Thursday, May 31, 2012

In Chains Yet so Vulnerable

Today I went to my pharmacy to get some of my medications. They had given me the wrong dose the previous time and so I had run out twice as quickly as usual. They told me that I needed to call my doctor and have her call in the right prescription (which I've been filling in Arkansas just fine for months) and that I couldn't get any more for five days. I only had enough for one more night. uh oh. Fortunately, my dad and I are on the same medication so I will be able to use some of his till mine can get filled. I got upset when I was telling my parents about how I couldn't get my pills yet. I even got emotional.

This event brought to mind a fear of mine that I've had for a few years now. Since I have type I Diabetes and a few other conditions that I have to take daily medication for, I am at the pharmacy every week or so. I can't get my medicine early, so I have to pick it up a few days before I'm out. This makes me nervous because if there is a problem, like today, it can make it difficult to get a hold of my medicine.

My entire well-being is in the hands of other people. I am at the mercy of the drug companies, and the pharmacy, and the insurance company to get the medication I need to function day-to-day. This is scary. I don't like being at the mercy of these people. Things go wrong, people make mistakes, and I have to pay for them. I already have to keep on top of my Diabetes, and take all my pills at the right times. And it's not cheap either. When you pay nearly two hundred dollars for a couple of months worth of insulin, you aren't able to buy as many shoes as you might like.

This fear of being dependent on others to get my medication goes beyond the run-of-the-mill human error in dosage. It is the fear of what would happen to me in a disaster. If I was in a natural disaster or our country was at war, how would I get the medicine I need? How would I keep them at the proper temperature so they don't spoil? How would I get a hold of sterile needles for my injections? Batteries for my pump? Pills so I can sleep at night? Insulin to keep my blood sugar from reaching dangerous levels? These thoughts make me feel so vulnerable.

I'm connected to an electronic device 24/7. This is normal for me, but sometimes when I stop and think about it,  I realize how precarious my Diabetes treatment is. If I were to go without food or insulin for a day, there would be dire consequences for my body. I feel so trapped. I feel chained to my medication because of my diseases, yet the chains are not strong enough to keep me always supplied with medication. They keep me bound to their medicinal powers, but if they were taken away, I shudder to think what my life would be like. I mean, one of my organs doesn't work properly, and that's just one thing that's wrong with my body.


The thing that keeps me from spinning into a panic is my God. He will always look after me. If I was ever separated from my medication, I know that God would be working something out in His plan. Even if that plan was for me to die soon, I know that He is in control. He is always in control, that's how I can live my life, because of Him. He created me. He allowed me to have these physical problems, and He will carry me through the challenges they present in my life. He doesn't want me to worry about the future, or even tomorrow. So I lay these fears at His feet and ask that He would give me the strength to live each day for Him, and know that He will take care of everything.


"Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."
~Matthew 6:34 NIV


Monday, May 28, 2012

Strong Women; Scared Women

I've been watching more Doctor Who today and found myself really liking River Song, at least for now. I felt even more on her side when I watched her wielding her gun with deadly accuracy in the episode "The Day of the Moon".

Her confidence and butt-kicking ability impressed me and endeared her to me. Why? Women are called to submission. We were created to be the protected, not the protectors. The Doctor was running around with his screwdriver, not doing any damage to the creatures, while his girl was killing them left, right, and center.

This poses an interesting question about me. What is it about strong, female characters that makes them so attractive to me? I want to emulate that behavior, but that's not the "gentle and quiet spirit" (1 Peter 3:4) God finds so beautiful in His Princesses.

Ever since I was a little girl, I've always favored the female characters (not in a lesbian way at all!), and the strong female characters at that.

As a child I remember that my favorite character in Charlie Brown was Lucy Van Pelt.
Snarky, bossy, know-it-all Lucy. Mean Lucy who always, without fail, pulled Charlie Brown's football away.

Then there was Angelica on Rugrats:

Snarky, bossy, know-it-all, mean Angelica. Always telling the babies what to do. Spoiled little girl.

Who could forget the Muppets, and my favorite Drama Queen Miss Piggy!?

 She had her own, very assertive way of doing things and had a mean head-butt when angry.

I was also a fan of Alvin and the Chipmunks, and guess which one I liked best?

 Brittany from the Chipettes of course! Sassy, bossy, drama-queen and the leader of the girls who frequently told the Chipmunks off. No one stole her lime light and got away with it.

Middle school was marked with Pokémon, and which character suited my fancy best? 

Misty. She was always telling Ash off for being a dumb boy and yelling about her bike he destroyed. Misty was a force to be reckoned with. 


Another favorite was Jessie from Team Rocket (the girl on the right). Again, the same sassy girl who was the leader and strong female who was telling her partner James what to do all the time.

Fast-forward a couple of years, Harry Potter enters the scene and I am struck with admiration of a smart girl with bushy brown hair and a thirst for books that is never satisfied. 

Hermione Granger, still a bossy, know-it-all girl, but this time I admired someone who was truly kind and not a drama queen (shocker!) When I was 11 years old I wanted to be just like Hermione. She was never good at combat, not like the other characters were, but that didn't matter. She was smart and kind,  and she was always looking out for her friends.

Why was it so appealing to me for the longest time to like girls who bossed boys around? Why did they need to be so assertive? Why didn't they allow the boys to be the leaders? Maybe it's the Lion personality type in me that liked these types of female characters. I was always such a girly girl that I would seek to identify with the female character I related to best. I think that this created a lot of bad habits in me. This makes me wonder about the power of characters on children--especially lonely little girls. I was searching for an identity, and a way of treating others. As a young child, I did not look for it consciously in the Bible, but was carried along subconsciously by the media.

This taught me that I needed to be in control of situations. And, now that I think back to River and these other characters--they seemed so confident and in-control. I guess I wanted that security in being able to take care of myself. To know that I could be "that good". To know that nothing could happen without my consent. This is a dangerous place to be, especially for a woman. We were designed to be led, not to lead. I crave deep down, not for control, but to be under someone else's control. Yet, because of fear, I am driven to be in control, and that makes me more afraid--like a child who has no boundaries. Besides, I'm not really in control of anything--God is, and it must break His heart to see me scrambling around trying to keep things under control. It's like trying to keep water in my bare hands--it doesn't work.

There is nothing wrong with a woman being a strong character, but her strength must come from the Lord and should not be used to emasculate men or try to keep things going her way. Her strength should be in her surrender, her complete surrender to the creator of the universe who knows her and wants to guide her every step.

Our beauty as women should not come from how we look, or how many men we can control but:
"Instead, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God's sight."                                                  
 ~1 Peter 3:4

My prayer is that God will change my heart. That He would grow in me a "gentle and quite spirit" and that He would teach me how to be more submissive. I am something of a leader, which is a good thing in some circumstances, but in others it is a dangerous and negative thing. I pray that I may be a radiant young woman of God who is beautiful because she submits to Him and reflects His beauty.

One of my favorite passages is Psalm 45:10-17. It is a wedding song, but I read it as though it was written with God as the king and me as the princess. "The king is enthralled by your beauty" (v.11), "All glorious is the princess within" (v. 13). I took this verse and used it in a poster design project at school.  
It is the fruits of the spirit, manifesting inside a young woman of God that make her sparkle. These traits are not "great fighting ability" or "emasculation" but rather they are love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness, and self-control. (Gal. 5:22-23).
I hope that God will continue to grow each of these traits in me, like pearls in an oyster.

Saturday, May 26, 2012

Art Appreciation

I just finished watching the Doctor Who episode about Vincent Van Gogh (Vincent and the Doctor). Wow. That one was really good. If you have not seen it, don't read this post, there will be spoilers.
The focus of this episode was not on the alien, but on the man who painted. Now, I have never liked Van Gogh's paintings as much as the work of other artists, but I cannot deny his skill. (I often prefer realistic to impressionistic paintings) Yet, seeing him portrayed in the show was not what moved me to tears (yes I cried, none of you will be surprised). It was the great gift that the Doctor gave him at the end of the show.

It was painful to watch his paintings being treated so haphazardly early on in the episode; as and artist I am painstakingly careful with almost everything I create. Seeing him paint over one of his paintings made me cringe so much. The depression that haunted Van Gogh was also sad. I know people who suffer from depression and it hurts so much when you want so badly to help, but you must watch helplessly. There is nothing you can do. When someone spirals down like that, it is painful for them and everyone else involved.

When he talked about hearing things and nature calling out at him to paint its beauty and mystery, I could relate. Sometimes I see something and I am seized with the compulsion to try and render it on paper. Often I am inspired by nature, but the human form is my favorite thing to draw, especially females (so much so that for a long time my men looked too effeminate). When I see a blank space on the wall, or a blank sheet of paper, or even a margin in a church bulletin, I am compelled to fill that space. I must create. It is not a desire, but a need. Not a day goes by that I don't draw something, whether it's a 24'' x 18'' drawing or a doodle on a napkin. I have been drawing for as long as I can remember, and I will never stop. I have been given this gift by God and I fully intend to refine my ability and use it for His glory.

The best part of the episode, was when the Doctor took Van Gogh to the museum in Paris in the year 2010 when a great portion of Van Gogh's work was on display there. It moved me to tears to see this man, who was told by everyone that he was a terrible painter, gaze upon the great impact and worth his paintings gained years after his death. To see his tears at hearing the glowing praise of the curator and his wonder at all the people looking at his works was so beautiful.
 As an artist, I don't see much return for my work today. I've won a few things, but the vast majority of my work would not earn a second glance from most. I have folders and folders of things, hidden away from the world, which will likely never see the light of day. I have been blessed with encouragement from my family, friends, and the few things I've won awards for, but Van Gogh didn't have any of that. To see the joy in his face filled me with joy too. To receive praise and appreciation for his work, was the greatest gift (aside from Jesus) that anyone could have given him.

So, since I launched into the subject of my own artwork, I will include a few pieces from my collection of artwork which is locked away in my old toy chest. Pardon the watermarks. I am paranoid about my work getting stolen. Sadly, I did not sign or date any of these so I can only guess at when I painted them. I believe the first two were done when I was a freshman in high school, so about 2006/2007. The other one was done a year later so around 2008 probably.

This was the first painting I ever did. I had purchased a set of acrylic paints and a book about how to paint and I taught myself. The things in this painting were copied from the book.
 This was the second painting I ever did, this image was also copied from the book, although I took liberties with the reeds and added more of them than were in the original.
 This was done a few years later. I think this was the 4th watercolor painting I ever did. I had a watercolor fairies book which inspired me to try watercolor. This painting, however, came completely out of my head. It was inspired by the blossoms from the plum tree in my front yard. I believe I worked from a picture of the tree branch for the background. The fairy was my own design.

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

The Woman in Black

What scares you? What makes you afraid to sleep at night or even close your eyes? What keeps you from looking in the corner of your eyes?

Fear of the unknown is a strong fear indeed.

Yesterday, my mother and younger sister went down to our $3 theater to see Daniel Radcliffe's first post-potter movie: The Woman in Black. The film was the scariest I've ever seen; I was clutching the arm rests and leaning back in my chair through a lot of it. I think I screamed three times and I ended up crying at the end.
Let me make a couple disclaimers, first, if you were even slightly creeped out or disturbed by my mafia stories, do not see this movie. Don't do it. You'll never sleep again. Second, if you are one who enjoys getting scared in a movie (like me) and decides to watch this one, do not watch it alone, especially at night. Third, if you are a frequent scary movie watcher--feel free to make fun of me, I'm a bit of a wimp. 

What follows is my personal thoughts and review of the film. I will keep the spoilers to a minimum, but some minor ones will worm their way in. You have been warned.


The movie opens with three little girls, sisters, playing with dolls and having a tea party. Suddenly they all get up and walk, in a trance, to the three windows in their attic room and drop down to the ground below. The viewer is left looking at the open windows and listening to the girls' mother screaming and sobbing. This is not going to be a happy movie.

The story is about a lawyer, Arthur Kipp, who must go to an old estate on the edge of a marsh, a marsh whose tide covers the road to the house sometimes, and sort through all the paperwork the diseased resident left behind. The town on the other side of the marsh is gloomy and depressed. The filmaking quality of this picture was excellent. Yet, it wasn't until Arthur got to the house that I started to get creeped out.

The walk to the house, shrouded in fog, was enough to make most people turn back. He passed a small cemetary in the woods before reaching the house with it's dead vines and broken down gates.


The pace of the film was slow, especially at first. The camera moved slowly, and as Arthur reached the house, we were given a shot of him from an upstairs window walking up the path; it was as though we were watching him from within the house, and we wondered who else was watching. The shadows prevailed in a time when electricity was not common. Candlelight and the sun coming in through the dust-covered windows gave us enough light to see, but not enough to dispell all the shadows.

This director knew how to shoot a creepy film. Arthur went exploring the house after hearing a sound or seeing something in the corner of his eye and the camera angles were close and tight as though we were Arthur, peering around the corners, trying to see what chose to remain hidden. Sometimes the pace was painstakingly slow because we were slowing moving toward something we wanted to run away from, and the fact that it took a long time to get where we did not want to go made it worse. A constant state of tension. That's how I would describe most of the movie. My sister called it "torture". When he was in the house, there was no rest for me. He would have several false alarms where he wouldn't see something, then the director would suddenly spring the face of the woman upon us, or we would see something at the end of hallway, or a sudden sound would reach our ears, or the music would suddenly climax and startle us as we were given a flash of the demonic spirit still in the house.


I rather enjoyed the film. My sister, mom, and I had the whole theater to ourselves so sometimes we talked, then shushed each other because we were ruining the moment. Ha! We were keeping ourselves from freaking out too much.  

Anyway, I enjoyed being scared by the movie, I didn't find the ending as satisfying as I would have liked, but upon reflection I decided that it was a rather fun movie, if scaring yourself more than you've ever been scared in your life can be called fun. :)

I had a bit of trouble getting to sleep that night, and part of it was due to the fear that the woman in black was standing over my bed. But then, as my mother always encouraged me to do, I carried my fear of the ghost to its logical conclusion: if there was a malevolent ghost standing over my bed, the worst thing it could do was kill me. If that happened, I'd be with Jesus. I don't fear death, in fact, I welcome it. Not in a suicidal way, but I look forward to death because of the wonderful promise of heaven. And so, with that note, I will end this post about ghosts with the hope of Jesus and heaven.

Tuesday, May 22, 2012

He has a Plan

God works in wonderful ways. It's always so amazing to look back on events and see how God orchestrated them to work out so perfectly.

One example of this is with regard to my new housing situation for next year. For those of you who don't know, in the spring I will be moving to a staff member's house to rent one of her rooms. When I look back on this event I see how it came to pass:
I am friends with Shane, Shane knew I loved cats, so when his boss brought a cat into work, he told me about it and I came to play with the cute little thing. I chatted with Shane and his boss for about an hour that day. Later, when I was looking for a new roommate I saw Shane's boss's advertisement on eaglenet. I thought to myself that I would love living with this nice woman. I called her up, only to find that someone had already taken the room. Sad day. So I found a new roommate and signed up to live on campus for the next semester.

Then, a few weeks before the end of the semester, Shane's boss texted me to let me know that the room would be up for rent again in the spring and that I was welcome to come check it out. I have since had several wonderful conversations with her and know that I will fit in well with her and the other people living in her house. I am really excited about moving off campus, it will save my family a ton of money, I will have a room to myself, and a bit more independence.

Clearly God wants me to live on campus next semester, because it didn't quite workout for me to move out in the fall, but the circumstances leading me to even consider living with this woman and her husband worked out so perfectly that I really feel God's hand in it.

Another string of circumstances that still amazes me is one that led me to the book Passion & Purity by Elisabeth Elliot. Because I talked to my passion leader about my call to minister to girls about purity, she connected me to the head of women's passion who did her senior project on purity rings. I went to the coffee shop with her and talked to her for an hour. When I got back to the dorm I saw that she had facebook friend requested me. While looking over her page I found a quote by Elisabeth and I liked it so much I made it my status. This status was seen by my dear friend Lauren who recommended the book and even loaned it to me. I purchased my own copy as soon as I got home and just finished it the other day.

I cannot begin to describe how much of a blessing this book has been in my life. I can't believe how much it has pertained to my current situation. Reading about the feelings Elisabeth had during this time in her life, and how she dealt with them had given me someone to connect to, in a way, since my own feelings have been so similar. It has made me feel less alone. It's one thing to read books by the Ludys who never seemed to talk much about their feelings but simply give a lot of great advice, it's another thing entirely to read a book that is as much about what it feels like as it is what one should do in certain situations. Now, don't get me wrong, I love the Ludys, and some of the reading I have done lately has convicted me even more of certain behaviors I've allowed to become habits, but sometimes you need to hear how it was not a walk in the park and the specific challenges that faced a person.


I guess what I want to end this post will is this verse:
"For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."
                                                                                                              ~Jeremiah 29:11


I know that God has a plan for my life. It is always encouraging to see how He works things out in the most complex ways to bring about His will. My prayer is that I will always be open to His will and following what He wants, no matter the cost.

Friday, May 18, 2012

Lost my Wisdom, Gained a TARDIS

Ah, the first real adventure of the summer: having my wisdom teeth removed. Well, on Monday I went in to have a consultation and set up an appointment to get all four of my wisdom teeth removed. It turned out that the earliest they could get me in was the next morning...say what? Challenge accepted.

I woke up that morning at 6:37am, we were supposed to leave by 7am, I had forgotten to set my alarm, oops. So I got ready in a flash and hopped in the car to take the little under an hour drive to Seattle. On the way I took the first of the two Valium pills I was given. By the time we reached the office I had yawned about a hundred times. I sleepily checked in, took the other pill, and sat down to wait my turn.

Soon enough the nurse came and took me back. They laid my down in the chair and got me ready for the procedure. Now, because of some of my health conditions, they did not want to put me under complete anesthesia so I got Valium and laughing gas. They let the laughing gas fill my body until I felt all tingly and funny. Then they got to work numbing the area with shots. I didn't really care about what they were doing in my mouth. I had my eyes closed through most of the operation and just did what they told me to.

My constant comfort through it all was Jesus. In my mind, I saw Him sitting beside me. He was on a little hill surrounded by trees and a blue sky. My picture of heaven is very nature-oriented and it was like it was opened right at my left hand, while on my right the surgeon was working on my mouth.

The most eventful thing that happened was that I almost passed out. I have passed out once before so I know what it feels like. I was getting dizzy and falling through darkness, but the surgeon and her assistant started talking to me and waking me up so that I would not fall asleep. To avoid falling into unconsciousness, I started humming. The surgeon didn't know what I was humming, but it was "A Whole New World" from Aladdin. I don't know why, but that was the first song that popped into my head. It was also comforting.

Then, not too much later I was done. All my wisdom teeth were out and I was free to go. So, holding the ice pack to my swelling face, I made my way to my Dad who drove me home, where another adventure was waiting for me. I needed a Doctor. :)

But before we get to him, here are some pictures of me:
 the day I got them out (with gauze in my mouth)  
Wednesday night (when my cheeks were at their puffiest)
 and today as the swelling is going down (thank goodness).



Now, onto the next chapter in this blog post:
I found myself flying around the universe with a strange man inside of a blue box. Yes, I had finally entered into the fanbase known as "Doctor Who". Now, I was a companion of the Doctor as he saved the universe, one forty-five minute episode at a time. I was his shortest companion by far, but perhaps the first before Donna who was not smitten with him.


The thing I discovered is that, for me at least, the show's charm lies in the interaction with the Doctor and his companions/recurring characters. The individual episodes were hit and miss as to whether or not I particularly liked them, but I found myself quite enjoying the show as a whole. Some of the aliens looked laughable, especially the green *ahem, gaseous ones from season one and the little "fat babies"from season four.

*Beware if you haven't seen the show through season 4, avast ye matties, there be spoilers ahead!*

Some of my favorite episodes, thus far have included: The Empty Child/The Doctor Dances, Bad Wolf/The Parting of the Ways, The Girl in the Fireplace, Fear Her, Army of Ghosts/Doomsday (Which made me cry!), The Shakespeare Code (mostly for it's Harry Potter references), Daleks in Manhattan/The Evolution of the Daleks, and, my favorite thus far: Blink.

Oh my goodness, I almost scared myself out of sleeping last night. I watched Blink and half of Utopia right before bed, not my best idea. I love the Weeping Angel concept. It is so creepy. Now THAT is what I love in a good scary story. It's not blood and guts that scares me as much as the creeping, unstoppable unknown. The idea that something can't move when you look at it but that is deadly if you turn away..or even blink. Ooooh that's good Moffat, very good. This is why I like really good ghost stories, they are creepy and seem almost in the realm of possibility. This is why I'm phsyched to see The Woman in Black at my $3 theater next week with my mom and sister. Should be creepy. 

Well, that's all I've got for y'all this time. Now, the TARDIS is pulling out and I can't wait to see where it's going to take me next, well, till next time!! Alons-y!!!

Post Script

Upon thinking about my last post, I think I should add this little P.S. to make sure that no misconceptions are formed.

I was not unkind to the guy who asked me out. I did not do anything to intentionally lead him on. Beyond that, lest any of you think that I have made up my mind who I am going to date and am no longer listening to God--I am not. God is the only one with authority in my life, especially in this area. I don't know what He has planned, I only know what I want at the moment, but whatever God says is what I will do. This guy who asked me out, I had no prompt from God about him, I have never liked him that way, I barely knew him anymore, and I felt that (from what I do know) we were too different, and our morals didn't quite match up.

Anyway, this post script is over. If there are any unanswered questions, please just let me know, I hate miscommunications.

Y'all have a post about missing teeth and time lords to look forward to next, however, I feel the need to visit Pompeii first. Allons-y!!

Wednesday, May 16, 2012

I am Amazed and Know Not What to Say

Wow. I'm still reeling a bit. I just got asked out for the first time in my life. But, I'm getting ahead of myself, I should start at the beginning.

Last week, no...before that...a month ago an old friend/acquaintance who I had kept a slight communication up with since he was in Afghanistan, started pestering me to talk to him on facebook a bit, and asked for my phone number. Now, I thought he was just lonely, but I didn't have time to give him my number because I was really busy. He found it on my skype page and started texting me. I texted back, twice, then I got engrossed in stuff at school and forgot about him. I knew he was back in the states and with his buddies, so I wasn't too concerned. Life went on.

At church, the day after I got back, I said hi and he made a point to ask me to have lunch with him that week. I said he could contact me later about it. He did. He called me and asked me to go to Red Robin with him. I told him I'd have to talk to my family about my schedule. I thought it seemed odd, like a date, but everyone in my family said it was just him missing his friends. I argued that we had never been close, but I conceded. Perhaps part of me wondered if he liked me and wanted to see if he would say anything.

Lunch was fun. He was a gentleman and opened all the doors and paid for the meal, I was hoping that he was just wanting to catch up with an old friend. The conversation went well and mostly free of the subject I feared, until...he commented on the "big rock" on my finger. I explained that it was a purity ring. He pressed and asked if I had a special guy, I said that I didn't have a boyfriend. I wanted to explain that I almost did, or that I hoped something would come of a relationship back at school, God willing, but this was not the time. We laughed awkwardly and changed the subject, to the Avengers.

That very movie was what brought things to the present. My sister planned a night where we would go see the Avengers with this guy and two other friends. The movie was great, but then this was my second time seeing it. The car ride home was uneventful, until we reached the driveway. He would be leaving in two days for the military again for a few months before he was out of it for good. He sighed and said goodbye. Then asked if he could talk to me. My sister left me and him in the car. He looked at me in the back seat and told me that he liked me and that he wanted to pursue a relationship with me.

Wow. Now, it was not done in a particularly romantic way, just him asking me in his dim car, but that made it easier to answer him. I told him, in the kindest way possible, how flattered I was, that I wasn't dating at the moment or interested in him, but that I had valued his friendship. Then I said goodbye and went into my house.

I feel sorry for him. I hate to be causing him any pain, but he needed to be told that there was no hope for him to cling to for a future relationship. I've never rejected anyone before, I'd never been asked out by anyone before. I never want to go through this again.

I told one of my friends about it and she summed the experience up well: "Wow, that's crazy."

I always think that there is a lesson to be learned in every experience--especially the painful ones. At this moment, I don't see one here. I don't know why this happened to me. I don't know why this happened to him, but I know that God has a purpose in everything that happens. I must trust in that. I must trust in His will. That is my daily prayer, not my will, but Thine be done.

This was certainly not an adventure I wanted to experience this summer though. Hopefully the next one will be better.

Saturday, May 12, 2012

Never Walk Alone

I've been listening to Matt Redman's song "Never Once" a lot lately. Anyone who watches my Spotify on facebook knows this. :)

This song is especially meaningful to me right now. This past semester has been full of challenges and heartache. Yet, through it all, God has been faithful. I first heard this song when my life was starting to look up again. I had gone to the Gathering, which was unusual for me, and I fell in love with this song.



Never once, in all the pain, did God leave me alone. I know that the only reason I made it through was because He carried me. He was always with me. "Scars and struggles on the way/but with joy our hearts can say/ yes our hearts can say/ never once did we ever walk alone/ never once did you leave us on our own/ you are faithful/ God you are faithful." God has been faithful through my whole life. He has never abandoned me. He is always with me. He was there when my family moved from the south to Seattle, He was there when I was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes, He was there when I started college and left my family, and He was there through the challenges and struggles of this past semester.

It put me in mind of the Christian walk--it is a walk. We are walking side-by-side with Christ. How often do I get distracted by the pretty things along the path? How often do I walk along and ignore Him who walks beside me? How often do I wander along rabbit trails only to go running back to Him in shame?

I am trying to learn how to walk each moment with Him. To keep Him in mind at all times. If I had been doing that all along, I would not have made nearly as many mistakes. I know that He forgives and that I am clean and forgiven, but I want to do better, I want to be better.

Jesus is my Prince, He is the only thing I need. If I have Him, I have everything, so why do I think I need the things of this world?


At the last 24 hour worship time at school I wandered in and saw that they had set up easels and paint supplies. So, I painted a picture of what I hope my walk with Jesus will look like. I am a visual person so I usually picture things in my head to make them real. This picture is but a dim look at the beauty I see in my mind. (And I've edited the painting a bit with Photoshop), but I thought that I would share it, since it's just sitting in a box at school.

It's titled "The Bride of Christ", because that's what we are, and that is the most wonderful thing I can possibly imagine.


Friday, May 11, 2012

All of Me


A verse that has been popping up in chapel services, passion groups, online posts, and my own personal reading lately is Mark 12:30.

"Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength."

This is the greatest commandment according to Jesus. This verse has always seemed to say the same thing four times. Basically, I was convinced that Jesus could have saved His breath and just said 'Love God with all of yourself'. While this is what Jesus is saying, if you don't look at each part He tells you to love God with, you miss the difference in each.

Jesus tells us to love with all our hearts. Now, this is one area that I have not personally had trouble loving God with. My heart and emotions are vast and, especially in the past few years, my love for Jesus has grown in my heart. Now, sometimes I let other things into my heart that I shouldn't, but as of yet, I have not kicked Jesus out of His place as first in my heart.

Next, the soul. This is one's spirituality. Jesus wants us to be spiritually-minded and to love God through our souls--the very core of ourselves. This has also been something that God has blessed me with: Jesus has always been first in my soul. I trust Him to the care of my soul and I know that He is to be gloried and loved above all.

And now we hit the hardest part for me: the mind. Thoughts roam about in my head, and I have not been in the practice of keeping them under control. I have control over them to an extent, yet the other night I was crying out to God because I could not sleep due to the thoughts which were running rampant through my mind.
Something my mother has always said with regard to thoughts is: "You can't stop the birds from flying overhead, but you can keep them from building nests in your hair." As silly as this saying is, I have found a lot of truth in it. Thoughts entering a person's mind are like birds flying overhead, you can't really stop a thought from entering your mind. However, it is my decision what I do with those thoughts: do I kick them out or do I indulge them? I'm not even talking about sinful thoughts necessarily, but I maybe thoughts which are not constructive at the present. Whatever the case may be, I feel that God has placed a call on my heart to start taking control of my thoughts and to learn how to turn them into thoughts of Him. My prayer is that He will teach me how to love Him with my whole mind.

The last thing Jesus lists is strength. I believe that once a person loves God with all their heart, soul, and mind that they will love Him with all their strength--that is their actions. For our actions will flow naturally in the direction of what we are loving with the other three parts of ourselves.






God is faithful, I know that, if I am willing, He will teach me how to love Him with all of me.

Wednesday, May 9, 2012

Distance and Balance

Last night my mom came in to say goodnight and to tell me that she missed me. She has felt that there is an emotional distance between us. In many ways she felt closer to me when I was at school than she does now. To be honest. She's right. I am emotionally distant with everyone here. I don't even have a desire to be with the "friends" who are native to this state of near-constant rain. I feel like I'm going through the motions with them. At least I have more of a desire to be with my family.

As I was sorting through these feelings I began to see just how independent I had become. I am used to operating on my own. I do operate in a new group of peers and profs at school, but for the most part I am independent even of them. I make all my own decisions. So that behavior is somewhat restricted because  I'm stuck in my house all the time. At least at school I had a large campus and even a small town to wander in.

I feel guilty that I'm not really here yet. I wish that I could magically make my feeling change. I wish that I could adjust to my new life as a young adult living at home for the summer quickly. To be honest, though, my family has been so busy with their lives that they've not had much time for me anyway. I've been content to hole myself up in my room and clean things out. (the amount of drawings I threw away yesterday is astronomical)

I guess this has made me ponder what my life will look like after I graduate. Suddenly the question of where to live and how much I want to be involved with my parents is a close and serious question.

Now, I was homeschooled my whole life. So I've been with my mom and sister 24/7 for the past 19 years. And my dad would get days off that we would spend together as a family. This made our family unit really solid, but it has also grown a strong desire for independence in me. Also, my family has not really been involved in my extended families. We try to visit some aunts and uncles on my dad's side once a year, and we see my mom's family once every couple of years (when we can afford it), but that's been the average for my family for the past 10 years. So, for the greater part of growing up, my family operated as a unit of four for every time of year, including all the holidays. And we liked it that way.

So, when I pictured my life after college, I saw myself coming home for holidays, but after I'm married, I see a different story. My first year of marriage I want to be isolated from my family and enjoy being married. I don't want to go to any family member's house for a holiday except for possibly a little time on Christmas day. Then, beyond that I see the balancing act of going to his/my parents' houses for certain holidays and I makes me unhappy. I love my family, and I'm sure I'll love his (I hope), but I have a strong drive to be independent and to mirror what I grew up with: a life mostly missing extended family. I want my children to grow up knowing and being a part of their grandparents' lives, but I don't know what that balance will look like.

At this point, I am a twenty-year-old seeking independence, when I'm graduated and possibly married I may be a twenty-five-year-old seeking to build a better relationship with the parents and in-laws in my life. I guess it will all depend on where God places me and what desires He puts in my heart at the time.

And this was a really long and semi-depressing ramble. If anyone makes it through, bless you, and my sincerest apologies.

Monday, May 7, 2012

Alone at Home

How is it that I can understand the transition college students go through in theory, yet it still gets me when I see it in my own life? I just had a wonderful time out with my family seeing the Avengers (which is insanely epic) and I babbled and gushed about the movie as usual, but my mom was working to get my Dad and sister to talk about their feelings. I shut up, but then when everyone had asked everyone but me questions about the movie (beyond general "it was awesome" comments) I began to feel left out.

Then coming home, they were embroiled in a debate about what needed to be done this week and I was surprised to note that it had nothing to do with me. Now, I'm not egotistical, but before I left for college, the four of us were all interconnected, and for various reasons, I was given a large voice and a lot of time and attention. Now, coming back, I see that my family has grown accustomed to my absence.

Now, don't get me wrong, I've changed too. I'm much more independent than I was before I left. In fact, I was the one talking to the hostess at the restaurant and the one saying that we would all take water to drink. I'm used to being on my own--or at least not under my parents. And they are used to not having me here. This is going to take some adjusting. I hadn't realized this fully until today.

And I guess the hardest part is that I'm not really happy to be home. I'm not. I wish that I was at college starting anther set of classes, or that I was only home for a month. I have never dreaded a summer more in my life. I did not want to say goodbye to all of my great friends. I did not want to stop being on a class schedule. I did not want to leave my freedom behind to come back to the nest. I feel like a young bird who has to return to it's comfortable, yet lonely cage for 3.5 months before being allowed to fly back to her friends and her freedom. I haven't been happy since I got back. I can only hope that it will get better, and that I will find things to keep me busy till that blessed day in August when I can return to the wonderful kingdom of Jayboo where all my friends will be.

Freshman year flew by on angels' wings. I can only hope that this summer will fly by equally fast.

Sunday, May 6, 2012

Title Page

At the end of his series, The Chronicles of Narnia, C.S. Lewis wrote about the wonders of heaven as he imagined them. This chapter filled me with so much joy and happiness that I cried through most of it. One of the profound things he said about heaven was how it related to our life here on earth:

"And as He [Aslan] spoke, He no longer looked to them like a lion; but the things that began to happen after that were so great and beautiful that I cannot write them. And for us this the end of all the stories, and we can most truly say that they all lived happily ever after. But for them it was only the beginning of the real story. All their life in this world and all their adventures in Narnia had only been the cover and the title page: now at last they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story which no one on earth has read: which goes on for ever: in which every chapter is better than the one before.”

This is such a wonderful picture of how our life here on this earth compares to the glory of heaven. Though it seems, to a twenty-year-old college student, that a lifetime on earth will stretch for a very long time, it is but the title page of my story. The story God is writing through me. It is of immeasurable comfort to know that He is the author, yet I must remember to not take the pen from His wise hand. I want Him to write me a beautiful story, but if I try to take control, I might write myself a horror story by mistake.

Yet, no matter what happens in this life, I know that I am destined for eternity with Him. So I death is not something I fear, but rather an event that marks the turning of the page from the Title Page to the first chapter of the greatest adventure story ever told. And, since I'm a book-loving nerd, I know what makes up the great stories, and I know that they carry but a tiny taste of what God has waiting for those who believe in Him. So my prayer is that God will help me to grow to be more like Him here on earth till that day when I shall join Him in heaven and join the greatest adventure. After all, my name, Gabrielle, means "God is my strength" or "God's heroine" and I hope that I am able to be used to accomplish whatever He wants me to accomplish. I give my life up to the great author of life, and know that my life is safest in His hands. 

The Prolouge

Once upon a time, there lived a young princess who grew up in a land where it rained almost all the time. This princess didn't mind the rain, but when she turned 19 she was ready to leave her palace in the land of the sparkling vampires and travel to a new place. She decided to go to a University, where she met many wonderful people and made many new friends. She spent the next nine months having a wonderful time, then she went back to her palace for the summer. However, she did not want to lose touch with her good friends, and wanted to keep a log of her summer adventures; hence, she created this blog to record all the exciting things that are sure to happen to her this summer. She also hopes to post artwork as she explores her gifts and talents given to her by the King of Kings. So, to all my friends from the kingdom of Jayboo, this is my summer story...