because He can...

still good

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

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

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

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

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

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.