joyfull all ye nations rise, join the triumph of the skies

This morning everything seems to be magic. Driving to work with my dad, the whole world seemed so silent and small, with every twig on every tree crystalized in the snow and ice like we are living in a world made of glass. It is wonderful to be happy just because you are alive, not because of anything going on in your life. That's what true happiness is, isn't it? It can't have anything to do with your circumstances, because those are constantly changing.

It seems that there are only rare periods in my life when I really trully want to live for God, and this is one of them, but I'm very afraid that if I stop talking and writing and praying about it for a few hours I'll forget about it and go back to living for me. That's how weak my heart is... it's so discouraging. I once heard a pastor say that the older he got, the less detached from the world and focused on heaven he became. That sounds like such a beautiful thing to me, to actually want to go to heaven with everything in you. I still can't see myself really wanting to spend that much time praising God. It sounds exausting. I wish that I had that kind of love for him and that he was that REAL to me.

Do you ever feel like God isn't real? Like even though you pray to him and read about him and talk about him with your friends all the time, the whole concept of the gospel is so big and radical that it's hard to accept that it actually did happen, at a certain point in time in the history of this very world that we live in now? I wish I beleived in Jesus being born by a virgin and dying on the cross and comming to life again the way I beleive that Pompey crossed the Rubicon and Cleopatra was the Queen of Egypt, but there is always this element of mystery that I stumble over. I have a hard time with mystery. I want things to be laid out, black and white. Sometimes after I'm done praying I try to wrap my mind around the fact that I was just talking to the same God who spoke to Abraham and Job and Isaiah, but I never quite can. It's a scary thing, and I'm sure that if I ever was able to understand it I would pray quite differently.

*sigh* It's amazing just how far I always have to go. The one thing I already can't wait for about heaven is never having to deal with sin again. To actually feel even my thoughts and my motives being good and clean and perfect all the time... I doub there is anything more wonderful than that.

he's gotta wear his goggles, cuz the snow really flies...

Well here I am at work, in a mall that is virtually deserted, having been here since 5:50 for the mad rush of Christmas shoppers we were expecting before all of this wonderful snow came! I say that cheerfully because I am working on not complaining, haha. But it's actually not that bad because I'll get off at noon instead of three like usual.

Lately I've been:

-looking for a new job
-reading Stepping Heavenward
-studying small portions of the Bible instead of reading a chapter a day
-not Christmas shopping
-getting very very sick
-racking up a horrendous phone bill for my parents with long distance calls to Black Diamond
-eating way too many Christmas cookies

and many other things I'm sure which I'm just not remembering right now.

and I've been thinking:

-I am really not cut out for sales. I LOVE helping customers when they come to me; trying to help them find the perfect phone for their needs and watching them walk out of there happy is a great feeling. But I hate trying to stop people who have a totally different agenda and force them into buying products witch they don't really know if they want. So I am not selling anything here, which is putting me on the fast track headed for getting fired. Thus the new job search.
-So much of goodness is acting. The girl in Stepping Heavenward (which every girl here really has to read, if they haven't already) is constantly telling her journal how much she hates certain circumstances, or what a hard time she has dealing with things, and she seems like someone who is barely a Christian or really struggling in her faith- but then she mentions other people who tell her what a saint she is. So I realized that the truth about people is always much darker than how they appear, and that a good deal of sanctification is being able to control the bad things in us and not give them any victory over us.
-Pastors are very, very inteligent people. It amazes me how they can take just a few verses and find heart-wrenching meaning and convicting application out of them. So I've been taking church notes in my journal and then choosing one passage from the sermon to study all week, and it's been amazing because these deep, deep truthes are actually working their way into my understanding. For example:

1. The Peace of God surpasses understanding. Philipians
4:7
2. As Christians, our lives should look different after
salvation. Ephesians 2:1-10
3. It is my duty to be content in my circumstances. Hebrews
13:5, not to mention the entierty of Jonah (sunday school) and Job 34 (morning
worship).

-Who needs Christmas presents anyway? Really, I did that last year.

-There is nothing fun about being sick when you're 19 the way there was when you were 9. But I like to think that when I'm better I'll enjoy life that much more.

-I am very loud when I talk to Christina on the phone. And Jacob and Raeshell constantly contradict her in the background.

-I would like to eat nothing but carrots and perhaps a candy cane for the next week.

-It is very annoying how blogger formats this post.

I've been thinking

Today I saw a scrapbook that said "life makes the best story."

And I started wondering weather or not this was really true. Because a good story has to have conflict and resolution, and while life has pleanty of conflict, it is often lacking in resolution. What resolution we do find never lasts for long. There is always more conflict that comes up later, and then we forget about the things that are already resolved and they have to be resolved all over again. And also, resolution isn't usually very climatic. It often comes just by thinking things through or by listening to someone else talk. Or, perhaps even more frequently, resolution comes by being so confused that you give up trying to figure things out and they simply fade into the past, and you realize in hind sight just how small and insignifcant your "giant" problems really were.

Not very much like a story at all.

So I am starting to find it a very strange thing that people try to put snippets of humanity into two hour movies or describe feelings in three and four minute songs. Even a book, with it's limited number of pages and cover drawings and footnotes, can never quite capture anything close to reality. But it occurs to me now that capturing reality isn't exactly the point. The whole reason art is so important to us is because it makes life look like more than it really is. And that's how we start to view our own lives- as stories with plots and heroes and other characters, or as songs with music videos.

Or at least that is how it is for me.

Reality and I have never gotten along well, I'm afraid. I'm just never quite sure what kind of a story mine will be in the end. I'm not sure if I want to be the hero, the victim, or the lovely Mrs. Right. I'm not sure if it should be a fairy tale, a soulful exposition of a girls thoughts and feelings, or an epic struggle pitting good vs. evil. I'm not sure if it should be poetry, prose, or something no one has ever heard of before. But I do think that if this story ever were to be told, it would take on a life that is bigger than my reality ever will be.

This is a horrily pretentious blog post. I want to write another one.

together we've climbed hills and trees, skinned our hearts and skinned our knees

Alright, I'm back for a day. But I make no promises, because I'm very very busy right now and I have almost no time at all for the computer.

Right at this minute, though, I need a place for my mounting frustration with life to errupt and make a huge mess without feeling like it will all come back to haunt me later on. This place is safe, and I miss that. For all of you who didn't come to Elizabeth and Beth's birthday party, you really missed out. It was just like old times, singing and dancing together and then talking late into the night. It made me realize again how much I've left behind in my life for absolutely no good reason at all.

With my new friends it's different. You have to hold yourself together and make snide comments. You have to know the lingo. You have to act like you don't really care. You have to accept it when life doesn't throw you together anymore. You just have to keep going, going, going, like the energizer bunny with that stupid drum. That's exactly how life feels right now. Dum, dum, dum, dum, dum...

I have heard that one of the three keys to being a happy person is having a higher purpose or meaning in this life. They did a study and the happy people they interviewed all had this in common, apparently. So there must be truth to it. I suppose this is what the Bible is talking about when it says that the joy of the Lord should be our strength. It must just be a mindset that you keep with you at all times, where you know that God has put you on this earth for a reason and you go through each and every day in the concious effort to fulfil it. What IS that purpose, though, for me? I don't know. I certainly don't live this way.

The other two keys were getting deeply involved in projects to consume your mind, and staying connected with friends and family. It's a little ridiculous to be evaluating my life by bullet points from a Readers Digest article, huh? I guess it kind of rings true with me though, especially when I realize that I'm missing out on both of these things, too. Is it totally selfish and inapropriate to say that I just want to be happy? I just can't see myself continuing to plod along to the beat of that drum for too much longer without completely throwing in the towel; I've come pretty close several times already.

Of course the truth is I always bring all of this on myself, and I don't know why. I have always boardered on the side of being self-destructive, so I guess this is just another way that I fail to take care of myself. I'm sure I'd be a much better instrument to be used by God and help people around me and contribute to the world if I just found a way to love life instead of being dragged through it, feeling like butter scraped over too much bread.

I guess what it boils down to is this: I need to start praying and really searching my Bible again, and definantly studdying like I actually care about my classes even though I don't. Maybe I could even invest a little effort into work. And I need to surround myself with the people I care about. Do you ever have a image in your mind of the way you want things to be, and it burns you when you realize how far away it is from reality? I always looked forward to college so much. It was supposed to be so exhilerating, the best four years of my life. I was supposed to be meating tons of new amazing people and running all over the place having adventures and learning new things, becoming the person I want to be for the rest of my life. Adding value to who I am through good book learning and stuff like that. And I have to ask myself, why not?

So I hope that even if blog is in it's last days here, I can find a way soon to see all of you on a regular basis. Maybe these are the friends I will cary with me all of my life, or at least some of them, or one of them. You just never know. At least I don't want anyone to say that it didn't happen because I didn't try. If you want to help me out with this crusade, my new phone number is (253)353-0986, just in case you didn't know.

i love this song.

Take a walk down town, and dream with me
We'll walk the parks and the empty streets
You know the seasons ought to be
Love, Loss, Hope, Repeat

We're alone in a crowded room
Silhouetted and ready to bloom
You know the seasons ought to be
Love, Loss, Hope, Repeat
Love, Loss, Hope, Repeat

And when the high wind blows everything
Like the lion attacking the spring
I love you more than I'll ever let on
And that's a fault of mine I'm working on
I'm working on
Take a walk downtown

Remember the days that would never end?
So much time you couldn't comprehend?
When the sun’s so slow to fade
And tomorrow was more of the same
And the easiest April Rain
Was enough to ignite the flame
And you’d fade out with a grin
With the company you were in

And when the high wind blows everything
Like the lion attacking the spring
I love you more than I'll ever let on
And that's a fault of mine I'm working on
I'm working on

And when the sky's a dusky hue
And everything is bottle blue
I love you more than I ever let on
And that's a fault of mine I m working on
I'm working on
Take a walk down town

And jump the train line down
And then turn around at the edge of town
Or continue down, to the other side
And ride and ride ‘til we see our lives
And see our lives from outside
Our city walls and the darkened halls
And the lonely calls
And when we turn around and head back in
Everything will be new again
Everything will be new

And when the high wind blows everything
Like the lion attacking the spring
I love you more than I'll ever let on
And that's a fault of mine I'm working on
I'm working on

And when the sky's a dusky hue
And everything is bottle blue
I love you more than I ever let on
And that's a fault of mine I m working on
I'm working on
Take a walk downtown

ebenezer

So what do you guys think of my new blog title? I think it's kind of pretentious and more serious than I wanted to be. So I don't know. But I really like what it means. I'm kind of realizing that my life means something way bigger than just what it means to me. It's an ebenezer, a monument to the faithfulness of God- and it's also... how can I say this? It also confirms what I've been told is ultimate Truth. I mean, people can tell you things but until you see experience confirming what you hear there's no reason to beleive it. My experience is confirming the Truth of the Gospel all the time, in a way that convinces me way more than all the scientific proofs for creation or anything like that.

I've got a story to tell, but it's not a story about me, it's a story that's being told through me. I think. Maybe this is why God made me love to write. Maybe? I don't know. But I hope so. I think that would be really cool.

there, i finally said it.

Okay, so sorry, but I have this thing with continuity and proving myself to be not irrational and stuff, so I have to post this and then we can drop the subject for good.

I think this is the long and short of it. On homeschooling:

I don't know, it's just not something I want to be a part of. Despite it's merrits. The thought of trying to provide my children with enough of a well-rounded education to make them succesful drives me bonkers. I don't think I'm cut out for it.

But mostly it's because I do NOT beleive in secluding ourselves from the world, and if there is one thing I want to teach my kids it's how to be in the world WITHOUT being of the world. If they can do that in high school, they can probably do that anywhere. And if they can't, maybe I'd have to re-consider. But in theory, that's the idea, just like in theory homeschoolers are supposed to ace SAT's and read three hundred pages a day. I'm comming to realize that the most important thing is being willing to change as soon as you see that what you're doing isn't working.

Are we agreed?

paper bags and plastic hearts, all our belongings in shopping carts- it's goodbye, but we've got one more night

tonight will change our lives
it's so good to be by your side
we'll cry
we won't give up the fight
we'll scream out at the top of our lungs
and they'll think it's just because we're young
and we'll feel so alive

We go down to the beach in three cars, weaving through the trafic like performers in a giant circus. The people in the grandstands watch and cheer, knowing that we are the show and all of the other cars are just props. Pulling into the parking lot we pile out and lock the doors, pulling sweatshirts over our heads or tying them around our waists as we quickly meld together into one group again. Our spirits are high; we laugh, we sing. Every joke holds more humor than it should as we trail down the path towards the water.

The beach is crowded tonight, and the fireworks have already started. There is a feeling of comoradory between everyone here, the kids throwing frisbys behind the fire pits running to meet one another and combine territories. Marshemllows are being passed around. We find an empty fire pit and a large piece of driftwood (probably illegal) and start a blaze. We take a few pictures, of the darkening sky and of ourselves. They will come out blurry and we all have hair in our eyes. But we are happy, and nothing exists outside of here and now.

For a while we sit and watch the other fireworks. They are shooting off all around us, sometimes whizzing by in front, sometimes exploding behind, and always shooting straight up into the air with wistles and shrill cries to burst into electric showers right above our heads. They rain down on us and sometimes the hot sparks land on our skin. The smell of gunpoweder is sharp and the smoke hangs heavy in the air. It is getting darker by the moment, and with the darkness more people are arriving, pouring down to the water in ones and twos, tens and twelves. Canopies are set up, barbaques are started.

We huddle together to keep warm. Our conversation is cautious, but excited.

"I think there's a lake behind us."
"Look at how the fireworks reflect on the water!"
"I wonder what those lights are, way over there?"
"Isn't that the theater?"
"Or maybe a radio tower."
"I think it's a theater."
...
"How do you make fireworks?"
"I wonder."
"That would be an interesting school project."
"Mmm, much better than volcanoes."
...
"They're probably illeagle to make."
"Yep. Probably illigal."

One of us stands up and pulls a lighter out of his pocket. The girls scramble for the sparklers. We spell our names in the air, leaving trails of smoke drifting off in the wind. When they burn out we stare at them in deep sorrow before tossing them into the fire and watching them curl up and then disinigrate into ashes. We turn; the boys have already gone down to the water with the bottle rockets. They borrowed a beer bottle from the guys next to us to set them off. Wondering down to the waters edge we poke our toes in, then yank them out sqealing and laughing at ourselves. Pulling socks and shoes back on, we retreat to the pile of drift wood at the tide line.

We climb up onto the wobbly logs and sing songs from musicals, laughing as we fudge through the parts none of us know. The boys bend over their work down in the gravely sand, the water laping close to and splashing the thin log where their bottle is propped. Finally there is a crackling sound and they come scrambling backwards across the slippery sea weed and turn just in time to see the firecracker whizz out over the water spreading a firey red trail behind it and then bursting into a spark of yellow light. We cheer as though it were the greatest thing we'd ever seen; as though it were the olympics. We laugh again.

Self-pleased, the boys take us down to the shore one at a time to teach us how. We all light off a bottle rocket, sometimes two at a time. Sometimes they go up in a puff of smoke and never come down, always on the times when the lighter didn't work until the thirty-second try. We are pathetic amidst the roar and bang of roman candles, rockets, and fountains going off all around us, but we are so proud when our bottle rockets go off perfectly, soaring in a glorious arch high above our heads and then exloding at the peak of the curve before the chared remains fall top-over bottom, twisting and turning into the gently laping waves. It like a magic trick, like the greatest show on earth. People laugh at us and we laugh back.

When the bottle rockets are gone we all gather on the logs, straddling them or balancing criss-cross on top like indians. Someone has an ipod and we each take a turn with one ear of the head phones. When our eyes meet across the blueish glow from the little screen they reflect the fireworks going off behind us, turning the pupils to brilliant bursts of red, yellow and blue.

all of the wasted time
hours that were left behind
answers that we'll never find
they don't mean a thing
tonight

It is getting cold. We pull our hands into the sleaves of our sweatshirts and our hoods over our cold ears. It is almost time to go home, but there is one thing yet to do.

The boys have saved the best for the last- four round roman candles waiting at the bottom of the fireworks box. Their eyes are gleaming as they move back to the waters edge. They set the first one off and it soars up almost soundlessly until it is almost out of sight. We hold our breaths in expectation, and then there is a brilliant splash of green across the sky blocking out everything else above our heads, followed a split second latter by a deafoning boom. We can feel the revirberations deep in the pits of our stomachs and our cheers this time are real and reverent. The boys are whooping and screaming, clamping one another on the shoulder and congradulating themselves. They run back to the smoking remains of the firework and choose one of the girls to go with them. Every one of the roman candles goes off perfectly, every time we feel the noise and hear the light crackle as much as we hear and see it. They are red, purple, and a 24-carrot gold.

And then it is done and we are packing up to go. Our voices are heavy with exaustion.

"Who's blanket is that?"
"Oh, that's mine."
"This one?"
"Yeah."
...
"Well it's been fun,"
"It sure has."
"We'll do it again."
"Every year."
"K."
"Goodbye!"
"Bye..."

We wonder back towards our cars in different directions, we climb in and we drive towards our homes and towards the stops we'll make along the way, dropping people off. We don't say a thing as we drive through the darkness with the radio singing softly over the hum of the wheels and the engine, but we're all watching the fireworks going off on either side of the road, escorting us home.

watch it burn
let it die
cuz we are finally free
tonight

tonight i'll dream while i'm in bed while silly thoughts go through my head

Okay, this is a question from Crystal to discuss:

"What do you all think about the concept of being in time? Do you feel like you are moving through time, or like time is moving through you and you are standing still?"

And now some curious george lyrics. Because your day wouldn't be complete without them.

fall is here, hear the yell
back to school, ring the bell
brand new shoes, walking blues
climb the fence, book and pens
i can tell that we are gonna be friends

walk with me, suzy lee
through the park, by the tree
we will rest upon the ground
and look at all the bugs we've found
then safely walk to school
without a sound

well here we are, no one else
we walked to school all by ourselves
there's dirt on our uniforms
from chasing all the ants and worms
we clean up and now it's time to learn

numbers, letters, learn to spell
nouns, and books, and show and tell
at playtime we will throw the ball
back to class, through the hall
teacher marks our height against the wall

and we don't notice any time pass
we don't notice anything
we sit side by side in every class
teacher thinks that i sound funny
but she likes it when you say

tonight i'll dream while i'm in bed
when silly thoughts go through my head
about the bugs and alphabet
and when i wake tomorrow i'll bet
that you and i will walk together again
cause i can tell that we
are going to be friends

i'd like to change the world, it's easier than changing me

I hate to admit it, but all the wind has gone out of my sail about my whole little "save the world by putting my children in corrupt institutions" theory. It sounded nice but I don't think that's what this is really about.

Maybe it's really just about me being spiteful and I'm trying to not be so spiteful anymore, so let's talk about something else.

a-Ha! Song lyrics. :-)

I love this song, the lyrics are so complicated and intriguing. What do you think the message is? Or is it nonsense?

Shall I shy down?
that's boring, snoring
I'd like to
teach me to
sing in perfect harmony
And I'd like to
change the world.
It's easier than changing me
And I'd like to
find one girl
who knows me
Strum bang the drum aloud or put it down
and figure out if I'm out of line
Sit around and figure out if I'm wasting time

Wait for the sign
It's time to shine (shine) shine (shine) shine
Wait for the sign
It's time to shine (shine) shine (shine) shine

Why should I
sh-shy down?
how are you? fine.
Why should I
sit around
and be dead and never shine
It's the giant so defiant
But I'm happier if I can sleep
If I wake though, volcano
Fee Fi Fo
Fum bang the drum aloud or put it down
and figure out if I'm out of line
Sit around and figure out if I'm wasting time

(Chorus)

Living (living) fire (fire)
under my assets
I'd like to (I'd like to)
I try to (I try to)
tread tritely, so slightly
When the forest
is before us,
but we can't see for all the trees
That's when they fall,
that's when I call
The good Paul Bunyun
bang the drum aloud or put it down
and figure out if I'm out of line

Wait for the sign
It's time to shine shine shine
Wait for the sign
It's time to shine shine shine
We're out of line
It's time to shine shine shine
Wait for the sign
We're gonna shine shine shine

I've been thinking, I really don't like who I'm becoming. Or who I've become. All of the sudden it's hit me just how much I've changed for the worst this year. Do you ever find it absolutely impossible to rationalize your own behavior? That's how I feel. Why did I make all the choices I did? Why do I put myself across the way I do? There are always emotional and phychological reasons but that's not what I'm looking for, I'm looking for some shred of truth in me that does things for real reasons and not just to meet emotional needs or live up to my personality.

Tied in with that I'm realizing that grace and forgiveness are just one side of the coin, and the other is our hard and fast duty to obey God weather we understand or not. I'm really confused as I've been trying to read through the Old Testemant because I thought I had God all figured out, but then I realize I really don't understand anything he does. I guess I was thinking of him as a good humanitarian instead of an almighty force, like the one who sent that incredible thunderstorm recently. On one hand I wish he was who I want him to be, and on the other I actually have a new fear of God that makes me worship him more.

I think that contrary to what I used to think, the important things in life are those which make us feel SMALL and make God seem BIG and way beyond us. Our goal is not to understand him, our goal is to obey him.

every now and again sometimes, hum hum di-dum

This is my falling-off-the-edge-of-the-earth notice. I'll be gone till Saturday. Going camping with the church, at Millerservania.

As I said, the edge of the earth.

because it's not enough.

Lots of thoughts going around in my head these days.

Here's a big one.

Education is a huge huge mess in America, and everyone knows that, but instead of doing something about it Christians are turning and running. THAT is why I want to put my kids in Public School instead of homeschooling them. To me homeschooling feels like an easy way out and a cheat, like we're putting duct tape over the leak in our part of the boat and shaking our heads while the rest of it goes down. I want to cast my lot in with the masses and basically commit myself to going down with the ship if that's what is going to happen. Maybe a huge part of the problem with public education is that the people who really care about the situation and have the kind of principles/intelligence/vision we need to fix it are all jumping ship for something they think is better.

Of course the critisizms for this philosophy are that I would be sacrificing my children's wellfare for the sake of a broad ideal that we may never even reach. Is it EVER okay to do that?

I agree with most of you who disagree with me on this issue in that homeschooling is a better education and that public school has a lot of risks and dangers for someone you hope will be a child of God. It's just... do I want my children to have a better education and do I want them to avoid those risks? It sounds crazy, I know.

I'm basically saying, until every kid has the same oprotunity, I'm not going to give my child this advantage in life. If we beleive this, how far do we take it? Public school kids don't get a very good education. Kids from lower-class American families don't have money for college. Kids in Africa don't have food except for what they salvage from trash cans. Just by telling our kids about God we're giving them an advantage they don't deserve any more than anyone else, and it's not fair.

I guess for me this hits close to home because I hate it when people get head-starts in life that I don't. It seems unfair to me that I have to fight battles that for one reason or another someone else will never have to fight. I think we should all face the same demons and we should all move up in life based on how well we fight them. I even hate it when I can do nothing but thank God for advantages that I have in life over the majority of people I see.

I want black-and-white equality, like Ann Ryand talks about in Anthem. Everyone is born in a factory, raised in uniform situations and assigned jobs based on performance. But life isn't fair, or black and white.

And yet it's what I beleive in. Am I any more delusional than those who think they can actually uniformly raise republican Christians by sheilding them from the evil in the world? Am I a hero for fighting for a dying cause like equality, or just a fool? humm...

But I guess ultimately I feel that putting my kids or myself on an equal footing with the least-privilaged people in the world is a much better way to fight for equality then trying to rise to the top of things and then helping people get there too. "I'll help you" is one thing, "I'm here too" is quite another. Everyone hates those who are better than them and most people are too proud to accept that kind of help. To me that's always seemed condesending and rude, like some people just don't get it. Including me, probably, because for the most part I am a spoiled rich white American too. But I don't want to be. And I don't want my kids to be.

save your sympothy
who did you think you were fooling?
everything is dead
now you welcome me
to a town called Hypocrisy

Also, I met this really cool girl at Camp who I think you all would like tremendously, and I'm trying to convince her to get a blog. Her name is Crystal, and if she starts commenting then say hi and be really nice and cool and talk about Lord of the Rings a lot and maybe she'll get a blog too. :-)

thought

so much of life is just learning to bear your own burdens.

I liked this one.

OH and...

I almost forgot.
This morning Ethan found a new way to say his co-op sound off.

"Napoleon Napoleon was only five foot three,
He stepped upon the railroad tracks the train he did not see.
Eeeewy goooey..."

oh fridays.

Top 10 musical movie sequences of all time:
(rated for over-all epicness and scale. I even found vidoes for some of them in case you forgot. :-))

10. going courting- Seven Brides for Seven Brothers
9. it's the hard knock life- Annie (although this is a close second)
8. what time is it? - High School Musical 2
7. tevye's dream- Fiddler On the Roof
6. toot sweets (but also this)
5. balle balle- Bride and Predujuduce
4. friend like me- Aladin
3. stepping time- Mary Popins
2. that's how you know- Enchanted
1. good morning- Singing in the Rain

Agree? Disagree? What'd I miss?

Also, a story Elaina wrote for me today:

Once upon a time...

There was a girl named Emily. One day she was picking daisies in the meadow when she found a big blue jelly bean. When Emily saw this she immeadiatly thought, "I could sell this on Ebay for a lot of money!" then she thought better of that idea and instead thought "I will have a big jelly bean feast!" Soon that idea vanished when she remembered that she didn't want to break her record of no cavities! So instead she brought it to her room as decoration in her room. She set it on her shelf and took pictures of it to put on her myspace. Then she went on a three day trip when she left her room she closed the door behind her. Right after Emily left the big jelly bean started to wiggle. Then it cracked. Out came a baby dragon. When Emily came home she discovered the dragon who she named Saphira. Saphira was friendly and soon learned to talk out loud. Soon Saphira was really big and decided to explore the world. Once she met a person who got her to tell him her story. Soon that man became a director and Saphira became a movie star in the movie Eragon. Every time Emily watched Eragon she proudly remembered Saphira.

THE END.

good to know.

Get Your Cyborg Name

a little pony tailed girl growed up to be a woman

now her daddy's in the kitchen
starring out the window
scratching and a'racking his brians
how could eighteen years just up and walk away?

Boy, life sure will break your heart. And yet there is always, always hope. It amazes me. I think I'm just beginning to understand why we keep going in spite of everything, and it's bigger than me and my life. It's an awful beautiful mess out there, and yet still, there are things worth fighting for. Isn't it crazy?

turn the lights off, carry me home (na na na na na na na)

This has been a truly perfect and beautiful day.
Woke up at Ambers house and it was snowing.
Got to drive home in the snow. (it wasn't slippery, just pretty big twirily white flakes coming down on my windshield and making the wippers squeek)
Took a nice warm shower and put my hair up (this is key).
Had lunch and then my family left for chior except for Liz.
Made cookies because it's one of my special bake days (my baking habbits must be restricted now, apparently).
Talked to Lindy on the phone and completely ruined the cookies, haha!
Watched 7th Heaven.
Called Sam, talked for long time.
Went to the store with liz and listend to POTC music on the way. Remembered how much I love that movie and need to see it again.
Had homemade pizza with my family which I actually didn't like very much, but in concept it was amazing.
Watched a movie.
Made popcorn for the movie, turned it into carmel popcorn upon realization that we had no butter.
Danced.
Stayed up late listening to music and stalking people online.
Made a blog post.
Climbed into my soft, warm bed, currled up, closed my eyes, and drifted off to sleep.
yayyyy.

emily is:

taking suggestions on what to do with her endless expance of free time.


or her endless expance of free life.

this life sentence that i'm serving

A year ago this time I was in co-op, and co-op had me and my heart in every capacity of my faculties. I hated the work and the rules, of course, but the feeling of belonging I got out of being part of something bigger than myself was everything to me. I'm pretty sure I'm the only person who saw it that way, but it was great because though we were just a class to me we were epic, like characters in Survivor or something, and through the sweat of our brows bent close together over the piles of endless books and papers we had developed bonds like those between Frodo and his faithful companions. It was beautiful just because it made me care so much about things, feeling like I loved these people to the point where I would have given my life for any of them and I knew them so well I could have written novels about each one. They all seemed so interesting and exciting that it thrilled me to think I was one of them. And I remember what church was like, before it started falling apart, and how much I would look forward to Sunday and being with Sam and Anna and Elizabeth. I remember how we'd stand in a circle downstairs or over by the Organ and talk and how we had inside jokes and what that felt like, and how we were nerds and everybody thought we were rather strange and how much that excited me, because I was on the inside know of something. And I remember teen meetings at the D's and how it was so perfect, because we'd all known each other for so long and we all knew where our places were and who would ride with who, and Issacc could make hot chocolate or we could record ourselves singing on Nate's laptop and there was so much going on under the surface, everybody falling in love and toeing uncertainly at the boarders of our futures. I remember how much I invested in my family and how much it meant to me that we were so close to our cousins, and how I would relish our game nights and trampoline seat-drop competitions and the music videos we planned at picnic tables. I thought we had something really special. And I carred about all of this so zealously, I was so wrapped up in it and it was so fufilling, like I could love and care an endless amount and there would always be more fuel for my passionate, foolish heart.

That is life. That's the way this is all supposed to be. All the pain and trials and unimaginable happiness being lived out in the fullest since, wrapped up in things that are bigger than just me. God is so real when I am living like that. Everything is real, it's like my vision is clearer and my mind is sharper and all my senses are awake to take everything in, and what it all amounts to is "I AM HERE, I AM HERE!" God is in everything and everything is in God's hands, you feel like you know Him, like you can just talk to him. That's how I felt on our vacation last summer, out there in the wild grasslands with nothing but sky and a deserted highway for miles and miles.

So what is this thing where we just keep going, where we wake up each morning and begin our tasks and labor at them until it is time to go to bed? Never quite acheiving, but always striving... for what? I don't get it. This is the life I'm being asked to lead and it's very opressive. Something in me has died long ago and I can't rekindle that passion I used to have for everything. Beaten down by the realities of my dream world? I think it's more than that. I still beleive that that world exists, I've just somehow managed to fall out of step with it myself. The moments of vibrant life that I stumble into do not belong to me anymore, they are just borrowed from people who's lives still mean something. I'm weary and frusterated, I'm tired of trying to keep up relationships and goals as though I still have love or ambition to drive them. Really I just don't care. I'd rather be watching TV, that's honestly how I feel and it makes me very sick. I want to feel something again, I want to stand outside in the rain and let it pour down my face and through my hair and into my clothes until I'm soaked through, and be able to cry and laugh for real. But I just can't.

voice mail

Today I can't think about anything except how much everything is going to change for me. I'm going to wake up one morning and it will be different. I'll realize things and those realizations will make everything else fall into place. It will be very satisfying and everything will feel right, and I'll write fantastic blog posts or pamphlets or books full of short spiffy statements explaining how my mind set used to be so messed up, but then I discovered this amazing revelation and now everything is perfect for me now and if you do what I did you can be perfect too.

But at the same time I realize that if I ever did get to that point I've become irrelevant, because for most people it's not that simple. At least for teenagers. I'm afraid that once I start understanding things I'll just be annoying, even if I am able to become amazing. Amazing people who have it all figured out really frusterate me. They frusterate me more than they inspire me because I know I can't be like that.

There really aren't very many people like that, I suppose, and I can't help but thinking that it's really just an act, that you must be blind to a lot of things if life is that simple for you. You must be shutting your eyes to them and refusing to let them in, and personally, I'd rather be a wreck and let everything wash over me then stand strong and brace against it.

And I really wish that I could find a way to say all of this that was really poetic, or maybe write a story illustrating it, or relate it all back to some big overarching principle that is a governing facet of every human's life and make it profound. That's what writers are supposed to do. If I could do that, then it wouldn't matter how messy and imperfect I am, somehow it would all be okay, like I could capture it that way even if I can't beat it.

But really this is just me, taking myself too seriously, thinking too hard, grasping at things way above my head, looking at my life and being soooo disapointed in the way it's turning out- and none of it means anything, it doesn't have any echos that come back. Because the truth is, the chances that I'll wake up one morning and find myself renewed and permenantly changed and that I'll always feel like doing the best things and I'll be able to write and figure out exactly what to do with my life and love doing it and I won't bite my nails or stress eat ever ever again are very slim.

I don't want to keep going like this, though! I mean, my life is fine, I really have nothing to complain about. But it seems like I've become very disconnected from things since people started leaving our church and I left co-op. I just kind of drift along. I don't care or love or invest the way I used to. At fist I was really proud of myself for reaching this point because it used to be so hard being that dependent on things outside of me, and now I am very very self sufficient, but I wish I could go back. Now I don't have any dreams, really, nothing cognifitve to fight for.

Doesn't it every just feel like I post the same blog over and over? I read back through and think, wow, that was lame. Why do I do this? It's so cliche and emo and unnecessary, it doesn't accomplish anything, it doesn't make me a better person, honest emotions are meant to be expressed in a way that is raw and beautiful, not just explained out as though people are keeping track and taking notes. I wish I could.

how could I be so wrong?

I need
how I need my sisters here
if I can't share my dreams
what were they for?
I thought we promised
that we would never change and never part
I thought together
we'd amaze the world
how can I live my dreams
or even start
when everything has come apart?

I thought home was all I'd ever want
my attic all I'd ever need
now nothing feels the way it was before
and I don't know how to proceed
I only know I'm meant for something more
I've got to know if I can be

astonishing

there's a life
that I am meant to lead
a life like nothing I have known
I can feel it
and it's far from here
I've got to find it on my own

even now I feel it's heat upon my skin
a life of passion that pulls me from within
a life that I am making to begin
there must be somewhere I can be...

astonishing
astonishing

I'll find my way
I'll find it far away
I'll find it in the unexpected and unknown
I'll find my life in my own way
today

here I go
and there's no turning back
my great adventure has begun
I may be small
but I've got giant plans
to shine as brightly as the sun

I will blaze until I find my time and place
I will be fearless
surrendering modesty and grace
I will not disapear without a trace
I'll shout and start a riot
be anything but quiet
Christopher Columbus, I'll be astonishing

astonishing
astonishing...

at last.

beating, beating, beating, bleeding

Wanting things I can't have is a good thing, I guess, because it makes me care more and work harder and live like I know what I'm leaving, in a way.
But it also makes me extreemly bitter and restless, like I could strangle people.
I want to escape from this house and from under my parents authority. I can't stand the authority all of the sudden, it's not just that it gets in the way, it's that I can't stand being told what to do, period. I want to make my own decisions. I want to pay my own bills and iron my own clothes and burn my own toast and I want to do it my way.
I want to have the freedom to make really stupid decisions and live a reckless youth; I want to be given the oprotunity to go through the same experiences that led everyone around me to reach the conclusions they did for myself.
I want to break away from everything I grew up beleiving and startle everyone. I want people to realize that I'm not who they think I am. I want to prove myself a rebel at heart. I want to disapoint people. I want, so much, to loose some friends in the quest for honesty.
I also want to prove that this girl has heart and soul, that this girl can change lives and make a difference, that I'm not who they think I am either. I want them to see that there is a fire in me and that I'm not just a procrastinator or a bad housekeeper.
I want to grapple with everything that I don't understand and put words to the abstract things that make up life, I want to test and try to capture every thought and emotion that humans can think and feel.
I want to throw away this courtship rubbish and give true, burning, pure, budding eighteen-year-old love a fighting chance, I want this more than anything.
I want to find out if this God we serve is relevent in reality or if we have to build a bubble for him to inhabit and worship him like a canary.
I want to get out and go, go, go, I want to break free of everything holding me down right now. I don't even know where I want to go or what I want to do when I get there, but I've got to go somewhere. It's blinding me to every other thought or dream or practical idea that comes up, I just feel the heat of the building burning down around me and I want to jump through a window, though I have no idea what might be at the bottom.
And I think the worst that could happen is not that I won't ever get what I so desperately want, it's that eventually I'll just stop wanting it.

hi-ho cherry-oh

I cannot even begin to describe how frusteratingly anti-climatic writers block is, but if I wasn't having it I'm sure I could think of lots of nasty metaphores. The closest I can come is to that of sneezing, or rather when you really think you're about to sneeze but then you...

don't.

I'd rather be making music or dancing, or acting. It's really annoying how out of my control my very own life tends to be. But that's just the way it is.

Speaking of frusterating, today at School I completely denied being a Christian. Just like Peter. These kids were gossiping in a tight circle and saying something when I walked by, and it went like this:

Laura: We can have HER do it.
Me: Do what?
Matt: Never mind! (I think she's a Christian.)
Me: What?
Matt: Are you a Christian?
Me: ye... yes...
Matt: Like, devout?
Me: No, not really.
Laura: Do you go to church on Sunday?
Me: Yeah, I don't really have a choice in the matter.
Laura: Oh.
Me: But I would even if I did have a choice. I think.

And they thought that was pretty funny, but I'm also pretty sure they think I'm a looser now, which obviously I am, not because I'm a Christian but because I'm only half a Christian. It's very annoying because this one friend I have is always telling me that I don't know what I beleive and I'm doubting everything, and I never listen, but now the truth comes out. This is honestly a pretty acurate evaluation of where I am right now. I pray and stuff, and I'm reading in 1 Samuel and it's pretty good, I get kind of excited about it sometimes. But none of it feels real, it's just something I read about, and I wonder what I'm doing wrong that keeps it from happening to me.

I really like cooking and baking right now because it's fun and straightforward, there's very little philosophy involved, you don't really have to think about it, and yet it's easy to mess up and when you don't, you create something that has a clear and useful purpose. Everything else I do feels futile. School, maybe, but I'm not doing much of that. Exercise, well, I'm just going to get old and decrepid anyway. Writing, arranging words into sentenses to make points, as though no one has ever made them before? I don't get it. Everything exists inside this bubble that can pop in a second and then nothing matters except God. And yet that's the last place I want to run.

Yes, I'm sounding very depressed but I'm really not, I'm just being too introspective. It feels like no one's really around here anymore, which actually is kind of depressing. And that's basically it, Charlie Brown.

you can fly

I like today. I woke up early after staying up late and worked hard until lunch cleaning and exercising and such. I spent lots of time packaging up some memories in a shoe box, feeling very poetic and Lindyish. Then I sang to Nancy Drew and The Sound Of Music and danced in the Bathroom pretending to be a super star. Bangs are very good for dancing and being a super star. I should be in a music video.

I've got lots of new music too, just barely new enough to be exciting and old enough to sing along too (a whole day!). A song that everybody should listen to and memorize and sing when walking down the sidewalk is "I'd Like To Teach The World To Sing," and I recomend the Veggie Tales version. I'd like to see the world for once all standing hand in hand and hear them echo through the hills a peace throughout the land... And especially at the end when Paul Grape is like, "I'm so glad you came and spent your groovy day with me!" hahahahaha, ohhh dear. :-)

I have decided that I am not really a big fan of realism at all. I mean, I can't even pretend that I'm willing to face life as it is and take the hard knocks with "oh well." I'm such a sucker for the ridiculously perfect, adorably innocent worlds of Andy Griffith and the Waltons and especially 7th Heaven (woot woot!). When High School Musical came out I lived and breathed it in this super secret way and eventually guilted myself into giving it up, but that was because I just didn't realize how brilliant it is!!! If this is the message our oh-so-corrupt Junior High kids are buying into, that singing and dancing is cool and that life can be so simple and fun if you value friendship and true love (like kindergarden!) and follow your dreams, then I say bring it on. Even if it's unrealalistic I like seeing life like that and living like that. Oblivian is definantly the answer for me. :-P

man-made never made our dreams colide

I don't think I'm going to be online except to answer emails for a while.

My life is kind of falling apart in the lack-of-time-management way.

PLEASE pray for me here.

Love to all!

the show must go on

I like it how I'm sitting here starting sentences and backspacing them and then putting on my best pondering face and starting over again and again, when I know very well that I'm not going to write a single thing before it's time to leave for church.

The end.

penny

Jesus has so much to say about so many things. I love how for almost everything he talks about, there’s something else to balance it. He’s very reasonable that way. Also very confusing that way. I’m pretty sure I only understand about two percent of what he says. And then all of the Old Testament, especially the prophesies. It’s very pretty-sounding and if I’m in the right mood I can really appreciate the color and depth of emotion in it, but I don’t have the smallest idea what I’m supposed to be taking out of it. That’s hard to deal with, because I tend to approach the Bible as though it has magical powers, as though I can read it and then feel the transformation wrapping around me from my toes all the way up to my head, like in Cinderella. Everybody thinks that, right?

But I think that in order to really beleive the Bible, the things Jesus says have to take shape in your life. Like maybe the Bible is just an explanation or exposition of this reality called Christianity. Carolyn and I talk a lot about what exactly it means to be a Christian. Sometimes we think it’s as simple as believing on the Lord Jesus Christ (like the Philipian jailer) and sometimes we think it’s got to be more than that, since lots of people believe but don’t really care. I wonder if this is the real difference, when the Bible starts happening to you and it’s not just something you read about.

I don't know what I think about free will and election and all of that stuff, but on a really basic day-to-day level I'm always surprised by how much being a Christian is a two way thing, how much effort it takes on my part. A potential consequence of beleiving in Calvinism is thinking that once you're in you're in and you don't have to do anything else about it. I wish it was like that, but instead it just seems to take so much work and after so much time running I get tired of it sometimes and I'd rather think about something else. But I want to find a way to live this gospel and make it a lasting identity and a lifestyle, not just a religion.

DONE

with my Spanish and ready for a test.

Twice in a row now, Spanish tests and English papers have been due on the same day. What is with that?

Yesterday was pretty much the crapiest day of my life, and I seriously thought I was going to just drop out of school and spend the rest of the year watching television. I didn't do the slightest thing. And then I prayed just before going to bed, kind of like someone prays before their execution.

And now I'm really, really excited about God. :-)

What I learned on Television

If everybody likes you, you are a very borring person.

Buddy you’re a young man, hard man, shoutin’ in the street, gonna take on the WORLD some day...

help help!

Can't you see I'm going crazy
Won't somebody set me right?
Can I leave my half-chewed bubblegum
On the bedpost over night?

School is hard. I hate school. I especially hate Spanish. and Geometry.

And I can never do the things I have to do.

Ever ever ever ever.

Oh my.

This is going to be a good day.

I can just tell.

I'm going to go to school, take my Spanish quiz, and then since I don't have English class and my Chior teacher is having a baby, I'm going to go on a hunt for a secret study place. Somewhere that is warm and also inspiring. Like the elevator, maybe.

It's going to be amazing.

I can feel it in my BONES, I tell you.

just because there's no bedtime on Fridays

Food makes me feel so much better. A little bowl of cheesecake ice cream with a twirly dolup of whipped cream on top has much more power than people give it credit for. If I were president, that's what I would say to everything. Give them cheesecake ice cream!

Today I'm really upset because I wanted to be so different, and I'm not. Or something like that. I wanted to be different from my parents and different from most of my friends and different from everybody "worldly" that I'm not supposed to be similar too, I wanted to be radical and revolutionary and pretty much amazing in my own quiet way. I thought I could be this way once I had the right oprotunities, but now I'm having the oprotunities and it's not working out the way I wanted it to at all.

My English teacher says that guys can't be vulnerable because that might make them look week and un-manly, but girls can't be vulnerable because that might make them look ugly. And it's true, because when I'm like this I feel incredibly ugly, like deep down under all the manerisims and attitueds and makeup I put on to be pretty and ladylike and charming there's stuff I want to hide, that's just not attractive, and that's what bothers me more than anything. I live under this misconception that if I were perfect I'd always be happy. Which I suppose is true, but I don't mean actually perfect, I just mean seeming to be perfect, like never saying the wrong thing and always having the right shoes to go with the right outfit. I think if I was perfect like that then things couldn't hit me so hard, because I would be so confident in who I was.

But as it is every thing just seems to reveal how ugly I really am, and I'm not just being self-depricating, I mean everybody is so ugly when you get down to it, and we all have a hard time loving ugly people so it's a bit of a problem. Movies never talk about this, in movies people always deal with broken hearts and ruined lives and job stress and death and things like that, but they're all georgous and perfect in who they are. And I always think (it's terrible, but I do), if I could just be like that, I would care how much hollywood drama happened to me. Even being depressed would be fun if I looked and talked like that. Isn't that ridiculous?

Anyway I've been reading Donald Miller again and he makes me be very honest with myself. I like the way he just talks about things he's done and been through without trying to drive too hard to make points or show us things. He just talks, and you can relate to him and understand him even when you can't relate to him. Though most of the time you can relate to him. I guess being at school has shown me just how little I am capable of making good points and backing them up, I'm kind of a major wannabe when it comes to that. It makes me laugh at myself and all the time I've spent trying to figure things out, as though little, wide-eyed me is going to unlock the answers to the universe just by thinking about it when none of the great scientists or philosophers or my dad have ever been able to do that.

I guess you have to try, though, so that you're not just being ignorant and lazy. All we do in English class is bring up a subject and hash through it until we realize it's hopeless. And then we go home. I guess you get credit for thinking. Eventually you have to stop though, and start walking down the path you've come to weather it's right or not. I mean, it forks all the time. That's life for you, you just keep going and making new turns.

Yes, I wanted to be so different and it's hard. Which is really not profound at all. I guess it's just a personal thing and I'm dealing with it. Probably everybody has to. I thought I could be revolutionary but it's all been said and done before, there's nothing left for us but to live it. And there's something discouragingly unexciting about figuring out all the same stuff as everybody else at the same time or later.

I want to be able to live in a revolutionary way, I guess. Since saying and being arn't enough anymore. But I think more important than that is realizing that I'm not really any different and being okay with needing God that much. God, and cheesecake ice cream, and people who love me for absolutely no reason. Thankfully I've got the last two covered. Now I just really, really need to focus on God.

in my own words

Thus titled because none of this really started in my own head.

But I've got a thought here that I'm going to try to tap into. That's a worthy use of a blog, right? Thought-tapping?

Faith is one of those words we throw around in church a lot, but I think if you really start to think about it, it becomes a much bigger concept than we usually mean. According to the dictionary faith is "confidence or trust in a person or thing," so what does it really take to trust God? One thing that comes to mind is how trust depends so much on follow-through. So why is it that faith is such a big problem, why it's so hard sometimes? It must be that either God doesn't follow through, or we have all the wrong expectations.

One option is to limit our expectations, and I think Christians of every shape size and color do this with God all the time. Sticking with what is really close to home and familiar, what we've seen him do and can attribute to him with no faith required (God has given me a happy family and nice job, therefore he is good). To me that kind of faith screams "I need something to beleive in, and God happens to be it." It's like Danny was saying in Sunday School the other day, you could attribute that to a lucky hat just as much as to God, and your faith would be just as strong.

Is it enough, though? We want God to be more. I think we need him to be more to have real faith in him. Some of his promises are pretty out there, I've noticed. Is God not following through? Is being a Christian less than it's cracked up to be?

Everyone would say no. Everyone would say it's perfect and it's amazing and it's everything you'll ever need, and everyone who beleives in this seems to be dedicating a lifetime to proving that. I don't know why we should have to prove it. It's like we're not honest enough to look at our own religion and admit that it's ever hard or unsatisfying or irrational. Defending our lucky hat with vengence just so that we can keep beleiving in it, because we need it.

But I'm thinking real faith goes outside of that, it's radical and it can't be defended and it isn't easy, but it's huuuuuge. Mostly I think it's dangerous. Like climbing way out on a limb with God and trusting he's going to catch you based on very little, for a reward we can't see until after death and with consequences that are painful in the mean time. Technically Christians are some of the craziest people out there. The longer I think about religion and God the more I say, "I don't know," and the less that bothers me. My faith seems to get stronger with each thing I un-figure out, somehow. It's like... it's like... like nothing I can describe.

I think that's the thing, faith is hard because it's blind, not because the truth isn't enough. Our expectations of God are always off because we have no idea what's going on or what should be going on, we have to be hands off about it and that's scary.

But once we have faith like that, I'm guessing, we're not going to have any case to be disapointed in God. Until we start trusting him against all odds and without any reason, how can we get any sense of just how perfect his way of doing things really is? We have to stop looking for him to be this way or that way to fufill our needs before he can start being his own PERFECT self and fufilling our needs in his own perfect way.

We just have no idea.