about 7:30. The show started and I almost cried. Legitimately. I was shaking. My mom was basically holding me down. It was the first time I had been on campus period since February, so all of those emotions, plus the fact that I was about to see and hug ALL of my best friends, were almost too much. One of my wonderful friends Nate was a host this year, so I got to hear him sing. Goodness, this boy is fantastic. Forrealz. I love him. Anyway, the first show was the bees. They did a good job and I could pick out the few people that I knew in it. That was really fun. We were the second show. The guy next to me was scooting away from me as far as he could get because I was singing and dancing along and could NOT sit still. I was so proud of the girls.

As soon as the lights went down, I jumped across the four people next to me, stepping on toes and sitting on laps. I made it out of the aisle and RAN out of the auditorium. I stopped long enough to hug Ashley, who was waiting in the lobby, and flew down the steps to the fountain. Emily knew that's where I was going to be, so she pushed her way out of the Benson and ran to me. Once the other girls realized I was there, they ran, too. It was so much fun. It was so exciting to get to see and hug everyone and the fact that they were surprised made it FIVE HUNDRED times better. Oh, it was great. I was literally on campus for three hours. I only saw the people I ran into. It was such a blast.

We're skipping Saturday because I don't remember what happened.

Then Sunday. It was Easter, duh, so we went to church. After church, Emily was coming over to meet us and spend the day. My dad and I left church and drove to the gas station to meet her. I wasn't feeling very well. I was kind of dizzy and light-headed. I thought I maybe needed some sugar, so I asked my dad for a few dollars to get a soda. I got out of the car and my eyes started getting fuzzy and black. I made it all the way to the side of the gas station, which I ran in to because I couldn't see anything. A man asked if I was okay. I wasn't. I told him I couldn't see and asked him to help me get to a bench. He tried to help me. At some point, I heard my dad yell my name, but I'm not sure whether that was before or after I passed out. The man caught me before I hit the ground.

I woke up and couldn't open my eyes. My dad was next to me. He got me into a sitting position and was trying to get me to stand, but I still couldn't see. I told him I needed to lay down but he said the ground was dirty, so I just sat with my head on my knees. I could hear people talking around me. I knew they were calling for help, but I couldn't respond. A few minutes later, I could open my eyes and I made it into the gas station. By the time I got inside, the volunteer paramedics were there. They took my vitals and everything seemed okay. Apparently someone called 911, too because a few minutes later, an ambulance showed up. They checked all the same things and came to the same conclusion: my blood pressure was a little low, but it's normal for girls my age. Emily showed up while the paramedics were checking me out. Bless her heart. They wanted me to go to the hospital but my best friend had just gotten there and it was Easter. Heck. No.

My very first fainting experience was quite exciting, let me tell you. My entire weekend was SERIOUSLY exciting. Bah. I love these girls.

today :)

2010-03-18T20:48:00.004-05:00

Somehow, spending time with my friends gave me permission to be at home. Not permission to physically be at home. I don't really have a choice in that one. More like permission to be present at home. And I don't really understand it. But I came home much more at peace with the current situation (not happy with it, or even really okay with it, but at peace with it). It's been nice.

Today, I went to lunch with a friend. I ordered and consumed food in a crowded restaurant with a boy. That was a HUGE deal. It was overwhelming and I over-thought every step of the process, but I did it. Then, I had an appointment about another volunteer opportunity. I'm not sure whether or not I'm going to pursue it. I've got quite a bit on my plate already and I don't know that I need to add another two-three hours a week right now.

On Amazon, Photoshop 8 is on sale for SIXTY FIVE DOLLARS!! I know that's not the best editing software, but it's within my budget right now, so it'll work for a while. I'm sure I'll upgrade at some point, but I'm excited to have SOME sort of editing software on it's way!!

Tomorrow, we're going to one of the middle schools to see a production of Mulan. As one of the eight graders involved stated, "Come see Mulan if only for the hilarity of seeing 70 white kids try to act like asians!"

I'm on day 3 of the 30 day shred. I had to start over, since I definitely did NOT work out while I was on vacation. I went shopping today at Old Navy (does everyone find it as hit or miss as I do?) and bought SHORTS!!! It's been YEARS since I've been comfortable with myself to buy shorts. And we're not talking bermuda shorts either. It was so exciting.

In other news, it was 65 degrees yesterday and today, but by Saturday, it will be snowing. Welcome to the Chicagoland area, folks! We get teased with BEAUTIFUL weather and then it snows. A lot. Perfect. In fact, it was SO beautiful out today that we took the kids out for an extra recess. If the kids had on short sleeve shirts, they had to wear their jackets outside. I was wearing a short sleeve shirt but hadn't taken a jacket since it was so nice out. One of the boys said, "Well, Miss Vick, you're supposed to wear a jacket if you're wearing short sleeves and since you don't have one, you're not supposed to go outside. But you're just learning how to be a teacher, so you didn't know what was expected of you so I guess you can still come." Yeah, thanks... I was also engaged in a wonderful conversation with one of the boys about why everyone is "like, obsessed with me". He just didn't understand. HE certainly is NOT obsessed with me. But he wanted me to know that we ARE friends. This same boy later told me that if someone "triple dog dared" him, he would eat a piece of grass. He was asking for it, so I triple dog dared him. He made a big show of plucking a piece of grass and shoving it in his mouth. The other boys thought it was HILARIOUS and all grabbed a piece. It was entertaining. They all had disgusted looks on their faces when it was in their mouths, but I think they all swallowed it! We got back to the classroom and they were feeling pretty cool. They kept telling all the girls that "it didn't taste like anything!" Such show offs. Always a good story (or twelve) from first grade!!

missing

2010-03-15T20:28:00.009-05:00

Yesterday, I should have driven the last five hours back to Searcy with my best friends. Instead, my plane took off at 5:30 and now I'm home. I made it through the whole week with a PAACH (Positive Attitude And Cheerful Heart) but when my plane landed, the reality of the situation hit me again and I lost it. Here I am, 600 miles away from the people that I love. I shouldn't be here.

Today I started my online biology class while I should have been struggling to sit through Earth Science. I miss the dorm and the laughter and Spring Sing and club meetings. I'm missing a ring ceremony tonight for a girl that I love and I should be able to be there. I should be complaining about caf food and checking my mail rather than waiting for my brother to finish up my dinner. I should be struggling to get out of bed for chapel rather than sleeping until I wake up. I should be sitting next to Emily in the library laughing about her unfortunate computer situation rather than texting her about it. I should be staying up too late with my friends rather than staying up late texting them. I shouldn't have to skype them when I want to see them.

I do absolutely believe that God has a plan for the next few months. He's making me stronger and less reliant on people outside of myself. I'm learning to deal with emotions in appropriate ways. I'm growing in ways that I couldn't have grown in Searcy, but I wish I didn't have to.

BUT ANYWAY!! Enough of that :)

This past week was Harding's spring break. Had I been at school, I would have just come home. Since I was already home, I went to meet my friends. We spent a few days at twins' house in Nashville.

Then, we hopped in the car...

And headed to....

HENDERSONVILLE!!!! where we spent our days hiking...

laughing...

and taking a billion pictures!

This is from the March of the Leprechauns. It was such a joke.

Overall, we had an absolutely wonderful week. I'm in love with North Carolina and Emily's family and I loved getting to spend time with my three best friends. They're fantastic. Jicyww :)

shred

2010-03-04T19:28:00.003-06:00

Meet my new best friend

Jillian Michaels, I am counting on you. I'm going to Maui in June and need to have a body like yours for the beach. I'll give you thirty days if you can give me that. Except that I'm two days in and not really entirely sure that it's going to happen today. My mouth hurts really badly. And I'm exhausted. So maybe I'll start over tomorrow...

day

2010-03-03T13:54:00.002-06:00

Here's how my ideal day would go:

6:30- wake up

6:40- 30 Day Shred in the basement

7:00- Shower, makeup, hair

7:45- breakfast

8:00- leave for school

3:30- leave school

4:00- read, journal or some other equally productive activity

6:00- eat dinner

7:00- watch tv

9:00- go to bed

Here's how my day ACTUALLY goes:

8:58- wake up, realize alarm did not go off, freak out

9:02- shower, makeup, hair

10:17- leave for school

10:18- eat granola bar in the car

3:30- leave school

3:54- crash on the couch

6:03- wake up, freak out that entire day has been wasted and I STILL haven't worked out

7:00- eat dinner

7:40- (maybe) 30 Day Shred in the basement

8:00- watch tv, talk to friends, beach myself on the couch, do nothing productive

11:56- go to bed

Yeah, I'm really good at planning and scheduling. I'm struggling a little bit with follow through at the moment. Maybe once I get this alarm thing figured out (*ahem* remember to turn up the volume before I go to sleep...), my days will look a little more like the above example. But getting up at 6:30 to work out? I don't think that can possibly be good for me...

mail

2010-03-01T13:21:00.004-06:00

At school, I hardly ever got mail, but any time I was in the student center, I had to check. By the end of the semester, my best friends started sending me mail every couple of days so that I would have some every time I checked. Then, they started stocking my mailbox, leaving 20 notes in there at once so that I could take some out every time I checked.

Now that I'm home, getting mail means more than it ever has. Today I got a postcard from some friends overseas. I love it.

A few weeks ago, I got a package in the mail. I had received strict instructions to make a phone call before I opened it.

So I did. I tore open the package and saw the single most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life...

Yep, that's right! A letter for every single day. Some days, I even get to open two or three. And there are a few extras for days that I am especially missing them so that I can open an extra one.

This is why I have the best friends in the world. They know that I love opening mail, and so they made sure that I would have some for every single day. It's beautiful :)

laugh

2010-02-23T16:15:00.005-06:00

I'm in love with first grade. These children have me laughing (either with them or at them) all day long. I'm going to keep a running list of the things that are said in the classroom because they seriously crack me up.

Karin: "How are you doing, Miss Vick? Are you driving you away yet?"

Me: "Not quite!"

G: panicked look- "Miss Vick, I don't want you to drive away!"

Cl: "I'm going to use these colors to try to make clear!" (holds up black, gray and yellow crayons)

T: "Well, there are four of those math things in every fact family"

Karin: "Math facts?"

T: "Oh, yeah. Math facts"

Random first grader from another class: "Who's your daughter?"

Me: "My daughter?"

First grader: "umm yeah?"

Me: "I don't have a daughter..."

E: "Yeah, Miss Vick! You're a mom!!"

Me: "No, E. I am definitely NOT a mom."

E: "Yeah! Somebody told me you're a mom!!"

...conversation continues...until FINALLY...

R: "E, Miss Vick CAN'T be a mom because she's a MISS!! Mrs. are married but Miss means they're not married, so if Miss Vick isn't married, she CAN'T be a mom!!"

Me: "Yep, R. You are exactly right. I'm not married so I definitely cannot be a mom"

Okay, you know that Cadillac commercial with the song? It's this one. Anyway, we were in art the other day and that song came on and D goes, "Ugh. This commercial is SOO annoying. It's not like I'm going to buy a car..." Yeah, D. It's not like you're seven or anything...

alc

2010-01-15T23:42:00.003-06:00

Let me define "Awkward Lobby Couple" (ALC) for you...just in case there's any confusion...which there seems to be.

1. PDA of any kind (including but not limited to: kissing, rubbing, holding hands, awkwardly long eye contact and sitting on each other) is awkward.

2. Fighting in the lobby is awkward.

3. Overly ridiculous proclamations of love are awkward.

4. Sitting and not speaking is awkward.

5. Sitting in the lobby for longer than an hour (especially as long as 8 hours) is so awkward.

6. Singing together, watching movies together, or listening to music on a computer while sharing headphones is awkward.

7. Laying on each other is awkward.

8. If the boy is waiting in the lobby for longer than 15 minutes, it becomes awkward.

Basically, if you're dating and not just doing homework together, you are an awkward lobby couple. And at the first sign of PDA, you are automatically labeled as such. Please keep this mind when choosing to congregate in the Kendall lobby. Just remember that we judge you. And talk about you long after you've gone. And chances are, if you're an awkward lobby couple who spends a lot of time there, we probably have a nickname for you that we use in public. Possibly even in front of you. Thank you, and have a great night.

florida

2009-12-26T21:18:00.004-06:00

Holy

2009-12-24T23:16:00.003-06:00

O holy night, the stars are brightly shining;
It is the night of the dear Savior's birth!
Long lay the world in sin and error pining,
Till He appeared and the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope, the weary soul rejoices,
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.

Fall on your knees, O hear the angel voices!
O night divine, O night when Christ was born!
O night, O holy night, O night divine!

Led by the light of faith serenely beaming,
With glowing hearts by His cradle we stand.
So led by light of a star sweetly gleaming,
Here came the wise men from Orient land.
The King of kings lay thus in lowly manger,
In all our trials born to be our friend!

Fall on your knees, O hear the angel voices!
O night divine, O night when Christ was born!
O night, O holy night, O night divine!

Truly He taught us to love one another;
His law is love and His Gospel is peace.
Chains shall He break for the slave is our brother
And in His Name all oppression shall cease.
Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we,
Let all within us praise His holy Name!

Fall on your knees, O hear the angel voices!
O night divine, O night when Christ was born!
O night, O holy night, O night divine!

remembering

2009-12-21T09:44:00.006-06:00

On December 21, 2004, Jo Ellen Allbright Vick danced into heaven. I never saw my grandmother walk. By the time I was born, the arthritis had stripped her of that ability. She came for Christmases when we lived in Dallas and sent birthday cards every year. By the end, a scribbled signature was all she could manage at the bottom of our cards, but she never forgot.

I found out that my beloved grandmother had passed away in O'Hare Airport. Every time I walk past that Starbucks, my eyes fill with tears. I'll never forget that moment. Mom got a phone call, closed her eyes and said "Thank you for telling me." She didn't have to say anything else. I ran through the airport, tears streaming down my cheeks. I had been in denial up until that moment. I had refused to pack nice clothes for our cross-country trip. I had made her snowflakes out of folded paper to hang in her room since snow is scarce in West Texas, even at Christmas time. I wrote her letters and sent a couple with my dad. He was with her. We didn't make it in time.
I placed the snowflakes next to her body on December 23. She looked so peaceful. I had never seen her without pain. In the next few days, we went to the nursing home to go through some of her belongings. Next to her bed sat two small crosses. I knew she could always see them. Of all the things we found in her home, those were all I wanted. I carried one with me for years. It was always in a jacket pocket or purse. They sit next to my bed, now, a reminder of a woman who always smiled despite the immense pain and discomfort caused by her arthritis.

Mimi Jo loved everyone with all of her heart and never complained about anything. She was genuinely happy to see everyone who set foot in her home and trusted that her Jesus would bring her through anything. She was only 62 years old when she went Home. She has a grandson who won't remember her and a granddaughter on the way who she will never have the pleasure of spoiling. It brings me such joy to know that my grandmother is in Heaven today without pain.

update

2009-11-23T23:51:00.007-06:00

I've started five posts in the past few weeks. I don't know how to finish any of them, so I'm going to leave them for a while. I'll figure it out eventually.

I'm doing this new thing. It's called loving life. I'm really a fan. God has totally blessed me. It's been really amazing for me to experience. He has opened my eyes to friends and opportunities. I recently hit #400 in my gratitude journal, which has been an awesome experience in and of itself. I think laughter in some form is in there at least 6 times. It's been a long time since I've laughed enough to be thankful for it.

I just can't believe the ways that God has been answering my prayers. First, he brought me friends. Lots of them. Friends that love me and hug me and call me. A very best friend. We say that we're the same person about 30 times a day, and it's pretty much true.

He has brought me rest and peace and joy. And I have seen prayers answered more than I have in years.

I feel like things have changed completely since the beginning of the semester. I was lonely and anxious and had rules for everything. I can eat in the caf now. I still have some anxiety about eating in front of boys, but God has removed the bulk of the anxiety. None of the "rules" still apply. And now God has shown me that he is capable of anything.

Almost exactly two months ago, I wrote a post called "lonely". I can honestly say that everything that I wrote in that post has changed. I will remember this semester for the laughter and the friendship and the irony. For things like "yuh-ee", "isgusting" and "NAD". For the boys that I'm never allowed to talk to again and the girls that I couldn't imagine my life without. For the "ice" skating on the front lawn, greek salads and tacky sweaters. Pledge week, Berryhill Park and Christmas cards. And really, the list goes on and on. Things from my past have come back bite me in the rear. Mistakes have been made again. But there's a difference. This time, there's redemption and hope and forgiveness where before there was only hurt and regret and reprimands. My God is so good.

The Lord your God is with you, He is MIGHTY to save. He will take great delight in you, He will quiet you with His love, He will rejoice over you with singing.

-Zephaniah 3:17

exchange

2009-10-14T23:06:00.004-05:00

Tuesdays have quickly become my favorite day of the week. I've only been three times, but I feel like I've gone there forever. The singing and shouting and prayer that fills the room is incredible. I have cried tears of gratitude for the joy that fills hearts. I leave completely at peace. I can't wipe the smile off my face. My God meets me there. He speaks to my soul. I leave feeling refreshed. It's an experience that I really can't describe. He has used it to free me from bondage. I don't think I'll ever be able to express to the people who make it happen how much it means to me. It's comfortable and it takes me completely out of my comfort zone. I raise my hands in worship. I've never done that before. I whisper prayers out loud. I've never done that before, either. The freedom is overwhelming. There is no judgement. It's incredible. Seriously. That's the only word I have to describe it.

I long for the assurance that I feel in that place every day of the week. Assurance that I am not crazy or alone. Assurance that my Jesus lives. I feel it. I feel Him. I needed a place like that. And I've been presented with one.On one hand, I want to share it with everyone, but on the other, I want it to remain a personal experience. I know a few of the people that go, but I don't ever want to be self conscious. That's not at all what it's about. In fact, it's about the complete opposite. The Exchange is about being God conscious. It's about being open to Him and what He wants from us. It's about being open with Him.

This is what I wrote in my journal this week. I don't have the right words to explain it. This is the best I could do.

The hugging begins before we get through the door. It is the accepted and expected greeting in this place. The room is dark and loud. Meaningful conversations are heard from every group. Little girls gather up front, ready to dance while little boys find a row to sit in together. College students hold babies while their parents sit and talk among themselves. 7:15. Music starts. Eyes close. Hands raise. Clapping. Jumping. Singing. Dancing. Praise. God is in this place. Everyone feels Him here. Hearts fill. Joy overwhelms. Laughter. Some whisper Jesus' name while other shout Amen. Babies crawl. Children dance. Adults fall to their knees in prayer. Freedom abounds in the place. Freedom from chains and freedom to worship in any way. Dancing, shouting, singing and clapping are acceptable here. It's like nothing we've ever experienced, but it feels like home.

tuesday

2009-10-01T11:09:00.005-05:00

For the past 72 hours, my heart has been calm. I have been overwhelmed with a peace that I can't understand. On Tuesday night, I was invited to The Exchange. I really don't even know how to describe it other than beautiful worship. I felt Jesus like I have never felt Him before. I walked through the door into a barely-lit room full of believers. I got chills. Before anything happened, I had goosebumps. And then we started singing. We sang beautiful, passionate songs. With tears in my eyes and raised hands, I praised my Jesus. Determined to hold it together, I stood quietly for a minute. We sang "How Great is Our God". I gave up. I was overcome with Jesus. I cried. The tears of rejection and worthlessness and loneliness ran hot down my cheeks. They fell to the floor. And so did the anxiety. I have never in my life worshipped like I did on Tuesday night. I have never known Jesus to be so real as I did in that place. We were free to sing and pray and praise however God asked us to. It was absolutely incredible. He was there. I felt Him. I begged him to help me remember the way that it felt to be in His presence. And He has.

After Tuesday night, I was convinced that this week was going to be rough. Satan is dumb. He likes to strike when we're ahead. And I was feeling great. I woke up yesterday morning with a feeling of calm. I was overwhelmed with peace. I looked at him, stared at him really, and felt nothing. My conversations with people were meaningful. I was calm. My attitude was great. I was happy and absolutely content.

Today, it is more of the same. I have been finding passages in my Bible that speak to me. Psalm 91, Psalm 18, Ephesians 6. Every time I open my Bible, God is revealing His love and promises for me. I am overwhelmed with Him. My journal entries for this week have been happy and refreshing. I have found it easier to pray to Him and ask Him to guide me. On Tuesday night, I begged Him to teach me to trust Him. I begged Him to remind me that He loves me regardless of the things in my past. He has been. This week has been incredible. After the frustration and loneliness of last week, this is exactly what my spirit needed.

truth

2009-09-18T17:41:00.006-05:00

Truth: The Lord your God is with you. He is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you. he will quiet you with His love. He will rejoice over you with singing. -Zephaniah 3:17

Truth: Those who sow in tears will reap with songs of joy. -Psalm 126:5

Truth: I will turn their mourning into gladness; I will give them comfort and joy instead of sorrow. - Jeremiah 31:13b

Truth: Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning. Great is Your faithfulness! -Lamentations 3:22-23

Truth: Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life. -Proverbs 4:23

Truth: Now glory be to God, who by this mighty power at work within you is able to do far more than you would ever dare ask or even dream of. Infinitely beyond your highest prayers, desires, thoughts or hope. -Ephesians 3:20-21

Truth: He has made everything beautiful in its time -Ecclesiastes 3:11

Truth: We also rejoice in our sufferings because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, becaue God has poured out His love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom He has given us. -Romans 5:3-5

Truth: But those who wait on the Lord will renew their strength; they will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint. -Isaiah 40:31

Truth: Apart from me, you can do nothing. -John 15:5

Truth: Savior, He can move the mountains. -Mighty to Save by Hillsong

Truth: Please be still and know that I Am God. -Peace be Still by Rush of Fools

Truth: You have calmed greater waters. Higher mountains have come down. -The Valley Song by Jars of Clay

Truth: My sin, not in part but the whole, was nailed to the cross and I bear it no more. Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, oh my soul! -It Is Well With My Soul by Horatio Spafford

Truth: And He will fill your mouth with laughter and your lips with shouts of joy! -Job 8:21

project

2009-09-16T11:13:00.005-05:00

I'm working on a project. I like it a lot. We'll call it my truth journal. Really, it's a journal of truth and lies, but the truth is all that matters. Anyway, I got the idea from my conversations with a woman that I love. For me, it's about being proactive. It's good for me to be able to open a journal and see the lies that I've been told and believed. So here's the process:

1) Pray. I open my heart to God and ask Him to reveal to me where I've allowed Satan's voice to creep in more loudly than His. This is a very important first step.

2) Write the word "lie". I write it five times on my page. I skip a few lines in between, but I always do five at a time. Sometimes, it's a struggle to come up with five. Sometimes, my heart is overflowing with the identification of lies that I've been told. Of course, if I'm writing and God has put more than five lies on my heart, I will write them all.

3) Start at the top. I write down the lies that God shows me. Sometimes they surprise me. Sometimes they seem too obvious. But I write everything that is put on my heart.

4) Reflect. I look back on the things that have been revealed to me. I pray over each one and ask God to remove the lies from my thoughts. I ask Him to help me identify when I'm giving into the lies.

5) Find the truth. I open His word. Sometimes, this part of the process doesn't come until later. I have entire pages filled with scripture. I write the promises that He has given me. Sometimes, the truth is a direct contradiction to one of my lies. In that case, I write it on the same page. It's comforting to know that when I'm starting to believe one of the lies, I can open my journal and find God's truth for my life.

This has been one of the most powerful exercises I have ever done. I try to find the time to write some every day. Sometimes they're lies that seem so obvious and small, but if Satan can use it to pull the darkness around me again, I want them on paper. I'm loving my truth journal and the fact that it gets me in my Bible every day. It's an awesome long-term project. I can't wait to see where God takes this!

thankful

2009-09-12T23:27:00.007-05:00

I am so thankful for the people that God has put in my life. I am blessed to have professors and friends who really actually care about me. It's new. I like it. There are people here who know me. They allow me to be honest about the way that I'm feeling even if it doesn't make sense. I know that it doesn't make sense that I still want attention from him. It doesn't matter here. There are people here who love me and tell me that they do. I think that's the biggest thing. My friends at home never tell me that they love me. And that's fine. Sometimes they show me that they love me. But my friends here tell me every time we talk. They hug me. A lot. They're patient and understanding. It's all new. They tell me I'm pretty. They pray for me. I have healthy relationships for the first time in my life and I love it. I'm thankful for them.

I am so thankful for the experiences that God has given me. He brought me to Harding. I know a lot of people may not be able to understand. All they see is the curfew and dress code and chapel requirements, but they don't understand how important Harding is to me. I complain about it sometimes, but I love it more than I could ever express. It's normal for me to go out on the front lawn and read my Bible. It's normal for me to tell my friends that I'm praying for them. God has blessed me with the opportunity to grow. He has blessed me with the opportunity to learn to be content. He has blessed me with the opportunity to be hurt and to bounce back with the help of my friends. He has allowed me to see how important other people are in the healing process. He allowed me to travel to London this summer where I was blessed to be surrounded by some of the most important people in my life. Whether they know it or not, their continued love and patience has blessed me beyond belief.

I am thankful that I don't know what dorm he lives in or when he has classes. I'm thankful that I only ever have to see him at soccer games and football games. I'm thankful that my friends are understanding and don't mind when I talk about him.

I'm thankful for the dorm that I live in. I love my room. It's comfortable and already feels like home. I have covered the walls in His word, pictures of family and friends and postcards from my dad. I love my RA. I love my dorm mom. I am so blessed by both of them. God knew what he was doing when he put me here. I want to live in Kendall forever. I am so thankful for that.

I am thankful for the life that I'm living even if I'm not always happy with it. I'm learning to be content with the situations that God gives me. I get frustrated sometimes when things don't go the way I want them to, but He is showing me that He remains in control. I'm thankful that He is.

regret

2009-08-24T20:13:00.006-05:00

Regret is my biggest enemy. I don't know why it is that I can remember every single thing that I have ever done wrong in my entire life. In seventh grade, there was this boy that I liked. One day, I hugged him. The end. I can remember things as far back as second grade that embarrassed me. Things that I regret. And then there are the big ones. There are things that have happened in the past 12 months that I regret more than anything that has ever happened in my life. It's a constant nagging in my soul. A constant "told you so". So many people told me not to do it. I think I needed to in a way. I just wish it didn't hurt so much.

The enemy knows that he can get me with regret. He knows that he can make my heart hurt with the things that I have said and done and thought. He uses it to get to me in the dark of night when my mind takes me back to those places. And on the nights when I'm alone in my room. And on the nights that one of the babies is sick. And on the nights that I'm lonely and sad. And on the nights that I'm scared to death about what comes next. And then someone will text me or I'll look up and see a picture of a friend who loves me or I'll happen to check a blog that speaks to me (which, by the way, was Ellyn's blog tonight. Wow). The enemy cannot defeat me. He knows how to get me, but I'm cherished by a God more powerful than him. He knows where I hurt, but it doesn't matter, because so does my Jesus. My Jesus died on a cross for me. He died on a cross for my pain and my sin. Mine. And there is absolutely nothing that anyone can do to take that away. So no matter how much it hurts to be reminded of the things that I regret, it's a million times better to be reminded that I've been forgiven for them by my Creator. Take that.

enough

2009-08-22T19:12:00.004-05:00

I couldn't begin to count the number of times in my life when I have felt or been told that I was not good enough. Dance classes, soccer and basketball games, the cafeteria at school, church, graduation day, the dorms, chapel, Bible classes, and other every day events. I don't know where this feeling came from. I've spent enough time in therapy over the years to be aware that everything I feel and believe now came from a comment or experience from my past. But that's not important here.

"By the grace of God, I am what I am" - 1 Corinthians 15:10

But am I good enough? I've always struggled with feelings of inferiority. I'll never be as skinny or pretty as the girl next to me. I'll never be able to paint or sing or dance as well as someone else. I'm constantly comparing myself to others. I'm conscious of what others are thinking about me. And in my head, it's always negative. My friends never want me around. Boys think I'm fat and ugly. The adults at church know I'm not "good enough" to be there.

I find value in negative situations because it makes me feel good enough. And I know that is ridiculous.

This morning in the devotional, we sang Here In This Place. I love that song. I don't know if I loved it before this morning, but I love it now.

Lay your burdens down

Every care you carry,

And come to the table of grace,

For there is mercy.

Come just as you are,

We are all unworthy

To enter the presence of God

For He is Holy.

Lift up your heart, lift up your hands

Fall on your knees and pray,

For the King of kings and the love He brings

Is here in this place.

We raise our voices, raise our song,

We offer Him out praise

For the King of kings and the joy He brings

Is here, He is here in this place.

Isn't that awesome? I love it. Two sweet women that I appreciate and love have gently reminded me recently that we're not good enough. We're not good enough for God to love or even look at. But the grace of the blood of Jesus Christ on the cross covers us. So maybe I'm not pretty enough or skinny enough. And maybe my dancing will never make anyone happy besides myself. And that's okay. Because the blood of my Savior covers me. And His Spirit fills me. And that is good enough.

running

2009-08-12T23:23:00.008-05:00

The more that I think about it, the more ironic it becomes that I've started running this summer. It's not necessarily ironic in the haha that's funny kind of way. It's more of an I run away from everything but this time I can't so I'm actually physically running kind of way. I have a history of running away when things get tough. I've decided more than once that it was easier to stop talking to someone than to work through things with them. I run away from difficult situations. I run from awkward situations. I always run away. And this time, I would love to run away more than anything else. But I can't. Because that would mean transferring...an idea that I am not particularly fond of. I'm finally content with where I am (see this post) and I hate the thought of giving it all up because of it. This is one thing that I can't run away from. It's making me physically sick to think about what will happen when the encounter actually occurs. I can't breathe. I get nauseous. I want to run away more than anything else. But running away this time would mean giving up everything else. So I run. Physically run. This summer, I started running. This summer, when it became apparent to me that I would have to face one of the most difficult challenges thus far, I started running. My feet pound on the treadmill. I can't run fast enough to get away from the thoughts swirling in my mind. I run fast but go nowhere. I cant run away, and so I run. Ironic.

dance

2009-07-24T23:21:00.004-05:00

I danced for a long time before I realized that I wasn't cut out to be a dancer. Seriously, like, a lot of years. I just love it SOO much that I don't want to admit that I'm just not good. Now that I'm not dancing, I miss it. I miss it so much, in fact, that every week while I watch So You Think You Can Dance, I cry. Every week. I have every single episode saved and I have three favorite dances (Travis' If It Kills Me from last week, Battlefield from this week and the breast cancer one from this week) that I have watched fifteen times in the past 48 hours. That is, sadly, not an exaggeration. And last week, there were different dances that I watched over and over and over. And every time I cry. Every. Single. Time. I so wish that dance was one of those things that if you tried hard enough you could just be good at it. But it isn't. I wish I could start dancing now and get to be good enough at it. But I can't. And so I cry every Wednesday night for two hours while I watch a slowly declining number of dancers be something that I wish that I could be.

On a totally separate note, I dropped a five pound weight on my foot yesterday. It really hurts. And my foot is very bruised.

i need to do something...

2009-06-28T18:17:00.008-05:00

So I have this friend. Her name is Erin. She is wonderful. She got married a little over a year ago and just moved down to Texas to start a summer camp. I love her very much. And I really want her to have a baby...

Anyway, Erin and I were talking not long ago. We hadn't talked in a while so it was GREAT to get to catch up with her! We were talking about life and how I feel like I really need to DO something...something that matters. I don't know exactly what it is. For a while, I wanted to go to Africa. I'm not really sure about that one anymore. I thought maybe I wanted to go work at E's camp. That one's still a possibility. But maybe I'd like to just work at Uplift at school next summer. I've been looking at everyone's pictures from Uplift. I think I could do that. I need to feel like I have a purpose. I need to feel like I'm here for a reason. I want to be a part of something bigger. But I just don't know what to do. What's realistic? I mean, it doesn't necessarily have to be something huge. I think working at VBS counts. I'll be doing that in July. I'm going to have to work on this a little bit. It's like that song by Lady Antebellum...I Was Here. Have you heard it? It's a really good one.

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This morning at 8:00, I had my very first workout session with my new best friend Bob. Bob kind of kicked my butt. It was great. Tomorrow morning at 9:30, I'll be heading back over to Lifetime to run with Bob. We'll see how that goes. I am so NOT a runner, but I have to get into shape!! Bob is a running machine. Hopefully he can help me learn to love to run. I'm a little skeptical...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

This afternoon, Mom and I are going to look at paint colors for "my" new room. This room, by the way, is not mine. Mom told me I could do whatever I wanted to and then picked out all of my bed linens for me. I guess it's fine. I mean, I'm not going to be in this room very long. I'll only be here until August and then home twice a semester until next summer. A white comforter is just fine. I kind of just want her to pick the paint color on her own. I don't really care that much.

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It's official! All 23 of us are back in America! The last few free travelers came home yesterday. I haven't talked to them since they've been home, but I am certainly hoping that their flights home were less eventful than mine was! Being delayed in a London airport for five hours was not my idea of a fun way to spend my last day in my new favorite city in the world. I miss everyone. It's such a weird feeling because I was with all of them all day every day for a month and now I really don't even talk to them. But here we (almost) all are at the top of the Wallace Monument in Stirling! We climbed 246 stairs for this picture.

Jesus lives in scotland

2009-06-08T15:54:00.007-05:00

We had a four hour drive today from York to Scotland. I slept for a while and woke up when we crossed the border. I had my iPod in and just watched out the window as we drove through the incredibly green country. I was overwhelmed. The beauty and simplicity of the landscape was beyond words. I couldn't stop thinking about what Angie Smith (yeah, I read her blog a lot) said when she was in Ireland. As she admired the incredibly vibrant green of the land, she heard God speak. "It takes a lot of rain to make grass this green." Those words were so significant to her as she went through what she did with Audrey and, when I read them the first time, I realized how significant they are for me, too. There has been a lot of rain in my life. More than I would have liked there to have been. I looked out the window today and the greenest green I have ever seen and was reminded of those words. I was struck with this thought, an epiphany maybe, clarity for sure. I am so burdened by this sin. It hurts me and it haunts me and I can't stop thinking about it and dwelling on it, but the God of this universe has already forgiven it. It has no power over me. He isn't holding it over my head. He didn't think twice about it. When I asked Him for forgiveness, He gave it. No question. And if He can forgive me for it, why am I still GIVING it power? Seriously. I don't know why it hit me at that moment, on that loud, crazy bus, but I am so grateful that it did. And then Beautiful Lord came on and I lost it. Cried. On the bus. Oh it just felt so good to be able to cry and pray and thank Him for reminding me that the power that this sin is holding over me is power that I am giving it. I think He might be sad that I am still hurting. I think He might be disappointed that I'm still dwelling on it. But I know that He is there. He's been there all along, hasn't He? Scotland, I love you for so many reasons. You are beautiful and peaceful and incredible. And you brought me back to the One who's been waiting for too long.

When the storm is raging all around me
You are the peace that calms
My troubled sea
And the cares of this world
Darken my day
You are the light that shines
And shows me the way

Oh, the beauty of Your majesty
On the cross You showed Your love for me!

Beautiful Lord
Awesome and mighty
I’m captured by this love I see
Beautiful Lord
Tender and holy
Your mercy brings me to my knees
It’s Your mercy that has made me free
Beautiful Lord

When my sin is all that I can see
Your grace remains the shelter that I seek
And when my weakness is all I can give
Your gentle Spirit gives me strength again
And oh, the beauty of Your majesty
On the cross You showed Your love for me

Beautiful Lord
Awesome and mighty
I’m captured by this love I see
Beautiful Lord
Tender and holy
Your mercy brings me to my knees
It’s Your mercy that has made me free
Beautiful Lord

And I am lifted by Your love to sing!
It’s Your mercy that has made me free!
And I am lifted by Your love to sing!
It’s Your mercy that has made me free!

Oh, the beauty of Your majesty
On the cross You showed Your love for me!

Beautiful Lord
Awesome and mighty
I’m captured by this love I see
Beautiful Lord
Tender and holy
Your mercy brings me to my knees
It’s Your mercy that has made me free
Beautiful Lord

You’re beautiful, my Lord
You’re beautiful, my Lord

Hyde Park

2009-05-31T09:36:00.011-05:00

I have started this post at least five times. I can't find the words to describe the most incredible place on this earth. It's called Hyde Park. As I walk out of the tube station, this feeling of calm overwhelms me. I love it. I really honestly can't tell you what it means to me. There are no words. If you are ever in London, it is the only place that I will tell you that you have to go. I don't know what it is about it- it really is just a giant park- but it is the most peaceful place I have ever been. Rather than try to tell you about it, I'll just show you a few of the hundred and fifty pictures that I've taken there in the past two days. No joke. I'm in love.

London

2009-05-27T17:11:00.005-05:00

Right now, it is 11:11 at night. I am sitting in the living room of my flat. We just got home from seeing Jersey Boys (AMAZING, by the way). I should be in bed. I have a workout class at 8, chapel at 10 and class at 10:30, but I'm just so very awake. We're on the third floor, but the noises from the city creep in through the windows. London. My home. The city is so alive. We make friends everywhere we go. How can two countries that share a language be so incredibly different? I don't understand. But I see it everywhere. The people are friendly. They ask where we're from as soon as a conversation starts. They walk everywhere. Seriously. It's insane. But I love it. I hear a skateboard outside. A lively group just walked by, probably going home from a pub. Barcelona played Man U tonight. It was a disappointing game for all of the adoring Manchester fans in my flat. Flat Five. That's where I live. With five girls that I didn't know before we landed in London two weeks ago. I love these girls. We're living on the edge of the theatre district. We can walk to almost all of the theatres. Tonight was Jersey Boys. We've also seen Chicago and Spring Awakening. Tomorrow, we're going to Wicked. Such incredible opportunities for us. We have classes. Believe it or not, class in London isn't any better than class in Searcy. It is so worth it. Living in London. What an incredible gift.