Forgiveness

Maybe the real point of forgiveness isn't other people. I mean, we talk about setting them free and letting it go, but maybe forgiveness is ultimately about me, and it's about you. It's about us. Because when I forgive somebody and I set them free, it's like I'm really setting myself free. It's like when I forgive them and let them off the hook, I'm really letting myself off the hook. If I'm still carrying all that stuff around, it's a miserable... it's a miserable way to live. I mean, I don't know what you're carrying around, or how long you've been carrying it around... but as we journey through life, we get hurt and we get wounded, and we end up carrying these debts that people owe us. It's like we carry them with us everywhere we go. And after a while, these bags get heavy, don't they? And they can end up making the journey exhausting.

God didn't create you to carry that stuff around! God created you to be free, free from bitterness, free from rage and anger and revenge... free from feeling like you're the judge of the world. I mean, what does it look like for you to just let it go?

-Rob Bell

myspace profile

so i had/have myspace. but i never use it anymore. it was more of a middle school thing. now i only visit myspace to see artists pages, which i don't need to sign in for, so i never sign in.

well, today i did. and this was what i had written on it. thought it was cool, i cut it and pasted it here. i now have nothing on my myspace, but it really doesn't matter. check out my profile:

i don't like eating fish but for some reason i don't mind the smell of it. i think because it reminds me of the ocean. i love the beach. it's my favorite place in the world. so relaxing and peaceful, and at the same time so exciting and full of life. and colorful. i love colors. bright colors. and i love designing things. even though i'm not very good at it. i like painting my toenails but hate painting my fingernails. hands are the coolest part of the human body. they make me marvel at God's creation. i love the creativity of God. and God in general. we're BFF. and someday he's gonna save this world. :) a lot of people don't know this, but i actually really like poetry. i read it in my free time. and i journal a lot. and i don't mind writing. unless it's something pointless for a class that i hate and want to be done with as soon as possible. (can i get an amen?!) hehe. i love performing on stage. i love making other people happy. that's why i work at customer service, i guess. laughter keeps me going on days when i feel like quitting. i could not survive without my friends. i love them so much. friends are real treasures in life. don't wait until your last few months of high school to realize this. petty fights and drama are not all worth the time everyone seems to allot them. i don't waste my time with people i don't want to be with. but i don't spend enough time with the people i do want to get to know better. i text way too much. and i hang out with my sisters way too little. i love my family. my dad is the best role model i could ask for, and my mom is the most amazing woman you'll ever meet. plus, i have two awesome sisters who are a blast to be around 24/7. i'm a goofball.

but i love serenity and most of the time would prefer to be by myself than out and about. i like reading, but i'd rather go for a run or a bike ride. i used to roller blade every day after school for hours. I LOVE MUSIC! i listen to it almost all the time. i do have favorite bands (switchfoot!) but i actually like a LOT of different kinds of music. like classical, for instance. weird, i know. i just recently started to like classical. and i love techno/electronica, and of course rock. not so much country, but i've found some good ones, thanks to a couple cool friends. and most rap songs make me throw up. i LOVE to travel! and i really want to backpack around the world someday. but i love even taking simple weekend trips just to see something new. i love experiencing new things and if i could have my way, i'd probably never do anything twice. tight schedules are suffocating. i work at a grocery store. ha! i love riding roller coasters. i love taking risks. i really like my life in this small town i grew up in. and i wouldn't change any part of it for the world.

H2IK

AJ once told me that the idea of a man knowing everything about something is folly. His word, not mine. He said that man, by his very nature, is dependant on other men. We need each other to survive. The problem is getting anybody to admit that. As a species, we pride ourselves on being self-sufficient. Why ask a stranger for directions? We’d rather stay stubborn and lost.

Like it or not, man by his very nature is dependant on other men. We call ourselves explorers… independent… courageous… but what are we without the support of our brothers? I mean, how far do we truly get if we try to do everything alone? When the simplest, smallest thing can drag the whole world around you to a halt, I want peace of mind. I want to rely on my brother. And know that he’ll find the wrench if I don’t.

Crossing the Rubicon

"PNR. Point of No Return. It sounds simple. You step across the line, and you focus only on the way ahead. No going back. Sounds like a good way to live life. Look only ahead. Put the bad stuff behind you and move on. But that's impossible. Your past always finds you. Even when you think you've let it go.

During the days of the Roman Republic, crossing the Rubicon River with an army was considered an act of war. In 49 BC, Julius Caesar ignored that law. He made the choice to cross the river... leading to civil war, the end of the republic and his own deification.

Passing the point of no return doesn't just happen. It's a choice we make. A line we decide to cross. And, we live with the consequences.

There are no promises of a positive outcome. No guarantees that, like Caesar, we'll end up with an empire. All we can really count on is that things will change, and that we'll live with the results.

And that's the hard part, because we're defined by our past. We can rethink our choices a million times, but what we decide becomes a part of who we are. And while we may be crossing the river... our footprints will always remain on the other side."

- James Parriott

Insomnia

I can't sleep.

It's a lot of pressure to know that when I fall asleep, my summer ends.

I don't want it to. At all. I do not want to go back to school. (And that is why I will not post this blog on the RWC Student Blogger website for all the incoming freshie's to read.)

I think it is a bit abnormal... that I don't want to go back to college. I mean, everyone around me is ecstatic to get back to the life of a poor student, living in mediocre housing, surrounded by friends, fried food and frisbees. And it's really not a bad life, when you think about it... we don't have too many concerns, besides our classes and grades... College students are the ones that take road trips and make the funniest YouTubes. We have the capability to do anything and boundaries are few. No parents around, no grandmothers around... no teacher I had in second grade will run into me at the grocery store and shake her head, "Tsk, tsk, tsk," as I ride by on the back of a shopping cart. Everyone will just smile and think, "She's from the college."

And that's cool. It's fun, and liberating, and independent, and I get that. I really do.

But my dorm smells weird.

It does, it has this faint, like rubbery, smell to it... a brush between clean linoleum floors and Salvation Army toy box.

And my dog, he doesn't come up to lick my feet when I'm studying. My friends in New York, they don't know about the Mill Road playground, and how the kickball games are top of line... better than East High. Or that Dave Darrenkamp bummed a cigarette off Britany Nolan and I just about died laughing. They haven't seen my Mom come home from work with 25 pounds of paperwork in her arms and a laptop over her shoulder and a purse on her other and a drink balanced on top and immediately ask, "Do you need anything??" before she even sets her stuff down. New Yorkers rarely get into Phillies games, either.

I guess it must be a bit normal, then. To not want to go back. I hate leaving my family, my house, my old friends. But it's not just that... it was this summer.

This

summer

was

awesome.

It's because of the incredible time I had the past 3 or 4 months that makes me treasure all the things I have at home even more. It really flew by. I mean, REALLY flew by... which is weird, because for being my fastest summer ever, it was also my longest. (Instead of starting in June, this one started in May... but I would've loved if it started in March. Or last November.) I realized how much I needed this break once I got back to PA. Like, really needed it. I was overwhelmed by change, I needed to catch my breath, talk with some old high school homies before picking up the race again. I'm in the middle of this life-changing environment with new people and new lessons and new places, and I'm taking it all in, trying to comprehend it all, allowing it to change certain views and certain attitudes... it's like I'm on a train ride, a wicked fast one... and we're at a stop and I suddenly remember, I wasn't always on this train... I get off and talk to some old friends, see if I'm doing alright, how they're doing on their train rides... and then the conductor blows the whistle... and we're off again.

Well, darn it, I liked that rest stop.

This summer I had the chance to get to know some really great people, witness my friends' change and grow, have incredible spontaneous adventures with old and new pals, week after week... climbing mountains and having picnics and walking boardwalks and watching sunsets and screaming during power outages and sitting around campfires and holding hands in the dark and playing guitar and taking road trips and sitting on sand... and packing suitcases... and hugging goodbye... and not knowing what it will be like when I come back. That, that is the worst part.

"The right thing isn't always the easiest." My mom said that tonight. She's a brilliant young woman, my mom. I'll get back on the train. And once again be thrown at new people, and new lessons and new places... and I'll be able to handle it. Just like I did before. Summer is ending. I get it. And I'll move on.

But not without a fight.

Bethany.

So I haven’t blogged all summer. This is quite unfortunate, because it’s been a real darn hootin’ good time and I’m sure ANY reader would be ECSTATIC to hear about it, but also fortunate, because it’s evidence that I have better things to do with my time than sit in front of a computer. Until now, obviously… while I don’t even have access to the Internet. So I’m typing this out on Word, and will probably publish it either tomorrow or never.

I don’t know how many blogs I’ve come up with in my head while I shower. Probably somewhere around 32. It’s become somewhat part of my shower routine now. I just never write ‘em down. But lately I’ve been coming up with a list. A list I really like. A list I’d rather not forget. Hence what you’re reading now. (Err, later. Well, you’ll get to it.)

If you don’t Facebook stalk or hang out with me often, then you probably don’t even know that I’m at the beach this week. Yes, that’s right, THE BEACH. You know, that sunny, sandy, wet place that has attracted inlanders to its shores for thousands of years… blessing local teenage boys with summer jobs as heroic lifeguards who basically sit and tan for weeks and millions of teenage girls a reason to eat only lettuce so they look good in that teeny bikini. Yes, my friend, THAT beloved sand trap of a sunburn is where I have been for the past 6 days.

Sadly, we’ll be leaving tomorrow. As it’s been an annual trip with my mom’s side of the family since before I was born, you could say our clan has developed quite a soft spot in our hearts for lil ol’ Bethany West. In fact, this week is my favorite week of the whole year. Every year. We’ve rented the same beach house, complete with a spiral staircase and breakfast bar, for a number of years now and don’t hesitate to call this place our second home. But it’s more than just the house, the sandy shore, or the tanning heroic lifeguards that bring us back each year. It’s the time we spend with each other. The following is a list I’ve compiled. The list I told you I didn’t want to forget. The one I liked. It’s a list of 50 reasons why I love the beach.

1. Warm sand and cool water. Quite possibly the best combination of two earthly objects.

2. Jeeps. Are. Everywhere. I seriously salivate.

3. Morning jogs to the boardwalk. Does the humidity suck? Yes. But it is one of the best places and times to take runs.

4. Corn on the cob! Spray butter and shakes of salt.

5. Tan lines. Shoulders, hips, and feet. My 3 favorite places.

6. Checking out all the... scenery.

7. TCBY!!!!! A nightly tradition.

8. The fact that as I type this, our neighbor across the way has just whipped out a guitar and harmonica on his front porch and is serenading me.

9. Wild prints are ALL OVER THE PLACE. Swimsuits, towels, dresses, umbrellas... it's the one place you can get away with it.

10. Bright colors. In addition to the wild prints.

11. Clams on top of all the cars.

12. The smell of your beach towel after you dry off with it and then lay in the sun with your nose snuggled into its salty fibers.

13. Puzzles. And Dutch Blitz.

14. The fact that you could hang any article of clothing, towel or blanket pretty much anywhere in the house "to dry" and it'd be totally acceptable.

15. Double Stuffed Oreos. Thank you, Ryan.

16. Sitting on the top balcony and swinging your feet into the oblivion below.

17. Swimming through your family members' legs to make them scream and think a shark is at their feet. Yes, I still do that.

18. Ladder golf in the sand.

19. Coach Yoast's laugh.

20. Bare feet. Everywhere. All the time.

21. Sand. Everywhere. All the time.

22. Glow sticks on the boardwalk and the beach.

23. Digging holes. Or, watching the guys dig holes. For no reason whatsoever. (Where else does that happen?!)

24. And blocking the water from reaching the holes... of course a priority.

25. Moonlit walks on the beach.

26. Sunlit walks on the beach.

27. Any walk on the beach.

28. Sundresses.

29. Sunglasses.

30. Beach hair: light and salty. Like a good potato chip.

31. Skim boarders.

32. Riding bike all over the neighborhood and convincing everyone you see that you've known them forever.

33. Mino's comments. About anything at all.

34. ESPN, constantly.

35. Yoinking wireless from the neighbors that aren't in for the week.

36. Fisher's popcorn.

37. Seeing Ryan's monkey toes all the time.

38. Dad transforming himself into a different race.

39. Highlights in my hair. And her hair. And his hair.

40. Nose freckles.

41. Breezes from the Atlantic.

42. The sound of flip-flops on the boardwalk.

43. Longboards. With Vans slip-ons. And jean cut-offs.

44. Stepping in the footprints of any path you find in front of you.

45. People watching is an acceptable sport. I like that.

46. Charcoal grills. And the delicious burgers they come up with.

47. The Bethany Beach Bandstand, and the awesome crowd it always brings out.

48. The creak of certain boards on the walk that you've come to know, and so you always step there with both feet instead of just one.

49. That manatee picture in the bathroom downstairs. And those pirates above the front porch doors.

50. And, as much as I hate to admit it, I do love Warren's Station.

Play: PA

Welp.

I am done with my first year of college. (?!?!?!?!?!)

I'm not sure how I feel about this. First of all, it's shocking. I cannot believe that last year at this time I was still in high school. For real, it is unbelievable. I know some years have seemed to pass by quickly before, but this is probably the fastest yet. Just yesterday I was moving out, but it seems like only a few weeks ago I was moving in. And yet, at the same time, it seems as though I've known these new Roberts friends forever...

There truly is no place like home. It is the most comfortable place in the world. But this time, when I came home yesterday, and everyone in the family started unloading the van and lugging everything into my room, I stared at the cardboard and tupperware boxes that contained my entire life for the past year and felt... weird. I can't really comprehend it all... but... I now have two lives.

One of my friends (who also happens to be my boss) and I were talking about this on Friday, as I sat at work, done with finals, done with Garlock, done with my freshman year. It's like we put our lives on a tape, we decided. Seriously. I have a life on tape in PA, which I had to "pause" and start the tape in NY. Now, it's the end of the semester, and I've put my NY life on "pause" and hit "play" on the old PA tape. For the rest of this summer, I'll be seeing all my old friends from high school, working at the same job I had all last year, going on vaca's with the family I haven't seen in a while... It's just like it was before. And it's great! Really, it'll be awesome, and I'm super excited about summer.

It's just that, I have this whole part of my life now in NY, and I won't be even touchin' it for the next three months. Just putting it up there on the shelf, tucking it away in storage along with the mini-fridge and spiral-bounds. Now I do realize it's like this for any college student, no matter where you go, how far away, whoever you meet. It's just another part of college life I never thought about before. And I'm sure I'll keep in touch with the people I've met there. But I won't be hanging out with them. (Which, by the way, may be way okay, since I did just live with them for a year. Everyone needs a break from each other after a while.)

Anyway, just thought I'd rant about my new split-screen life. I have 3.5 months to "play" my PA life. Might as well live it up! Over and out.

Doesn't anyone care about finals around here?

It sure doesn't seem like it. My roommate and I feel like we're the only ones studying. There's too many people watching movies and playing frisbee around me on a daily basis that I feel as though I may be taking this studying for finals thing too seriously. But then I actually get to the exams, and realize I should have actually studied more. So whatever. If I'm the only one on campus concerned about my GPA so be it. I'm the one paying for this education. (Well, okay... and my parents. And the government. And Roberts, actually. But for Roberts to continue that I have to keep my GPA up, so that kind of goes back to square one...)

Anyway, I don't have much time today, obviously, since I have a final tomorrow and 2 on Friday, but I just read something that I thought was super awesome and share-worthy.

For my speech class I'm reading Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis. I don't care who you are or what your faith is, or even if you don't have faith. If you have eyes and a brain, read this book. It's freaking good. Logical, intelligent, and helps make sense of this faith I call my own. It's not even one of those crap "I will convert you into my religion" books. It's just one that makes sense. In the chapter I just read, called The Three-Personal God, Lewis writes:

If Christianity was something we were making up, of course we could make it easier. But it is not. We cannot compete, in simplicity, with people who are inventing religions. How could we? We are dealing with Fact. Of course anyone can be simple if he has no facts to bother about.

Whoa, Lewis. Whoa. I like your in-my-face-ness.

Off to study the history of music....

P.S. On an entirely unrelated note and one that completely contradicts the book I was just quoting... I'm really enjoying listening to The Audition, lately. Feel free to check 'em out.

Carpe Diem

We've all heard "seize the day" before. But I don't think the majority of people in this world ever really do that.

Recently I found out that a young man I graduated with drowned.

I wasn't close friends with him, but I did know him, since elementary school. And I ate the smarties his Mom brought in to our class in 5th grade to do well on the standardized tests.

I don't know the circumstances of his passing, more than what I've already said, except that it was in a river by the college he was attending down in PA. I can't remember the last time I talked to him. I wasn't even friends with him on Facebook.

So why, might I ask, would this be so weird for me? Why do I feel the need to check on his friends' websites everyday to make sure they're okay? Why do I get freaked out by rain and water and pools and swimming?

This death was sudden. Tragic. Horrifying. Totally unexpected and completely painful for all parties involved. How could Chris have known that when he woke up that day he'd never again fall asleep? How could his mother have known her oldest son would not return from school, ever? Or that the past Thanksgiving was his last?

After I found out about this tradegy, I jumped online to find some "Seize the Day" quote of wisdom to put up as my Facebook status. (Kind of lame, I realize... but nonetheless, the truth, and this blog is all about honesty, so deal with it.) What I found is that most of them were too blunt to publicize to a world of close friends who were in the midst of shock, pain, and grief. But I really liked some of them, and decided to record them here for future reference. May they encourage you, oh reader from cyberspace, to truly seize each precious day.

"Waiting for the fish to bite or waiting for the wind to fly a kite. Or waiting around for Friday night or waiting perhaps for their Uncle Jake or a pot to boil or a better break or a string of pearls or a pair of pants or a wig with curls or another chance. Everyone is just waiting." -Dr. Suess

"Enjoy yourself. It's later than you think." - Chinese Proverb

"Life is not lost by dying; life is lost minute by minute, day by dragging day, in all the thousand small uncaring ways." -Stephen Vincent Benet

"I find each day too short for all the thoughts I want to think, all the walks I want to take, all the books I want to read and all the friends I want to see." - John Burroughs

"Why must conversions always come so late? Why do people always apologize to corpses?" - David Brin

"You may delay, but time will not. " - Ben Franklin

"Many people die with their music still in them. Why is this so? Too often it is because they are always getting ready to live. Before they know it, time runs out." - Oliver Wendell Holmes

"Every day of our lives we are on the verge of making those slight changes that would make all the difference." - Mignon McLaughlin

"There are many To-morrows, my Love, my Love - There is only one To-day." -Joaquin Miller

"Life is always walking up to us and saying, "Come on in, the living's fine," and what do we do? Back off and take its picture." - Russell Baker

"If you were going to die soon and had only one phone call you could make, who would you call and what would you say? And why are you waiting?" - Stephen Levine

"Only that day dawns to which we are awake." -Henry David Thoreau

Can't Go Back Now

Well, folks. Here we are. The last weekend on campus. One more week of college before all of campus is released into separate families, counties, states and countries for a whole three months of sun-soaking, money-raking, trip-taking euphoria. I myself can hardly believe it's all gone by so fast. It doesn't seem like just last year that I was getting ready to graduate high school at this time. This is just plain weird.

A lot has happened since my last blog entry. I went to Canada. Twice, actually. Once with my roommate, as a last hurrah to see the Falls before summer, and one with the art club here at school, to see the Art Gallery of Ontario in Toronto. Talk about art! For real, let's talk about it. I was in awe of this gallery's selection. From Warhol to Monet, Moore to Poussin, Dali to van Gogh, they really did have it all. And a bunch of the work was contemporary or modern, which was very exciting for me, because I love that stuff. There were 5, (FIVE!) floors of artistic brilliance in this building. I spent 9 (NINE!) hours looking at it all. And I still feel like I passed a majority of it by too fast. Or not at all. By the time I left, I had a headache from analyzing so much art for so long. (Sure, by the time I left it was 5, and I hadn't eaten since 8, so that probably had something to do with it too, but I'm sure all the art was a major factor too.)

I have found a new passion for my passion this year.

Art is something that requires so much intelligence and planning and individuality and hard work and... skill... that it really gets me when it's not appreciated. I just paid 8 dollars and saw so many genius images that I feel like I should go back and pay them more money. (Which of course, I will not do, because I am a college student.) It's just that art is so often overlooked, even by artists. It is not just a group of groovy people trying to paint landscapes or portraits and make it look good. Real art isn't something that you can look at for a minute, make an executive "I like it!" nod and move down the wall. It's so much deeper than that, so much more personal. Art should be invigorating. Art sends a message to it's viewers. It's sometimes satisfying, sometimes disturbing, sometimes confusing, or offensive, or persuasive. It takes artists years to finish pieces. Years. Sometimes decades. Most times artists don't have enough time to finish them. When I left the AGO, I wanted (1) food, because I practically unconscious, and (2) to change the world through art. When I find the words to adequate describe my thoughts on this subject, I'll come back to it. Or maybe I'll just start creating.

You should be relieved to know that the little group I was with did find some food. There were four of us, Pam, Justin, Nick and I, and I think out of everyone from Roberts we were the last to leave the gallery. Many people wanted to walk around Toronto, go shopping, sight-see, etc. and left before we did. By the time we left, however, all of those things were coming second to one thing: an adequate meal. The four literally starving artists walked a block or two from the AGO to Chinatown, and wandered the streets looking for any sign NOT in Chinese or French that indicated some sort of food, which seemed to take FLIPPING forever! I think I entered two barber shops and at least one stand of knock-off purses before we finally found a sign that said that glorious word: Restaurant.

Once we got inside, however, I'm pretty sure all four of us immediately wanted to leave. It looked like a palace inside here, folks. A Chinese Palace Restaurant. That's what the sign outside should have said. And why was this a problem? Because we are poor college students, and all artists. This means we buy paint and canvas before a new pair of jeans, let alone spend 481732 dollars on a meal in Chinatown. When we got our menus and there weren't any prices on it, we knew we were sunk. But what can you do at this point? We chose the obvious. LAUGH. We laughed a whole lot. As quietly as possible, I might add. But it was one hilarious situation. Here we were, so hungry we couldn't even think, surrounded by art and mirrors and non-wooden chopsticks (Yes, that is correct. They gave us real chopsticks. Not those wooden ones in paper envelopes. We're not kiddin' around here, folks. I'm pretty sure they were solid gold. Or maybe not.) And after much deliberation and checking of wallets and suppressed giggles, we finally compromised. We drank a pitcher of tea and got one dish, one very small dish (that tasted de-lish) splitting it four ways. That way, we could be polite consumers of this fantastic restaurant, and still not spend our life savings. We ended up, however, just making ourselves MORE hungry by giving our stomachs a tease and by the time we left we felt so awkward for leaving our poor Chinese waiter there without anyone to wait upon. But it was so worth it. Especially when we walked another 2 blocks in the opposite direction and found a Subway. :) By the time we were done eating a full meal, we still had enough time to check out the City Hall, mall, and city scene. SUCH a fun trip.

But ALAS! those days are now over. And we're on to studying for finals. Those wonderfully stressful examinations of your non-comprehensive progress throughout the collegiate year. And after five days of these beautiful puppies, I'm home free! Hmm, Maybe I should start packing?

Brainage Drainage

Hello No One,

Today was a blah day. Do you have blah days, No One? Of course you do. We all do.

I barely slept last night. I don't know why. Actually, I have a pretty good idea why. But it's not something I will write about on a blog at this time. Or ever.

Basically, I had no sleep last night... so today, I felt really sick. I left my first class early, e-mailed the professor of my other class and went to bed. It wasn't just exhaustion, either, although that was a part of it. I kept feeling really hot, and then cold, and generally weak all the time. Dizziness, headaches, stomachaches, all day. (What in the world, body?!) I slept until 3. And then I worked from 3:30 to 6:20. I tried to study for my art history quiz tomorrow after dinner (which, by the way, was a really bad idea... food and I still aren't good friends) but I'm such a sickling that I think I'm just gonna go to bed.

Brainage drainage. That's my unofficial diagnosis. Courtesy of Meg, WebMD, and my own knowledge. I hope my body is able to pull it's act together soon!

My heart an altar, and Thy love the frame

Spirit of God, descend upon my heart;

Wean it from earth; through all its pulses move;

Stoop to my weakness, mighty as Thou art;

And make me love thee as I ought to love.

I ask no dream, no prophet ecstasies,

No sudden rending of the veil of clay,

No angel visitant, no opening skies;

But take the dimness of my soul away.

Teach me to feel that Thou art always nigh;

Teach me the struggles of the soul to bear.

To check the rising doubt, the rebel sigh,

Teach me the patience of unanswered prayer.

Hast Thou not bid me love Thee, God and King?

All, all Thine own, soul, heart and strength and mind.

I see Thy cross; there teach my heart to cling;

O let me seek Thee, and O let me find!

Teach me to love Thee as Thine angels love,

One holy passion filling all my frame;

The kindling of heaven descended Dove,

My heart an altar, and Thy love the flame.

Words: George Croly, 1864

An Honesty of Expression

I think I might start writing music.

I realize this could turn out to be not my thing. Sometimes that kind of endeavor just doesn't work out.

But I can't imagine my life without music.

Every time I'm in my room, I have music playing. Every time I work out, I have music playing. Every boyfriend I've ever had has been a musician. Over half of my best friends are musicians. And I think going to concerts is my anti-drug. (Which is kind of ironic.) The one year of high school that I wasn't in the music program, my world slightly crumbled.

One of my favorite quotes was found on the wall of the orchestra room in my high school. "After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music." I love it, because it's true.

I'm jealous of music's honesty of emotion.

Watching a musician perform can be a really personal experience. It should be a really personal experience. A good musician writes melodies and lyrics that are intimate, characteristic and honest. Music is so honest. An honest expression. That's what I need. And that's why I'm gonna start writing.

Bunnies, Eggs, and the Savior of the World

Hi Blog-o-sphere.

I started a blog again.

I think the only reason I stopped the other one was because I hadn't written in so long, and I thought it was kind of pointless. Yesterday, however, I snooped on some of my friend's blogs (friends who I didn't even know had blogs, actually) and I realized once again how much I love to write, and how blogging would give me a chance to do that. And so here I am, back online.

I'm writing this from Florida, which, in fact, is very awesome. On an awesome scale of 1 to 10, I'd even say it's an 11. Some may argue 12. A friend of mine comes down south each year around Easter and this year I was invited to join them. (And who, in their right mind, would say no to Florida?!) I've learned it's called the Sunshine State for good reason, too. Yesterday, it was "cloudy" and I had to wear sunglasses. Hooooly toleeeeedo, I want to move here.

Today is Easter. The day the Easter Bunny comes and hides eggs. (Okay. Pause. I know I cannot be the only one to find it completely messed up that the mascot of Easter is a bunny. Is there any relation to Easter and bunnies? No. Also, why would a bunny be delivering eggs? It’s the only springtime animal that does not lay eggs. Stupid. Now I do realize that it comes from some pagan holiday tradition, and the goddess called Easter was a rabbit, or something. But that idea just adds immorality to this whole thing. Stupid. ) Easter is also the day everyone goes to church, even if they never do any other Sunday of the year. Which is something else I fail to understand.

Maybe it’s because I’m a regular churchgoer, and I always have been, but that has got to be the most bizarre thing our society consecutively partakes in, every Easter Sunday. Why do people come to church, just once? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not discouraging anyone from going to a church on Easter, but I’m just wondering if there’s a point to it. Church isn’t a place to just hang out. It’s not a place to “make an appearance.” It’s not a place for casual attitudes. And of all Sundays, Easter Sunday should be the most radical, the most extravagant, the most exhilarated, electrified… life-changing. It should be the one service that keeps you coming back every single Sunday after that. Easter Sunday is the celebration of the foundation of our faith!

There is nothing halfhearted about it.

This morning I sat in a pew behind a family who brought baskets of candy in with them, so that the little girl would have something to do during the service. Girls were texting. Boys were playing with girls’ hair. A grandmother was recommending a good book to her granddaughter. Across the aisle a couple sat together, politely sitting straight up, holding hands at points. They looked as though they were listening attentively. Everyone, including myself, stood when asked to stand, everyone sang when asked to sing. Everyone sat while the Pastor spoke. And after he finished speaking, everyone left when told to leave.

… Did I miss something?

Today is the anniversary of Jesus Christ RESSURRECTING from the DEAD. He died! And then He came back to life! And because of HIM I am now guaranteed Eternal Life forever. Forever! Forever I will LIVE because of what happened on this day so many years ago… And I just sat in a pew for 2 hours?! Did I even think about Him for the rest of the day? Or did I go home and hunt eggs and eat ham and jelly beans?

The MAN who saved the world was raised from the dead. That’s some INTENSE and SERIOUS stuff. I don’t want to spend Easter sitting through a church service and then forgetting about his glorious and merciful sacrifice. Paul didn’t want that either. He said, “I want to know Christ and experience the mighty power that raised him from the dead. I want to suffer with him, sharing in his death, so that one way or another I will experience the resurrection from the dead!” (Philippians 3:10-11)

There’s so much more to this day than going to Church. And although I still don’t understand why the majority of the population came to church today, I know that the entire population needs more than what they’re getting out of this world. Nothing here will satisfy us. Nothing on this earth can quench my thirst for some Higher Love, some Eternal purpose. Especially not egg hunts and Easter bunnies. It's not fair that these things share a holiday with the Savior of the world.

So today, let us rejoice that there is One greater. Let us celebrate the resurrection of Jesus, who was born to die, so that all our sins would be forgiven and we’d be given free admission to the most Holy Place. For “everything else is worthless when compared with the infinite value of knowing Jesus Christ my Lord!”

God, grant this world unrest. Enable us to see the unsatisfying ways of this world, and give us a craving for something Eternal, something Jesus secured for us all. Thank you for that. Forgive us all for ever neglecting you, or putting you in the schedule of our busy lives. Lord, be our lives, this day and every day. You’re not just a part of my day today. You’re the reason for it.