Fall is Coming!

          Shhhh... do you hear that? That, my friends, is the sound of hope returning. It is the light at the end of the tunnel. It is the whispering winds of autumn, sweeping in on the coattails of the most dreadful of summers.
          Somebody grab the light sweaters and pumpkin lattes because I am SO ready for autumn.
          I think that I have made my disdain for summer, or more specifically, summer's HEAT, quite clear, so it should be no surprise that the coming of the fall months offer a respite and relief.
          Plus, who doesn't love the leaves changing colors, and the rainstorms and the overcast skies and... oh it's glorious. I can't talk about it anymore, or I'll cry when I realize that summer is not actually over yet.
          But I digress: it is coming, and I am happy.
          And... that's it. This is a rather curt blog post, but I had to share my joy with my nonexistent, faceless internet audience.
     

Anger Management

          If there are any regular readers of this blog, (doubtful, I've seen the stats...) you might remember a poem I wrote not too long ago about anger. This is because I have a difficult time controlling my temper and as such needed an outlet for which to channel my fury. The result was my unedited, not-so-fantastic poem. Writing helps quell my rage, (as does songwriting, which is technically another form of writing but seems to me to be a different creature entirely,) and so I turn to pen and paper (or computer, as is now evidenced,) and scribble away like a madman until my heart rate calms down a bit. I honestly wish that I had a punching bag in my room. It would make life so much easier. Between that and my terrible writing, I would probably be able to manage my temper pretty well. Who has the emotional capacity to be upset when they've exhausted themselves physically and mentally by writing their hearts out and beating the non-living daylights out of a defenseless punching bag? Not I, sir.
          That, and music. They've always said that music can tame the beast, and in my case, I wholeheartedly agree. I am the first to admit that I am an absolute monster when I am angry. Then again, I don't know many people who are pleasant to be around when they are angry. But music seems to soothe me quite a bit. So the combination of music and writing works as a tonic, and slowly but surely anger seems to seep out of me until it's all but gone. Sadly, I'm convinced that it's never truly gone. I am all but certain that every emotion lives in varying degrees at all times within us. Even when we are our happiest, we are never truly rid of the sadness and the anger and all of those negative emotions. The same can be said when we are feeling negative emotions too, I think. When you're angry, you might not feel happy at all, but many times I've seen someone horrible furious and then, suddenly be made to laugh. We're complex creatures, and I believe that we feel many emotions all the time. We just aren't that good at discerning them.
          Right now, I am writing because I am angry. I have no problem admitting that. I am human, and therefore imperfect, and although it is often difficult for me to admit my flaws, it is honest and it is healthy. As a result of my imperfections, and my anger, I have been sitting here, typing away, babbling on about my anger management because... I need that release. Everyone has their own release, some healthy, some not, some lie in between. It's interesting, isn't it, how we can all be so different and yet so similar underneath? We all cry, we all bleed, we all smile, we all love, we all hate, we all hope, we all dream... everyone gets angry.
          So, I am sorry with taking up your time with my angry writings. But I do feel slightly better now, so I guess it had some value.
         

Hypocrites and Homophobes

Warning: this blog post may offend some people. You have been warned.  


Well if there's ever a title that will grab attention and make people angry or defensive, it's the one I just used. I'm sure I'll think of more, but for now that one takes the cake. Generally, it's because people go up and arms when the terms "hypocrite", "homophobe", or "homosexual", are used, and even more so when all three are used together.
These terms in particular have been on my mind a lot lately, and I thought I might address them. I'm not lesbian, bi, or transsexual, but I know some people who are, and they are people I love dearly. The issue in particular that I have been thinking on is the unstable relationship between the Christian and LGBT communities. You see, Christianity is a faith that is based on love. Matthew 22:35-40: "One of them, an expert in the law, tested him with this question: “Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?”
Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.” And I understand that some parts of the Christian community are not very good at practicing those 5 verses. Of course, no one is perfect, (and any Christian, or any person for that matter, that claims to be perfect is severely misguided,) and I will concede that it is very difficult to love everyone all of the time, that is not an excuse to HATE on people.
In particular, people often bash on the Christian church for hating on the LGBT community. That makes me very sad, because although I don't know any Christians like this, I have heard and seen evidence of such actions, and I am sorry for it. And while I am not denying that there are people who profess to be Christians and then turn around and express hatred to the world, but before I launch into my main point here, I would just like to point out something. I'm a Christian, and many of the people I know would call themselves the same. I know some who are staunch supporters of gay rights and some who are themselves homosexual. I know some who disagree with homosexuality but don't point fingers and judge and hate and spew absolute venom with their words when discussing the subject. There are Christians out there who try to do what Jesus said, and love others. They don't raise their eyebrows in disgust when they're introduced to someone's partner. They are decent, loving people and they exist.
That being said, the garish caricature of the homosexual-hating Christian still exists, and it is that particular viewpoint that I wish to address.
And before I do so, I am going to remain silent on my opinion about homosexuality. Because honestly, whether I support it or not, I want the words I say to make an impact on both those who support it and those who don't. (You know, if anyone reads this at all.) I don't want what I am trying to say here to be over-ridden by my opinion on the matter.
And so, without further adieu: the point. (Here there be many cries of "IT TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH!")
The reason for such hatred from the Christian community in regards to the LGBT community, and vice versa in some cases, is the verse from Leviticus 18:22- "You shall not lie with a male as one lies with a female; it is an abomination." The thing that people get hung up on here is the word "abomination". I would guess that there is no one out there that likes to be called an abomination, especially for something that is a part of them. And some Christians can't see past that word, and cry out that homosexuality is a sin and therefore anyone who identifies as such needs to be condemned and hated on and forced to change something that they believe that they cannot change, regardless if they can or not. (Which makes me so angry. I'm sorry, but if you want someone to change something about themselves, what on earth makes you think that anger and hatred and vile behavior will coerce them into changing? People can be so ignorant.) Here's the thing that people fail to realize... (specifically the people claiming to be Christians who are so full of hate,) if homosexuality is a sin, what makes it any worse than your sins? The Bible clearly says in Romans 3:23- "for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God..." That means everyone. Yes, even you, the pompous and self-righteous person carrying the angry sign. Matthew 7:1-5 says “Judge not, that you be not judged. For with the judgment you pronounce you will be judged, and with the measure you use it will be measured to you. Why do you see the speck that is in your brother's eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when there is the log in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother's eye." If you are a sinner, (which you are, according to Romans 3:23,) than you have no right to judge others for sinning. That would make you a hypocrite. Which you are already if you are not obeying the two greatest commandments as stated by Jesus. (Hint: They have to do with LOVE.)
Everyone falls. Everyone sins. Everyone makes mistakes. We're human. Christians can be tempted to be uppity and self-righteous because of their faith. And I understand that. That happens to many people, Christian or not. But deliberately hating on people? That's hypocrisy. I hate to break it to you, but that is sin, my friends. And if you are so against homosexuality because you believe it is a sin, doesn't that put you in the same boat as them?
I am aware that this is a touchy topic for many, but I am not sorry if this offended you. I am sorry that you feel offended, but for me to be sorry would be to go back on everything I said. I don't believe that hatred is the answer to anyone's problems, and I won't take that back.
Something to think about maybe?

Summertime

          I particularly loathe myself for doing this, but I am going to write another post that is not part 2 of the death post I wrote earlier.
          I will get to it, my brain just works out of order. And I'm pretty sure that my blog doesn't really have regulars. I know I don't write often, but the views are so... sporadic. I don't think anyone will care.
          That being said... let's talk about summer.
          Summer. 
          At the risk of being shot, let me just say this: I hate summer.
          Okay, perhaps that was a bit harsh. I don't hate summer, per se, I... dislike it with great intensity.
          I mean, there are certain things that I like about summer, to be sure, it's just...
          THE HEAT.
          Oh, the heat. The terrible, awful, no-good, very-bad heat. It drives one insane. It makes you want to hop a plane to the Arctic and live there in the freezing cold forever.
          And yes, the heat is the reason that autumn is so wonderful when it finally arrives, and it's the reason swimming is so nice because it offers a break from the searing heat. Aside from that, I see no value in this particular season. Or temperature.
          The worst thing about the heat, I would imagine, is that it makes you feel so... slow. Lethargic. Like you're wading through molasses, even while performing the most mundane and easy tasks. Personally, my brain feels like it's only working at about half of it's normal capacity. (No smart quips about my writing. I am aware it needs improvement, and I don't blame that on the heat.) The traditional school calendar probably takes a break during summer because honestly, who can expect students to learn or turn out exceptional work with the infernal temperatures?
          Yes, I did just feel like ranting. My apologies if this seems like an enormous waste of your time.
          Take care to put on sunscreen during these horrible few months.

Anger

     Okay, I know I was supposed to do part 2 of my post about death, and I promise, that's coming soon. But sometimes I work out of order. It's how my brain is. So, while I am working on that, I thought I would post a poem of sorts. About anger. It's not the best, but I like it and am considering writing about a few other emotions. We'll see how that goes I guess.

     So, without further adieu:

            Sometimes, you don’t know it’s there at first. Sometimes, it comes upon you all at once, bubbling, broiling, filling your chest cavity with heat and passion and ferocity you didn’t know you possessed.

It takes root in your heart and it spreads it’s stalk, then it’s leaves, then it’s buds, throughout your entire body, and shoots it’s tendrils into your arms and legs.

 It tangles itself throughout your ribcage, curling and knotting around your bones.

It integrates itself deep into your core. It becomes a part of you.

And you can sit there, quietly, not even knowing the evil that’s growing inside you.

Anything can set it off, really. Once you start caring for it, nurturing it, letting it grow, the buds deepen in color and prepare themselves to bloom.

And then something they say tips the scale. One callous word can cause it to flower.

There is nothing comparable. When it flowers, it’s bloody red petals open up, and the pollen once trapped inside bursts into your veins. Carried throughout your entire body; your infected heart pumping it up into your brain.

It’s like a disease. The incurable, dastardly, all-consuming rage, a virus zooming through your body and ultimately exiting… though your mouth. Through your fists.

You can’t stop it. I can’t; I’ve tried.

Because it’s inside of every one of us, lying dormant until it is provoked. It can bloom, for a while. After it has run it’s course we prune it, water it, coddle it, until it has need to bloom again.

We don’t even realize just how much we care for it until the seasons change, and it explodes into it’s deep, caustic, malicious hues of scarlet and maroon.

The only way to eradicate it is to pull it out by the roots.

But that might kill us, you see. It is rooted in our hearts. 

The Second Act (Scene 1)

          I've been thinking a lot about life lately, and the strange twists and turns that it can take. For instance, here, in this moment, I'm going in a direction with my life that I never would have even considered 3 years ago. (Not that something significant happened 3 years ago to change my mind, but 5 years seemed too long. 4 is not the number to which I shalt count. 5 is right out. Okay, I'm done with the Monty Python references now.) It's strange though, how life and our experiences can completely change our viewpoints on some things. And how things can change so quickly. One second your life can be one way, and the next second everything you thought you knew has changed.
          Life is so changeable. More than that, life is so fragile.
          Cue the lead in for a talk about death.
          (By the way, I really don't know where this is coming from. I honestly don't.)
          I know that this is a sobering topic, and one that people like to avoid or skirt around or make light of or what have you, but death is a reality for all of us. One day, our life on this earth will come to an end and there's really nothing that we can do about it.
          A lot of people are afraid of dying, I know. Whether it be fear of dying in a painful, undesirable way, or fear of the end of their story and life as they know it or fear of the unknown, people fear death. It's something intangible, but inevitable. It cannot be tested or tried out, because once you die, that's pretty much it. You can't come back and tell others what exactly happened. (For any of you out there who believe in ghosts: I don't. I'm sorry, I don't mean to offend anyone, but I don't believe in ghosts and therefore this aside right here is the only serious feature that ghosts will get on my blog. If you have an opposing viewpoint, that's fine. I'm not here to brow-beat anyone into believing something that they don't want to. I am completely against that tactic. But that is a post for another time.)
          So, today, let's take a look at a subject that is quick to irritate/offend/scare people: the afterlife.
          As one who is thoroughly addicted to mythology, and one actually enjoys researching certain topics, (topics that I find pertinent and useful, anyways,) I have come across many theories on the afterlife. There is of course, the theory that death is the end of everything and nothing comes after your life on earth. It's the end of the show, no curtain calls. (Ah, now I can tie in the analogy in the title. If your life was a one-act play, the "afterlife" would be act 2.) There's the ghost theory. (I'm sure that most of us are familiar with the concept of ghosts, so I won't trouble myself further by explaining it.) Reincarnation is another theory.
          I don't agree with any of the above theories. If I haven't made it obvious by now with my previous blog posts, let me fix that grievous mistake right now: I am a Christian. I believe that Jesus Christ was crucified on the cross and rose from the dead three days later as the payment for our sins, and that salvation through Him is the only way to get to heaven and spend eternity with God. I believe in heaven, and in hell, and in a life after this one.
          It's a hopeful kind of viewpoint, and I am aware that, as such, Christians get some criticism. While I don't have time to depict every nuance of Christianity, however, I find the argument that Christianity is some sort of fairytale meant to make everyone feel better about death and dying and the wrong in the world and all that, to be a little silly. Honestly, anyone who has done any research on the Christian faith can tell you that the majority of what's in the Bible is not all rainbows and butterflies. There is talk of sin, punishment, war, judgment, fighting, prostitution, murder, drunkenness, betrayal, immorality... and I'm not just talking about the Old Testament. That is not to say that there are not more pleasant topics to be found in the Bible, like love and forgiveness, but to say that Christians just believe a bunch of feel-good topics to make themselves feel better about life is an argument that is erroneous, to say the least.
          This is just a little bit of an introduction to a topic I plan to spend talking about in depth. I will cover my own viewpoint, as well as take a look at some other viewpoints out there. It's inevitable, so even though some of us don't like talking about it, I think we should.
          It's something to think about. Not to obsess over, but to mull over perhaps.

Fear vs. Fear

Hello everyone!
This blog post was written by my wonderfully fantastic friend Megan. (You can follow her poetry blog here: http://hungryfishpoetry.blogspot.com/) It is an excellent piece of writing, concerning fear, doubt, worry, and the like, that she wrote specifically for my blog. So, enjoy!

"I've been thinking about fear a lot recently. Everybody has something that triggers this bitter feeling. Maybe it's a fear of rejection, a fear of pain, or anything else. 1 John 4:18 says "There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love." Yet, knowing this, I am conflicted by the use of the word 'fear', because through the Old Testament AND the New Testament people are said to be God-fearing, or filled with a fear of God. I am confused and conflicted. 2 Timothy 1 says we weren't made with a spirit of timidity or fear, but again, the fear of God issue... I think the problem lies in the word itself. I find this to be a failing of the English language! Rather than one meaning to a word, we stave every word to a host of names. I think the fear issue I have should be rested like this: fear of God: respect, reverence, and love of God. An unwillingness to disappoint Him. I think God wants us to be bold and courageous. Now, courageous people don't have an absence of fear; they have a determination to overcome it. I'm sure firefighters have a healthy respect and fear of fire, but they master it. Surgeons, I feel confident saying, fear messing up a procedure. Again though, they overcome it. I think that's where God wants us to be. We are permitted to be unsure of our abilities, but we should be bold in our relationship with Him. After all, Philippians 4:13 says "I can do all things through Him who strengthens me." I think the Biblical admonishments against fear can be further clarified like this: "Don't worry. You may not be able to do it in your own strength, and it's fine to recognize that. In God's strength, however, anything can get done. Trust Him."
So, perfect love (le God) drives out doubts, worries, and inability. God wants us to trust Him and to live boldly, day by day. Let God worry about the big stuff, the small stuff, the scary stuff, and all the stuff. We should just concern ourselves with obeying Him."

Wanderer

          I've been in such a struggle lately. I've come to a crossroads and I'm stuck there, with no map, no direction, and no destination. 

          For, while it is a horrible thing to be lost, it is even more horrible to be on a journey and not have a destination. And I would know. I have been in both situations. When you are lost, you at least know where you are supposed to be going. If you can be found, or find your way back to the path, you are set to rights again. There is at least the hope of finding your way. Not so when you have no destination. You don't know where you're supposed to be going and so you just... wander. You endlessly wander with no purpose until your life whittles away, pointless. 

         Depressing? Yes. Entirely. But true nonetheless. People are meant to have destinations. We are meant to have goals, aspirations, dreams... it's how we're made. We're built to always be heading towards something. So what happens when there is nothing that you're heading towards? Do you go mad? I mean, there is a difference between heading towards something through the mist, even if you don't what it is, and just meandering around in circles because you don't know where you're supposed to be going. It is a conundrum. 

         When you have no direction, no heading, there is not a map in the world that can help you. GPS does no good. And the advice of a million people can offer no relief because you don't know what you want. It makes you think, doesn't it? What are your priorities? What is it, exactly, that you are heading towards? How can you chase something that just isn't there?

         What happens when you just wander? Wandering gets you nowhere. 

          It's a question that has been on my mind a lot lately. Because I am at a place where I need to make a decision, but I don't even know the options in front of me. And if you don't even know the choices, how can you be sure to pick the right one?

          I seem to have only questions, and no answers. 

          And at the end of the day, I can write as many blog posts as I want, use as many analogies as my brain can think of, and describe this hopeless situation a thousand times over. Analyzing things and mulling over problems can offer new insight and provide an explanation that you overlooked before. But, as with so many things in life, there may be no set right answer. 

          Have you ever read a "Choose Your Own Adventure" book? If you have, and you're anything like me, you will have been through one book at least fifty times, trying to get every possible scenario. Hours wasted, ripping through just one adventure, trying to make all the right choices so that you get the best ending. The thing about those books, though, is that you can go back and make the right choices. If you have to make a decision, and you made the wrong decision before, you can make the right decision by process of elimination. Life isn't like that. You make the decisions that you make, and if they are the wrong decisions, there are no do overs. You don't get to flip back to the beginning of the book and try again. 

         This brings us to the fear factor. Because, when faced with big decisions, (even something as ambiguous as a goal for your life,) we fear making the wrong choice because it can negatively impact our lives. We've all made a bad decision, and it has scarred us. We become reluctant and second guess ourselves and can't even pick a destination because we are uncertain. We are afraid. 

          And so, we wander. Because wandering around in a comfortable little rut is better to us than the unknown. Is it indecisiveness that leads us to this place? Or fear? Or some deadly combination of both? And does that even matter? Because when you are in that place, when you become the wanderer, there is only one thing that matters: escape. You have to escape the endless wandering, and find a destination. Maybe someone rescues you from that place or maybe you just select a place, somewhere in the distance, and head towards it as a lifeline. But you have to get out of there, because when you wander, you go nowhere. 

          It is not an easy thing to do, to leave the nomadic style of thinking. And a little wandering can be okay. That's called exploring, and sometimes it's a necessary thing to do. But wandering forever? That leads to a life spent in the realm of the comfortable and unchanging. If you don't invest in risks, then you can't expect change, either positive or negative. 

Take Your Blinders Off

          Alright, you can thank chickens for the inspiration for this post.
          I am serious.
          I am about to write an analogy that would make any professional public speaker proud. And it's all because of... chickens. There. I admitted it.
          Chickens are very, VERY simple animals. They aren't that bright. I mean, have you ever observed chickens? They kind of just... exist. Not that they aren't helpful, they produce eggs, eats insects, and provide chicken nuggets. But a chicken's life is very mundane. They wander around, pecking at the ground (and occasionally, each other,) they eat and drink and lay eggs and that's about it. It's a boring life, certainly, but for a chicken, it suffices.
         (I can't believe I'm writing about chickens...)
         Anyways, I went out to feed the chickens the other day. And there they were, just kind of bumbling around, looking for all the world like they were the most bored animals on the face of the planet. That is, they did look bored. Until I walked up. Suddenly, they all became one giant mass of wings, beaks, and feathers as they crowded by the door, clucking like there was no tomorrow.
          I guess they were hungry...
          Now, let me explain something to you. A mass of chickens, clucking and pecking and staring at the scoop of food in your hand like it's the Holy Grail can be very intimidating. At the very least, the moment you step into the pen they will flock around your feet and try to consume them until your pour the food out. They might leave a present on your foot. It's not an ideal situation. To avoid this, I opened the door and flung the food into the pen, throwing accuracy to the wind. They got the food. I kept my feet. I would say that it was a pretty good trade off. However, they don't receive one scoop of food, but four. FOUR. And flinging the food into the pen haphazardly really only works once. You have to spread it out so they don't kill each other. And I really didn't want to be surrounded by a bunch of bloodthirsty chickens. (Erm... bloodthirsty may be a bit of an exaggeration...) But here's the thing about chickens. They. Are. Stupid. Absolute idiots. And it's not really their fault... but that doesn't change the fact that they're completely brainless.
          So really, all you have to do to avoid being swarmed by chickens is outsmart them. It's not that hard.
          The chickens were completely fascinated by the food already in their, fighting over the small portion. I left the door open, quietly went for another scoop, and tiptoed into the coop, pouring out the second scoop in the corner. A few chickens noticed and ran over, but I was out of their way by the time they started viciously pecking the feed. I repeated this two more times, and closed the door on my way out. Chickens, fed. Mission accomplished.
          Right now, if you have made it thus far, you are staring at your computer screen with a mixture of disbelief and confusion. The thoughts running through your head probably sound something like this: "...what? Why do I need to know this? Why do I care? ...I must be really bored..."
          I have a point, I swear. I wouldn't drone on about chickens for no reason.
          You see, I was able to leave the door of the coop open and feed the chickens without being swarmed because I knew that they wouldn't leave the food placed in front of them. If they happened to be one of the few that noticed the new pile of food, they would run over there, but they wouldn't follow me. And they wouldn't leave.
          They were so wrapped up in the food in front of them that they didn't even stop to think that by following me (the one who brought them food,) they could find the source of the food and get more than they ever imagined. They didn't think about going out the open door and seeing what they could find. (You know... not that chickens think...)
          And so, I knew that I could leave the door open while feeding them and not worry about them following me or leaving.
          Then something struck me. We act like those stupid chickens sometimes.
          Before you get offended, think about it. Actually think about it. Search your feelings, you know it to be true. (Okay. I couldn't resist the reference.)
          We have so little ambition sometimes. We give up on our hopes and dreams because the pile of food in front of us is fine. It's not the best, and there are a million other chickens fighting us for it, but it's right in front of us. It's easy.
          What became of our dreaming? Anyone who says that dreaming isn't productive because it's unrealistic is not realistic, but rather unimaginative. We give up on our dreams, on what's out there that might actually be better, because it isn't easy. Because it isn't realistic.
          Tell me which is more fulfilling: a life spent chasing your dreams and reaching your goals, failing sometimes but always confident that you are going after what you love? Or a life lived in a rut, in which you give up on your dreams because they aren't realistic and spend your life doing what you hate?
          I will take the first option, please.
          The easy thing is almost never the right thing. If it is your dream to be an astronaut, why give up because it "isn't realistic"? That's an absolutely preposterous thing to say. I believe what you meant is that it isn't common for someone to be an astronaut. Of course it's realistic. We have astronauts, don't we?
          The world will try to tell you not to chase after your dreams. They will tell you to accept a mundane life because that's what's normal. But if you do chase your dreams and fight for what you believe, doesn't that make it all the more fulfilling?
          So, in the words of one of my favorite movies: "Go... live your dream." (Alright... it's Tangled. I'm sorry, but that movie is adorable.)

Valentine's Day

          I think everyone is aware that Valentine's Day is coming up in less than a week. (And if they aren't aware, they either don't own a calendar or they live under a rock.) Now, I understand that this holiday is all about "love" but what I don't understand are the expectations that come with this holiday. They seem to be as follows:
          1. It is absolutely essential that you have a boyfriend/girlfriend/spouse for this holiday.
          2. It doesn't matter if you only date a person because you don't want to be alone on Valentine's Day. Who knows? It could lead to something.
          3. If you have a special someone, you must buy them a gift.
          4. If you don't have a special someone, you are honor bound to be bitter and denounce Valentine's Day as stupid and pointless.
          Although "Valentine's Day" was originally a day set aside to celebrate Saint Valentine, obviously the focus of the holiday has changed. Which isn't in itself a bad thing. But our interpretation of love and romance is so warped that we have come up with the above expectations, and more, because we don't get the concept.
          Let's start with point number one. Exactly why is it so important to have a date for Valentine's Day? Before you start looking at me like I'm crazy, I'm not saying it's a bad thing to have a date. I know it's a nice thing to have someone special to share Valentine's Day with. But why is it so important to have a date for Valentine's Day itself? Wouldn't you rather just wait for the right person to come along instead of running around trying to find someone and rushing into a relationship so you can have Valentine's Day plans? The whole obsession with having a "valentine" seems to kill the romance of it all. Think about it. Which is more romantic? "We've been dating for a while and on Valentine's Day we're going to go out to dinner and take a walk under the stars." (Cheesy, I know, but hear me out.) Or: "We've been dating for a day and we know nothing about each other besides the fact that we're both good looking and didn't have a date for Valentine's Day." 9 out of 10 dentists agree, the first choice is best. (I know. Lame reference. But the point has been made.)
            Second expectation kind of follows the first. If you are so wrapped up in having someone, you lose the romance. There is nothing special about trying to get into a relationship just because you want to be in a relationship. Like those people who are in new relationships every few weeks. (And don't accuse me of exaggerating. I know you know people like this.) The only reason they're in and out of relationships so often is because they only want to be in a relationship. They don't really care who it's with as long as the person makes them feel special. It's the same thing with trying to get a date for Valentine's Day. You are so desperate to have someone that you stop really caring about who it is. Instead of finding someone special, you just find someone who's available. And there is a difference. Don't settle for just anyone because you want a date.
          Point three is a little easier to understand. I don't agree with it, but I can understand it. Personally, I think if you love someone, you shouldn't have to buy them flowers, chocolates, and a card to prove it. Call me a sentimentalist, but I think that it's the thought that counts. But that's just me.
          This last point is probably the one that baffles me the most. It's just... bitter. Just because you're single on Valentine's Day doesn't mean that you have to hate everyone who isn't. It doesn't mean you have to hate the holiday or oppose it or call it a scam cooked up by the greeting card company. And being single doesn't mean that you're alone either. It's tempting to want to sulk around and feel bad because there are so many couples in love and you aren't in a relationship, but don't fall into that trap and don't be bitter. Your special someone will show up someday, and they will be all the more special because you waited for them and didn't get into a relationship just for the sake of being in a relationship.  
          Above all, remember that at it's very essence, Valentine's Day is just a silly holiday. And it's cute and it's fun and sweet and all that but it's certainly nothing to get upset over. Just enjoy the day.

Amazed

          Are we ever truly amazed anymore?
          Sometimes we get surprised. Sometimes we feign shock. But in all honesty, how many of us have been amazed recently?
          "Amaze: to overwhelm with surprise and sudden wonder; astonish greatly" (Thank you dictionary.com)
          Do you remember when you were little, and everything was amazing? (Not in the sense we use it in now. We say "amazing" to mean great. I mean amazing as in it "overwhelmed you with sudden wonder".) No matter how cynical you are, or your circumstances growing up, at some point you were amazed at something. And maybe you can't even remember, but deep down inside of you, you know that feeling of complete and utter amazement. What have we done to ourselves, that as we grow older, we lose that special sense of amazement?
          Today I was reflecting on a few things that have happened recently, and I had the odd thought trickle across my mind: "It amazes me that God can use someone like me to do His work." The thought took me by surprise, not because it's not something that I would say, but because of the word "amaze". I tend to use the word "amazing" a lot, but I don't use it in the literal, dictionary definition sense of the word. But in this particular thought, consciously or subconsciously, I did. It had struck me that God can use someone as broken and messed up as I am to help someone else. The blind leading the blind, except for when You follow Him and He's leading you, the blind now have someone who can see to lead them. And that thought actually, literally amazed me. It surprised me and filled me with a sense of wonder. And a sense of gratitude, that someone like me could be useful. And have value. (But that's a different blog post.)
          And then I got to thinking how wrong it was that I am not constantly amazed by the works of God. I mean, think about that for a second. I know the almighty, holy, sovereign Lord of all who beyond all human sense and reason cares about me, and yet I am not continually awestruck, overwhelmed with surprise as each moment passes and I see His greatness. Have we as a society become so distracted, so disillusioned, so... cynical that we can't be amazed at the most amazing thing in our lives? Just because He's always present and always good doesn't mean that the amazement should wear off. Because we should be completely astonished that He is still good and still merciful to us as each minute ticks by and we continue to stumble and fall over and over again. Because we just can't imagine what it is like to unselfishly love somebody who sometimes doesn't even acknowledge your presence, who forgets about you and is constantly questioning you and getting angry with you. Who hurts you routinely. And because this is so far outside of what we can comprehend, it should amaze us. Always. 
          Amazement is that thing that takes your breath away. It shocks you, but not in a negative sense. It opens your eyes a little more.
          Since when did it become a bad thing to be completely filled with wonder anyway? That moment when you realize something that completely rocks your world. We seem to shun it, to shrug it off as childish or ignorant. If you didn't realize something before, then you certainly wouldn't admit to the world that you are just now realizing it. I want to challenge that. I submit that those who allow themselves to be amazed are not childish and ignorant, rather they are mature and wise. They understand that they aren't the most important, and that this world is a lot bigger than we like to pretend. It is a wonderful thing, to be amazed. Try to find a little amazement on a daily basis. It sets a particular focus and brightens up any day.

Trying to Fill a Void

Emptiness, part 2:

               “Danielle, pick up babe.” The only reply to Bryan’s plea was the faintly static silence that told him there was no chance that Danielle was going to answer her phone. “I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you. It was the alcohol, I swear. I would never hit you baby.” Still silence. Nothing but that eerie silence. Frustrated, Bryan hung up and hurled a fist at the wall. It connected with a stud, causing him to yell expletives and cradle his wounded hand. Obviously it was going to take more than sniveling and apologizing to get her back. He had never seen her so hurt before. The cavern in his chest that she had created when she left hurt him worse than the ache for alcohol he felt. He needed her.

                His lethargic frame sagged against the wall and he let out a pitiful moan. Again, he dialed her number and waited hopelessly as the phone rang and rang. And then-

                “Bryan, stop calling. Please. I don’t want to talk.” Her voice was like a salve to his aching heart.

                “Dani, please just listen, it’s not my fault-”

                “Shut up, okay? We’re over. I can’t…” her voice caught and he could tell she was crying. “I can’t do this anymore.”

                “But I can’t live without you. Dani...” Bryan’s intoxicated mind groped for the right words, anything to make her stay. He needed her second chance. More than life. “Danielle, if you don’t take me back then I’ll end it all.” There was silence on the other end of the line for a moment, broken only by Danielle’s haggard breathing.

                “What?” She asked after a few moments. Bryan took a shaky breath.

                “If I can’t have you than there’s no reason for me to live. I’ll get in the car right now and drive off a bridge.” His threat was met with more silence.

                “You are so, so drunk. Sober up and get your head on straight.” Danielle said finally.

                “I swear Dani, I’ll leave right now. You’re all I have to live for. Look… I know the drinking is a problem. I see that now.” Tears started to drip down Bryan’s cheeks. “I would never want to hurt you. But if you don’t take me back, then there isn’t any reason for me to go on being hurt.” It was the right thing to do, he decided. It made sense. No Danielle, no reason for living. Even the alcohol couldn’t take away the pain.

                “Bryan, you’re scaring me. Tell me you’re not actually considering suicide.” Danielle’s voice had a touch of panic in it now.

                “I’m dead serious. Tell me that we’re over and I’ll leave. I’ll be out of your life forever.” He let the words hang in the air for a moment. “Well?” There was a sigh.

                “Bryan… I don’t want that. I love you.” Happiness flooded through Bryan. “Look, can we talk tomorrow? I’m a little… drained.”

                “Of course baby. I love you too. And I am so sorry.”

       
          Relationships. It's the word that makes everyone either cringe or grin like an idiot. Or both. Let's be clear though, relationships can be anything from friends to family members to pets. But I'm talking about "romantic relationships". Those things that tend to drive us crazy and make us do stuff we don't normally do.
          Why is that? Are we so desperate for approval that we'd sell who we are so someone will fall for us? I think everyone's been in that place before, where you put on a front and tailor your every word and action to impress the person who you have feelings for. Deep down, we all know that you shouldn't have to be fake with the person you love. Relationships are based on love, honesty and trust, so how can we expect to have a good relationship with someone if we aren't honest with them about who we are? I'm not saying that you should unload your life story and all of your weird habits on them the first time you meet them. Relationships take time, and so as you come to know the person more and more, you can come clean about the fact that you like to top Ritz crackers with peanut butter and shrimp. But there is a difference between lying to a person about who you are and simply not sharing it, and that's mainly where we fall into error. I mean, eventually that person is going to find out that you don't actually enjoy sunrise yoga and that you are definitely NOT a morning person. Wouldn't it be easier to be honest and say that you've never done sunrise yoga in your life? Then you might give it a try, but if you absolutely hate it then you aren't bound to keep going because you said you were an expert.
          We do these crazy things because we, as humans, are relational people. We have friends, we have family, we have girlfriends and boyfriends and spouses, because we don't really like to be alone. We like being around other people and being close to other people. Most people want to get married. We want to love and be loved. But there is a certain trap here, one that tests your priorities and your focus. Sometimes, we try to use relationships to fill a void in us. I talked a little before, about trying to fill that God-shaped hole in all of our hearts with this, that or the other. One of the things we use is relationships.
          Relationships can be addictive, and we tend to try to ease our loneliness/sorrow/despair/what-have-you with things that are addictive. Typically, people who are addicted to relationships act desperate, all the time, because they are desperate. No judgement or anything, but that's the way it is. I happen to know some people like this. If they aren't in a relationship they are desolate and inconsolable. They are constantly trying to find someone to date, and every time they find someone, the person that they find (and sometimes barely know) is always "the one" right from the start. I know a handful of people like this. Once in a relationship, they're clingy. Not the kind of "I really care about you, therefore I want to spend more time with you" attitude that is found in most relationships and isn't really clingy, but the "I can never leave your side, I love you, miss you, can't live without you even though we've only known each other a day" sort of thing. I would be surprised if you didn't know a person like this. They either give up on the relationship easily because they want a perfect happy ending, and people are never perfect, or they hold on far longer than they should because they don't want to be alone. Relationships take work but they just want someone to work for them, to take care of them, and when that doesn't happen they complain to no end. It is normal to have a few problems in every relationship, but giving up every time something goes wrong is not the correct way to approach it. Neither is ignoring serious problems because you're worried you won't find anyone better.
          Of course, that isn't to say that sometimes people who aren't addicted to relationships act in some of these ways. Everyone has insecurities and sometimes those come out and are highlighted in relationships. But people who are addicted to relationships act in extremes. And it always happens the same way.
          It may be cliche to say, but it's true. Jesus, being the Savior that He is, is ALL that you need. You don't NEED a person to complete you. If you have Jesus, you are already complete. It's perfectly natural to want to date or get married, but it shouldn't be your number one focus or priority. Just make sure you know where to draw the line. 

Stumbling Over Words, Stuttering When I Try to Speak

          All the time, I get on here to blog and don't actually end up posting anything. It's not that I don't write anything, I do. I have countless drafts of blog posts. But they aren't finished. I don't know why, but whenever I speak on something serious or something that is important to me, I always have this problem. I can't seem to say what I want to say without using too many words, or not enough words, or skirting around the subject and completely missing the point. It's as if my brain is so afraid of saying the wrong thing that it goes into a panic and I over think what I am writing about or can't think of anything at all.
          So, I thought that the best way to get around this was to just sit down and write a blog post all the way through. No stopping for breaks, no editing. It might be random, it might be awful, but it will be finished.
          I thought I would write about my difficulties with writing. Sometimes, paralyzing fear of saying the wrong thing keeps me from saying what I want to say. Words are so powerful, and I know that they can hurt as much as they can heal. And hurting someone with your words is much, much easier to do. Sometimes, when I write, I wonder if I will accidentally offend someone with something that I've said. Unintentionally, of course. I would never want to offend anyone. But it's easy to take things out of context. Sometimes, I get tongue-tied. My mind floods with words, explanations, commentaries and criticism and in doing so I simply can't say what I want to say because there are too many ways to say it. And I know that doesn't make sense at all, but it is what happens. And then there are the times when I just can't think of the right word. At all. And so a sentence remains unfinished because I just don't know what to put next.
          Yes, I know what you're thinking. This has got to be the most pointless blog post ever. But bear with me. I'm trying to get to the root of my writer's block, and nothing helps me better than thinking out loud.
          Or listening to music. Really any combination of the two is helpful.
          The thing is, this is not just a problem I have when writing. I often have this problem when I speak with other people. Which then prompts them to ask if I am listening, because I am so lost in thought.
          Honestly, I'm not that rude. I'm just... scattered.
          Is there any way around this other than just blurting out the first things that pop into your head? Writing the first word that enters your thoughts? I wonder if it is possible to train yourself to think in such a way that writing and carrying on a conversation becomes easier. But is that really something you would want to do? Is it such a bad thing to put a ridiculous amount of thought behind what you're going to say? If you speak all the time (or write all the time) and say meaningless things just because you felt like saying them, is anyone really going to listen to what you say? Wouldn't it be better to mull it over and to make sure you use exactly the right words? I think that words carry more weight when they are considered before they are flung out into the public eye.
          Of course, over-thinking your words leads to another danger, something I believe I have addressed before. In our obsession with saying exactly the right thing, do we err in saying nothing at all? If we don't speak because we don't believe we are saying something absolutely perfect, isn't that just as bad as saying the wrong thing? We aren't perfect. So nothing we say is going to be perfect. But where is the line between openly blurting every thought that crosses your mind and considering what you're going to say so much that you end up silent?
          It is something to think about. Something to work on.
          As for now, I have spoken enough, I think. A new post, and my writer's block is gone. Perhaps I will work on those drafts later and post them. I would hate for them to sit there forever because I didn't know how to say what I wanted to say.

Back to Blogging

     So if there were any people periodically checking up on my blog I'm sure they've all given up by now. I haven't posted anything for a long time. But I have been so busy! 

     Enough excuses though. I just want to write. But what to write about...

     I'm going to try something a little different. Normally I like to blog about semi-serious issues that are relevant to other people, but today I feel in the mood for a short story. Since I have virtually no inspiration whatsoever, it probably won't be very good. So here goes nothing...

     A Day in the Rain: 

                Rain. Everywhere, the great, fat drops fell and rolled and dropped again until they landed on the over-saturated pavement, making large puddles. Nothing was safe from its aggressive downpour. People, strangers, hurried by, anxiously tugging at their coat collars and trying to keep their umbrellas righted. As if offended by their pitiful attempts to save themselves from the inevitable, the wind blew an especially strong gust, causing all but the most determined of umbrella-wielders to lose or break their only protection from the storm.

                A pair of sharp, catlike eyes surveyed the dismal scene from an unassuming perch and gave a small chuckle. People could be so fragile sometimes. A little rain, a little wind, was nothing to be afraid of. And yet, here was this supposed “technologically advanced society” running around like chickens with their head cut off when a little moisture presented itself.

                Oh, the irony.

                Slowly, as if enjoying every sting from every raindrop, a figure unfurled itself from the narrow space between a building and a car and stepped into the grey, wet world that surrounded the tiny spot. A quick gust of wind blew the figure’s hood back, revealing a very untidy-looking young woman. She reached back and pulled her hood over her head once again before starting down the street at a leisurely pace. She had a mission to complete, but there was no hurry. The entire world around her was in a hurry, and she was the calm and collected one.

                It gave her a feeling of control. Something she was not used to feeling.

                She continued sauntering down the sidewalk, invisible to panicked passerby, practically running for the safety of their homes, or their jobs, or their cars.

                And then, in a moment of wild, giddy abandon, the girl threw her hands out and tipped her face skywards, embracing the harsh winds and rain. These were the moments she lived for. And this moment all the more precious because it was her last moment of freedom before everything she knew came tumbling down around her.

                She was prepared for that though. She didn’t know if she would ever fully be able to accept it, but she was prepared for the absolute worst.

                Her slow journey took her several blocks, past nice apartments and dilapidated houses, a school, a church, a strip mall… life in full force. But everything she passed looked deserted. Humanity had decided to hide, children called in by their mother’s and anyone older than the age of 12 hiding inside somewhere, as common sense told them to do. Maybe with a book, in front of a fire. No, no one did that anymore. Most likely they were huddled on their couches with blankets, watching reruns of TV shows that didn’t really bear any significance. It was pointless but… she envied them. She envied them their comfort, and the simple luxury of feeling safe. She stopped for a moment next to a mini mart and wondered at that last thought. Had she ever truly felt safe? She wasn’t sure. Perhaps when she was younger, before she could remember. The thought saddened her, and she resumed walking.

                Every fiber of her being screamed for her to turn around, to go back. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t the answer, this could not possibly be the solution. In a ridiculous daydream she imagined someone she considered close running to her, telling her to stop. Collecting her in their arms and comforting her. If not providing an escape, then at least telling her that everything would be okay in the end. She just didn’t know anymore. No such person came, of course. Her feet kept trudging through the puddles and the feeling of control, the feeling of superiority, the feeling of nostalgia all faded and disappeared into the grey mist. But she could not turn back now.

                Five minutes passed, ten, and all too quickly she was in front of the building. She checked the address against the paper in her pocket, twice to be sure. The moment she entered would be the end of her life as she knew it and the beginning of something she could not get away from. It terrified her. But her life at the present moment needed some improvement. And so, with tentative steps, she climbed the short set of stairs in front of the building and knocked on the door.

                Change was coming.       

     And so, out of nowhere, a story about a rainy day. (Among other things.) I have absolutely no idea where that came from. However, if anyone does read this blog still, I would love some... input. Who do you think the girl was? Where do you think she came from? Where was she going? Because.. to be completely honest... I have no idea. 

     What I do know is this: writing certainly is the cure for many, many things. 

Deadlines? Aren't Those Flexible?

     I have never been good with deadlines. In fact, I am pretty sure they now include my name as an example next to the word "procrastination". I have good intentions; it's not as if I set out to leave things to the last minute... it just always seems to work out that way. I am wonderful at starting things on time, but sticking to them? Not really. I am actually surprised that I have four posts on my blog, all within a shortish time frame. But hey, I love to write. And there's no deadline.
     Procrastination is a disease I would not wish upon anyone. It is the reason that things don't get done, or if they do get done they aren't done as well as they might have been or they aren't finished on time... it really is a hindrance to society. Now, I understand that sometimes there are legitimate reasons as to why procrastination happens. Life gets in the way. There are bigger priorities. These, I understand. But laziness and lack of self-discipline is normally the root cause of procrastination. I don't feel like working right now. There's plenty of time before this is due. I would... but I just got a new book and it's addiciting.
     I am guilty as charged. I am a procrastinator. It is not something that I am proud of.
     The problem has been identified. Procrastination is widespread and it needs to be stopped. But how? We would all love to defeat this but... there's a new epsiode of Merlin on so it'll have to wait.
     Perhaps a reward system is in order. Everytime we stick to a schedule and actually complete a task before the deadline, we treat ourselves.
     Maybe a punishment: if I do not force myself to spend 30 minutes on this presentation every night I will not allow myself to go out.
     Why is self-discipline so difficult? We can do the things that need to be done but we put it off and put it off until we are scrambling, trying to figure out how on earth to finish it before the deadline. (Or is that just me? It's entirely possible...)
     This is obviously something that needs to change. I am going to start today, now, before my procrastination can get in the way of my not procrastinating. I am going to proactive, and productive, and I am going to think of more words that start with "pro". (Once you start, you can't stop.) Maybe there's nothing to be done for it besides just gritting your teeth and working through it. Maybe the only way to defeat procrastination is beating it at it's own game. By finishing whatever it is you have to do so far in advance that you are able to actually enjoy being lazy instead of feeling guilty while work piles up.
     Here's hoping that procrastination is something that can actually be cured.