Untitled Work

This is rather random, but where else should I share my random "work"? Here's a poem a wrote on a whim last night. Don't think I have a title quite yet. Ideas are welcomed. Warning: it's weird.
Here ya go:

Oh, to achieve such satisfaction,
To hear words miniscule-
For in them lie
The secret why
So many are steadily fooled.

Faces foiled, they do not toil;
I drink in deep despair.
I ask the wise-
I seek no lies.
The truth, I beg, declare!

Freeze, you taunting mystery!
Your world may end tonight.
For all the lies
Kept in disguise
May be revealed in light.

Only the truth I lonely seek,
Scarred hands held secretly so.
My heart did break.
The choice I take -
To decipher 'tween friend or foe.

My eyes see only pits of lies.
Your offense you cease to croak.
Words won't repay
What you did say
When my heart you took and broke.

I take tonight and choose to change -
Bare wounds open far too long.
I walk away
And all I say,
"Your sins no longer wrong."

Ode To Pointless Babbling

I can't sleep. And of course, blogging seems like the only logical solution. So indulge your minds and I'll engage mine as I write.

Don't get too excited . . . yet.

Usually, by now, I'm pondering some issue, deep or insignificant, asking rhetorical questions that I always answer, and searching for the real meaning of life.

I'm sorry, but I have no life lessons or valuable truths to offer tonight. I come alone.

I'll be a bit open with all of you tonight. I think I'm a bit on the depressed side, but it's a mix between being annoyed with myself and feeling determined to rid myself of this depression. Nothing too extravagant, but a better word to describe my feelings: low.

See, I tend to have these moments where something bad happens - most of the time, it's something petty - but it pretty much fills the glass of bad instances that I've chosen to either keep my mouth shut in response to or refuse to react altogether for my sake and those sakes involved.

I think it spilled over a little tonight.

And then after there's that spill, I determine in my mind that I won't let these moments get the best of me, and I force my mind to accept what's happened and rise above the hard times. If only I were always so successful at inducing this response into my life. . .

Maybe only Charlie Brown understands. He had a few good words of wisdom, eh? Look up a quote by him sometime. He breathes the truth.

And now it's time for me to step off of my self-pity pedestal and return to earth to deal with the petty claims on my life to get annoyed, feel depressed, or pity myself. Life's too short to live on that thing anyhow.

I don't see how this post is worth showing to the world of my favorite five, but you were a great audience, nonetheless.

Bravo.

Just Passing By . . .

This trait - this one trait - I hate. I hate it when I see it in other people. I hate it when I see it in myself. I don't even like using passive verbs, if I'm not too passive to overlook them. Oh, the evils of passivity.

You know what I'm talking about right? For instance, let's take a song. Most people, I assume, like songs because of the lyrics. Because the words speak to them, relate to their situation, or make them feel good. But don't you even listen to music - and even really enjoy it - and not realize a word that was sung? Maybe it's just me. I don't really know. But time to time, I find myself listening to music passively. Sometimes, my mind is filled to the brim with crazy details of my life, or I'm so mentally tired, that my mind checks out, and music sounds great at the time . . . without that concentration factor.

I'll be listening to a song sometimes, and I'll think wow, this is a great song, and then I'll realize that I know about two phrases from the song . . . maybe. Dang, how dumb is that? And other times, I'll find myself overlooking amazing songs, all because I never really listened to the lyrics.

Which reminds me . . . it's all about listening rather than hearing. I know, maybe this point is driven too far into the ground too often, but it really gets me. I think I forget too often to listen instead of hear. Afterall, I believe listening is one of the best qualities that goes overlooked. Anyone can sit there and hear your problems - and then they can tell you all the ways that they would fix them. But what about someone who can listen? Someone who take in everything you're saying, relay the information you gave them, and react in an understanding way that isn't overpowering? I think that's a gift. Imagine what would happen to people's relationships if they chose to listen more often than hear. I think we'd see a big change. But hey, that's just my opinion.

Ya know what makes Teardrops on My Guitar so amazing for every teenage girl out there who tears up every time this song is played on the radio (and let me add, it does tend to get annoying, not to mention, it's overplayed)? That girls can relate to this. When this girl I know first heard the song, she thought nothing of it. Days later, she comes to me saying, "Wow, I had no idea about that song. The words . . . they're great."

But let's get back to the soul of the matter: passivity. This doesn't just happen in music lyrics, people. Take the movies, for instance. Have you ever watched movies with people who seem to never have a clue about what's going on? (And yes, I know, all five of you, I probably drive people crazy when they watch movies with me, too, haha). They stare at the screen, but don't make an effort to engage their minds in what is going on. For the clueless girl, she'll watch any chick flick you put in front of her, but don't you dare put something in front of her that requires thinking. Unless, of course, you enjoy playing 20 questions. As for the clueless guy . . . well, you got me there.

And here's what gets me really bad. School. Or worse, summer school. Talk about not wanting to think! Although I'm typing 90 words a minute, my mind is pretty much across the nation. And then when my assignments come up, I'm lost . . . why? Because I'm passively paying attention. I'm not activating my mind. I guess it's not a crime. But it adds to my case that passivity is a problem.

I think it's so perfect that there are active and passive verbs in English. Did you ever hate learning about them? It never bothered me. Maybe that's because I'm a grammar nerd. But I had this one teacher in high school who had a passive verb limit for a research paper. And if you went over the limit, you had major points deducted. I don't think it was a terrible rule. Annoying? Sure, but not a bad thing. Action verbs make sentences more colorful and powerful, which in turn, improve paragraphs, and in result make a good paper great.

I think passivity can be looked at even further. Ever think about it as a personality trait? You see the people who allow bad things to happen in their lives, yet they choose to not do anything about them, usually for a variety of reasons. And then you see those people who choose to take action - I usually find more respect for these people. Maybe it's because I wish I were more like that. I understand that action should be taken in the right way, at the right time, and only when necessary, but gosh, do I respect someone who won't sit on the sidelines when he knows he can making a difference versus the person who's a quitter, who doesn't believe in himself, who chooses to let his circumstances become more important that what he believes.

Back to the English lesson session for just a moment . . . think about it for a second. A passive verb indicates that the suject is receiving the action - not doing it. It's just a thought, but I think it's deeper when looked at with a more discerning eye. When I move this concept into the lives of people, I get thinking . . . don't you always like the people who seem to get the job done more than the people who have to have everything done for them. I'm pretty much reiterating what I said in the prior paragraph. But overall, I'm going to respect someone who's active versus someone who passively let's life pass him by.

Don't sit around, waiting for life to happen to you. Make your life happen.

The 2 AM Imperialism Paper

REVISED, PEOPLE!! I decided to get rid of the entire paper except the intro and conclusion after comments from people and the realization that I could barely get through the entire paper on my own. So if you took the time to read at all, here's just the snipets:

This is my crazy history paper that I wrote and finally finished late into the night the day before it was due. I'm never been much of a history buff, but I thought I would share it with all those who took the time to actually read my blog. Good luck - hope you don't get too bored - it's on imperialism! Also, it may be difficult to see, but the settings wouldn't let me put it in paragraph format. Heh.


“Old expectations encountered new realities”—this statement, taken from Americans on the Move: the West and the City, reflects the stories and live accounts of those who experienced the changing reality of imperialism. Whether Americans were on the move, imagining how the other half lived, or braving the beginning of the middle-class life, people’s expectations were met with realities they had never seen nor even imagined. James Rusling, Michael Gold, John A. Fitch, Jacob Riis, P. T. Barnum—these names offer no significance to the average ear, but their stories, their writings, and their books hold much meaning to the lives that were buried within their works and the audiences to whom they were directed. Those lives, along with many others, echo only a small portion of what imperialism entailed within the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. Readers are welcomed to relive the journey of the struggles that new immigrants, hard-working foreigners, and the average, every-day American people endured as well as the actions that they took to ensure a change that would better their lives and the lives of the future generations.



Although each article summary remains undeveloped, certain points have been emphasized to relay importance. Even within each, only small shreds of information are contained within what represents this time period—the 19th and 20th centuries, and U. S. History within itself. What one should take away after reading the highlighted points is not the individual struggles, but the issues the nation itself faced: immigration, prejudice, strikes, labor, and status. The list is ongoing, but history at this time seems to be treading a slow uphill journey toward a lifestyle of independence, self-reliance, and human ability. Though small in size, these articles should not be overlooked but rather praised for those individuals who took the time to represent those people who lived to see difficult times. No doubt, there are moments when these certain individuals, these specific writings, and these recorded events may have been forgotten, but they cease to be lost to the great nation in which they took place.

Not So Gratifying, Huh?

So after reading Mel's latest post on instant gratification as well as the - is it a fable or short story? - about Peter and the ball of yarn, I've been inspired to write a post of my own on time. Well, not necessarily time. You'll see.

If you haven't read the story, you should! Go to the Grass Roots Movement link and check it out on Mel's latest post. Honestly, I thoroughly enjoyed the story. You immediately understand the moral of the story about the second paragraph in, but regardless, I think it's a must-read. It immediately reminded me of the movie, Click. You know the moral of that story, right? Stop fastforwarding through the difficult times of life. Sooner or later, you'll wish you would have stuck through them - otherwise, you miss out on some of the most important parts of life, and before you know it, you're old and gray and cannot return to the past. Props to Sandler for incorporating his usual humor into a movie that had a good story in it.

What would happen if you did fastforward through all the sucky parts of life? No drama with friends, no more people problems, no more pain, no more anything bad. Wouldn't that be nice?

I guess it's those times that are most trying for us that teach us the most in life and help us grow. This concept reminds me of high school a little bit. At my school, some of my classmates, friends, and fellow students were given opportunities that I and others were not offered. Sometimes it was because of a last name, other times it would be because they were staff kids, and sometimes they were just the favorites. Well, ya know what? Thank God I was never a favorite. These people would always be the first picks for all the of the most desired gigs: the school play, the singing groups, the hot spots for competition. It was like a political race without actual competition: if you were better liked, then you were in. Half the time, talent had nothing to do with the matter.

Now I know you're wondering, what the heck does stupid high school politics have to do with not wanting to skip all the difficult times of life? Well, here, let me make the connection for you. Those favorites, those first picks, those staff kids - they had it easy. I'm not going to sit here and lie to you and tell you they were just special. Trust me, they weren't. And it wasn't just at my school. This type of thing happens pretty much wherever you go. The connection between the two points is this: I'm glad I wasn't a favorite, a staff kid, a top pick. At least 95% of the time, I had to work to get what I earned. I wasn't just picked. And it was those times that I made it into groups and accomplished goals, that I knew that it was the hard work that had gotten me where I was - not a last name. Those times of working for what I got while watching the same things just get handed to others helped me grow and become better at what I did. Just like the rough times of life build a person's character, so did hard work give me a better sense of accomplishment in my mind.

I can't imagine looking back on life and wondering what it would have been like to have hard times. Hard times are just a natural part of life. And it seems like the moment I get past a hard time, another just shows up in its place. It's either my friends, or my family, or I'm sick, or something terrible happens. It's everything. But those are the times that I am forced to learn, to do something that is outside of my comfort zone, to break down a wall and build a newer, firmer one in its place.

Sometimes, I would get annoyed at different preachers when they would say, "Now you should be thanking God for the hard times in your life just as much as you should be thanking Him for all of the good things He gives you." I mean, just hearing those words would make me shift in my seat. Are these guys nuts? Why on earth would I thank God for making my life miserable at times? Well, looking back, the puzzle pieces actually do fit. Seeing how one rough spot got me past certain barriers in my life and helped me grow in other areas is such an amazing thing. Maybe it's cliche to say this, but I believe it to be true. There is a reason for everything, and while going through those difficult times sucks, having the ability to look back and see how I got through it, how I perservered, and how God gave me the strength to get through everything just leaves me with a feeling of awe. Not having that opportunity would be stripping myself of life's most important lessons.

Peter learned his lesson, and Adam eventually figured out that you just couldn't click yourself through life and enjoy the nice times exclusively. Bad times have their time and place, and those bad times are what make the good times that much sweeter.

And I think the worst part about instant gratification is that the enjoyment lasts as long as it took for the good thing to happen: an instant. What's so gratifying about that? I think I sense an oxymoron.

The Music's In My Blood

Music is absolutely, undeniably influential. Did I just sound smart? It's like music to my ears . . .

Music makes the movies the movies. I mean, come on! Who would watch a movie that had no sound or background music? Talk about yawn!


iPods would be literally non-existent. Them, and every MP3 player to hit the market. A life with no portable music players? Somebody call an ambulance, cuz I think I'm going to have a heart attack!


I grew up on music. I mean, seriously. Literally, I was a music freak. I started taking piano lessons when I was 7 years old. Miss Suzanne was the name of my first of many piano teachers to come . . . and then go, of course. After Miss Suzanne, was Miss Wright, Miss Wenger (who became a great friend as I got older), Mr. VanMasdam, Mrs. Creswell, and last but certainly not least, Mr. Mayer.


But I didn't just play piano. I HAD to be a part of the band after I discovered one of my friends was in it. So I joined, and like every ingenious 6th grader, I took up the one instrument that I was fully capable of playing on the first day: percussion.


And then I realized it wasn't as easy as hitting a drum with a stick. It was crazy hard . . . but hands down, the most fun thing I have ever done in my life.


Elementary choir didn't do it for me, so I joined Junior High choir, and later on, High School choir. But who joins a choir without trying out for the ensembles? So I got past tri-outs and made it into the elite singing groups of Voices of Joy and Voices of Praise.


But if you really liked to have fun with music at school, you had to be apart of the Handbell Choir. This, with no doubt, was the BEST group to be a part of music and still have the wonderful opportunity of messing around with your friends for 45 minutes a class. Of course, I couldn't just do handbell choir, though. I wanted more. So I decided to become part of the Handbell Ensemble. We were so pumped about it, we even planned a Saturday get-together and went out to eat. Fun times!


And then there was Percussion Ensemble. Could you throw the word "fun" out there any harder? This was my ultimate favorite. After taking snare drums lessons for two years, the drum became my newest best friend. I had the record of being the only percussionist in band who played too loudly (everyone else committed the pitiful crime of not being able to be heard). It was a crime enjoyed committing daily.


Church orchestra became a bit of a drag, but being a percussionist always had its perks. Again, this time on the timpani, I was the only percussionist who played too loudly. Then again, who would not take advantage of having four kettle drums at their disposal? I would not let up such an opportunity that presented itself.


Music groups became only a part of music that I really enjoyed, though. I wanted something different, something new, something fresh to keep the beat alive in me, so I decided that I should try a new instrument my sophomore year that no one ever played: the organ. Now, I can hear you saying right now, "Don't only old grannies play the organ in church? Wait - people still play that ancient instrument?"


Yes, people, I do, indeed, play the organ. And trust me, I haven't grown my first white hair yet. Doesn't anyone remember the classics? Toccata in E Minor? It's like the most famous song ever - but no one matches the name with the song. I guarantee that if you heard the song, you would agree that you've heard it before and that it's a classic. And what about Phanton of the Opera? Don't think any grannies were sitting around, attempting that masterpiece on the organ! That is amazing music. How about "Take Me Out to the Ballgame?" Think your grandma could tough that one out? I don't think so.


Have I proven my point yet, or are you still convince that organ is for loser grandmas in church settings only?


How about those old horror movies. Yeah, you know what I'm talking about . . . half of their theme songs are played on the organ! Ever seen the musical Wicked? Yeah, that's pretty recent. Guess what - they use a freakin' organ!!! And what's the classic song that most brides walk down the aisle to? "Here Comes the Bride." Would you believe that it is played on an organ?


Okay, so I'll get off my organ defense pedestal and calm myself. But I want all five of the people (if five people even waste their time) who read this to know that organ is not an ancient instrument reserved for the boring, old in age losers (and if they play the organ, of course they can't be losers, haha).


After taking percussions lessons for a couple years, still continuing organ and piano lessons, and remaining involved with all of the many music groups, I still felt like I should take something new on in music. And that's when my mom bought me my first real guitar. I had been wanting to actually play guitar since I was a little kid. When I was about 7 or 8, I went to this garage sale and bought this ancient guitar, hoping that I could take lessons up. A couple years later, I went to one of the music teachers at my school, telling him about my interest in taking up guitar. He had me hold the guitar, but once he took a look at my fingers, he told me that they were too small for me to play the guitar. Disappointed, I walked away, figuring that was the first and last time I would ever hold a guitar. Eight years later, I'm sitting with a new guitar, and a contract to start taking my first lessons at a studio. My teacher ended up being a bit of a punk, but she showed me the basics. Sadly, she neglected to teach me actual chords and only taught me how to play a few songs. The exciting and pinnacle of my career in playing guitar is when I got to play a duet with my friend, Carey, in my Senior Recital in high school. The song didn't go over the best, but I'll certainly never forget the experience.


I wish today that I could tell you that I have kept up with all of that amazing music - the band, the choir, the ensembles. Percussion, organ, piano, guitar. All of it.


It had been decided from the very beginning. I was to be a church music major at Bob Jones University. But God had different plans in mind for me.


During my sister's sophomore year at BJ, a number of issues presented themselves that led to her transfer to Maranatha Baptist Bible College. This situation, along with praying, some pros, and a lot of confusion, I made the decision to attend Maranatha as well.


The music program at MBBC did not offer the world like it did at Bob Jones. I went in as a Speech Education major, next to the other two lonely and only speech ed majors at the college. Would you believe that major doesn't even exist now?


Right now, the most music that happens in my life is a little of the fiddling around I do on the piano. Going down memory lane, opening up the old yearbooks, and thinking back to the past is difficult for me. A large portion of who I used to be was lost. Freshman year, I did make some wonderful friends, but friends that did not share any of my interest in music. I truly feel like I lost a part of who I was and had grown up to be. It wasn't until this past summer that I felt like I had discovered a little bit of myself all over again.


I had been going through pictures I had found. Pictures from miscellaneous competitions, events, and trips - many of them dealing with music. Choir tours, handbell trips, nationals, band tours, festivals, state competitions, the whole deal. Can I not articulate how much I miss those times?


I realized that part of who I am was missing, and I'm so excited to say that I'm ready to meet up with a little of my old self again. In one of my older blog posts, I mentioned how I wanted to join the choir and maybe the orchestra as well. I would even like to commute to Madison to take up organ lessons again.


I don't know what that future holds, but I am holding on to the possibility of returning to the music I once loved and played every single day of my life. Music has always been a part of my life, and I don't think I'm ready to give it up quite yet.


To end this post with something random, yet relevent, I'll add the lyrics to a song. It's so true how you can not only be incredibly blessed and encouraged by playing music, but that you can be emotionally swept into a song just by listening to the music - the lyrics, the orchestration, the instrumentation, the instrument or voice from which the music is coming from. When I was sick about a week ago, I had a hard time talking for a few days, and I had more than enough time to be thinking. I thought it was amazing how God had brought certain lyrics from a song to my mind over and over and OVER again that entire week when I became really sad and discouraged.

So here are the lyrics that kept me going from "You're Not Alone," by Meredith Andrews (Verse 2 is my favorite):

I searched for love
When the night came and it closed in
I was alone
but you found me where I was hiding
and now I'll never ever be the same
It was the sweetest voice that called my name
saying

You're not alone
For I am here
let me wipe away your every fear
My love I've never left your side
I have seen you through the darkest night
and I'm the one who's loved you all your life
All of your life

You cry yourself to sleep
cause the hurt is real
and the pain cuts deep
All hope seems lost
With heartache your closest friend
and everyone else long gone

You've had to face the music on your own
but there is a sweeter song that calls you home
saying

You're not alone
For I am here
let me wipe away your every tear
My love I've never left your side
I have seen you through the darkest nights
And I'm the one who's love you all your life
All your life

Faithful and true... Forever
For my love will carry you....

You're not alone for I... I am here
let me wipe away your every fear... Oh yeah
My love I've never left your side
I have seen you through your darkest nights
Your darkest nights
And I'm the one who's loved you all your life
All of your life

The Power Behind High Expectations

Why do people always expect the worst?

Isn't this the reason that people are afraid to trust again after getting out of bad relationships? Because the one person he or she cared about more than anyone else let them down (screw me for the pronoun/antecedent agreement), broke their trust, and proved themselves incapable of dependability.

That's one scenario. How about disappointment? Now how does that happen? When people's expectations are lowered. That implies that the expectations were high . . . er, higher until someone did something in order to disappoint them, therefore, lowering their expectations.

I could keep going here. If you really dig deep, you can find that a number of factors cause people to continually lower their expectations, sometimes until they amount into nothing at all. Life shouldn't be that way, if my opinion means anything. We should be able to have high expectations and not plan on lowering them in advance when we're let down. We should have the ability to trust and depend that people will not let us down all of the time.

You have to keep in mind that people are human, and that they do make mistakes. But I don't want to expect the worst from people just so I won't be disppointed in the end when someone breaks my heart, or loses my trust, or doesn't come through for me. I want to expect a lot of people, I want to impart my trust in others, I want to believe in the best that people have to offer. Is this possible nowadays with how untrustworthy people have become? Why do we always have to use the words, "now don't tell anyone." I thought that was a given, especially when people are close. But no. People have proven themselves liars in many cases.

I'm just as guilty. No doubt, I've let down even the closest of my friends and family. I find it interesting how it's the people that mean the most to us who usually let us down, and we let down in return. It's the close people that disappoint us and hurt us the most - not our enemies. Our friends, our family. And that pain hurts more than anything.

Disappointment, pain, heartache. It's all inevitable. No exit signs there. But I'm keeping my expectations high, regardless of the downhill trend to lose trust. I think there's a little bit of good in everyone, and as much as it hurts to be be let down, I rather be disappointed than to never have trusted and hoped at all.

Besides, I want people to expect more of me. Isn't that how I become a better person? It gives me a goal to push toward, not slide under.

Expect more of people, and don't get nervous when others expect more of you. Expectations don't change who people are but who they can become.

We Fight

"TIME OUT!"

These are the words bellowed at children that just gave a teacher a hug.

Since when is hugging the new crime?

My job . . . well, if you want to call it a job, has jumped from normal to the ridiculous. Well, if you would call what we do normal.

Recently, the office people have been in a puff. A permanent puff. A puff of crazy rules that are so incredulous, that you would stop reading this if it were a fiction piece. But it's not.

Since when do kids get in trouble for trying to ask for permission to get out of their seats by getting out of their seats to ask for permission?

And how would you feel if your child was signed up for boarding school rather than day camp?

Does blowing whistles really solve every problem? I think not.

If you haven't guessed yet, yes, I am venting. Get over it. Seriously. This isn't a blow on my job or it's incapable staff. It's not even a gesture to say that I'm going to do something about it's incompetencey. I'm stating the facts, people, and facts are what you'll get.

Sorry for the complaint, but how terrible is it that I cannot even defend my own job? What is it, like 90% of Americans hate their jobs?

The ironic part is that I don't hate my job. What I do hate are the things I watch and am unable to put a stop to. Unnecessary punishments, over-the-top rules, normal gestures turning into crime scenes, and a whistle that will never run out of juice.

I know that every workplace has its problems, and not for the first time, the problems at mine are getting worse. The difference this time is that they are getting so blown out of proportion, and half of the staff lies relentless.

I'm working on taking action. I don't know how, but I don't like sitting on the sidelines, and I'm definitely not a bench-warmer.

I fight, along with my co-workers. And what we fight is one ridiculous fight.

Thinks The Wandering Mind At 3 AM . . .

She walks into the room, but chooses not to sit by him. She wants him to wonder. After all, she always sits by him, or makes an attempt to do so. But not today. She walks past him and sits on the other couch. She pulls out her laptop and starts typing. She's typing the very words she's thinking, and she wants him to wonder what she's up to. What is she thinking? She's typing those empty, meaningless words, hoping to strike a tone of wonder and bewilderment in his mind. Only her peripheral vision is on her side. She stares at the screen, but her mind is wishing for his eyes to be looking up, staring at hers. She takes the risk. She glances up only to catch his glimpse for a second. That was awkward. Back to what she was doing. What exactly was she doing, anyway? Trying to get his attention, right? In a divert manner, of course. All she really wanted was for him to walk over and sit by her, and ask her what was going on. And then, of course, she'd have to reply with that completely false line: "I'm fine." She wanted him to press and to break the seal. It wouldn't take much, but she wasn't going to be a shell easily broken. There was so much behind that comment. So much "something" behind that "nothing." He could not be too ignorant to realize this, could he? This was her way of telling him how she felt. Today, there was no other way. It was not a mind game or a trick. She wanted to see if he cared. Well, just a little, that is. She wasn't ready for a night in shining armor to rescue her from a castle. All she wanted to know, all she really wanted was the assurance that he cared.

That, and his willingness to show it.

Only The Latest

Here's my most recent update on the current events on my life.

Aren't you excited?

I think that makes one of you.

In amazing number format, I present my life in recent time:

1. I almost quite my job last week, only the third day in. Another reason to convince me this life only gets more unfair. Okay, I'm over it now.

2. Jen's having surgery tomorrow morning. She has to have her gall bladder removed. She should be an outpatient, but there's always a chance that she may have to stay overnight. We're crossing our fingers that she's in the high percentage of outpatients.

3. I'm thinking about writing a book. Never seriously considered it before, but the idea has been rattling through my mind for a little while. More details on that later if it becomes a factual occurrence.

4. I'm going out for either choir, orchestra, or both next semester. Yes, I have already decided! I miss the fine arts from high school, and I'm ready to get back into the groove of things.

5. I should be getting a car by the end of the month. Finally, something to actually call my own. I'm really looking forward to it!

6. I have my 3rd phone this year! And no, it is no improvement from my chocolate. Story behind the matter: I lost my chocolate the last week of school, went without a phone for over 2 weeks, had my service transferred into my mom's old phone (her contract was up for a new phone), dealt with the crappy phone for a couple weeks, and now I have Jen's old phone (she was up for a new contract as well). My new contract doesn't come in until August, so I'm dealing with a pink razor that struggles to keep it's "okay" button in tact. But hey, I have a phone right? No complaining necessary.

7. Lori and I decided to go through the top 25 horror movies this summer. Should be exciting. We've watched Carrie and Halloween. Only 23 to go and counting. Can't wait.

8. A Six Flags trip is in the making, and I'm hoping and planning that it works out accordingly. *Six Flags Theme Song playing, crazy old man dancing*. Gotta love those commercials.

9. I'm definitely considering returning to playing organ next year. Since Natha doesn't offer an organ program, teacher, or even lessons now, I'm looking into plans to commute to UW Madison once a week for lessons. I'm crossing my fingers that it all works out.

10. I start my U.S. History 2 class this week on Tuesday at Harper. I'm completely stoked about it. Well, as stoked as you can get about a college class in the summer :-)

11. My music is growing everyday, it seems like. Recent artists to enter my music library: Secondhand Serenade (thanks for the intro, Tim), Reba, Brad Paisley, McFly (introduction from Just My Luck, and no, I don't care if you think I'm dumb for liking them), Alvin & the Chipmunks (just for kicks, of course - and Charlotte's undying desire to continually play "Bad Day" in the room over and over again!), and a little more of Katharine McPhee and Vertical Horizon. I was on a music downloading craze yesterday!

12. 24 has become the "thing" in my house for the past couple weeks. It's one show that actually gets my entire family excited. I now officially am a fan of Tony and a hater of Alberta Green. I'm rooting for the presidential candidate, ex-all-state insurance man (haha), I want to duct-tape his wife's mouth shut, and I think the entire Baur family is smart but each have at least one idiotic move on their parts, which leaves me screaming at the TV, wondering why they won't listen! I feel for Rick, was stunned that Ted rather die then give out information, and I'm incredibly thankful for Nina. I had Jamey guessed at from the start, convincing my dad that I had already seen all the episodes when in fact, I had never seen them before! The one part that makes me madder than anything is Kevin Carroll. I definitely did not see that coming.

13. I've only seen two movies in the theater this summer thus far, but they were both good. What Happens In Vegas and Prince Caspian. While movie critics give only 1 1/2 stars to Vegas (I think I'm right on that), I was stunned by Diaz and Kutcher's performances. Definitely entertaining movie. Prince Caspian turned out better than I expected, and I didn't think it was nearly as cheesy as the first Narnia movie. There were a few things I would have changed, but since I haven't read the books, I have little arguments for it. Overall, both were good movies that I would recomment to most people.

And that pretty much sums up the little and big parts of my life for now.

Stay tuned.

Concerning The Nonessentials . . .

In order to understand the "nonessentials," what exactly are the "essentials"?

Essentials: "One Lord, one faith, one baptism." That is the foundation of the essentials.

Get ready for an entry neither of us saw coming.

Yeah, I'm going to hit a debatable topic here today. I usually like to try to stay away from those, because frankly, I hate arguing with people. Maybe you could say that it's "just not my thing." I hate confrontation, and in all honesty, I dislike diagreeing. Yeah, it's a fact of life that I have to accept, but when possible, I choose to avoid it at all costs. But not today.

There are essential beliefs that I will not shy away from. There are things I know and believe to be true and will not admit differently to. My mind will not be swayed that there is another God besides the God of the Bible. I will not change my mind about the one true faith, that is, faith in Christ (faith not as in "believing," but faith that Christ is real, that He died on the cross, rose from the dead, and that He is returning one day). Those are the facts, and I'm proud of them.

Let me get to the crux of the message. What about the nonessentials? What about the gray areas that keep the different denominations fighting and splitting over?

The nonessentials make life not stricly black and white. The nonessentials allow us to draw lines that may not all be in the same places. I've struggled trying to grasp this concept of non-essentials for the longest time.

Let's define some nonessentials here: going to the movies, music standards, dress standards. Biblical times called for different "nonessentials," such as eating meat.

The beginning verses of Romans 14 in the ESV offers some explanation for my point:

"One person believes he may eat anything, while the weak person eats only vegetables. Let not the one who eats despise the one who abstains, and let not the one who abstains pass judgment on the one who eats, for God has welcomed him. Who are you to pass judgment on the servant of another? It is before his own master that he stands or falls."

Here are some points that my singles pastor drew from these verses:

1. Receive your Christian brother who is weak in the faith
A. Weak in the faith = Has a conscience that condemns him for things which God does not condemn him for.
B. Doubtful diputations = diputes of opinion
1. Eating meat vs. eating vegetables
2. Honoring certain days above others vs. honoring every day the same
2. The strong are not to despise the weak being immature and over-scrupulous
3. The weak are not to judge the strong for their liberty.

I could include more of the outline, but I'll spare all of you. My pastor brought up a very good point, though: how many times have you heard Romans 14 preached before? The group's response: rarely, if ever. That's interesting. Why? I think because it's incredibly debatable. People have a difference of opinions, and when their opinions are tried and preached against or differently, people take it personally and get offended. And no, I'm not rebuking the offended. I stand right there with them. When I hear something that offends me, I may not voice my opinion, but I do stay with how I feel about a matter in most cases.

Here's another great point of his: Let's get a little personal with some standards. (A very not me thing to do). How many times will someone visit Wrigley field, but banish himself from a movie theater? See a comparison? You can go to a baseball game, and there will be constant profanity, drinking, and music that may not meet up to your standards. As for the movie theater . . . from what I'v heard in about a million different messages, it's a testimony issue. I understand where people are coming from and I respect them for feeling the way they do. I understand that people don't know what I'm watching when I walk into the theater. I'm also willing to take that risk. I'm not downplaying those who feel like it is not a good place for them to attend, but I'm not going to raise or lower my standard because of others' feelings. Also, just to put out there, this is not something that I like to slap in other people's faces. This is my conviction, and mine alone. I believe everyone is entitled to their opinions on this matter.

Regardless, I think he made an excellent point. Rationalization. This is usually the argument people use when people, such as myself, "rationalize" different things in my mind in order to convince myself that they're okay. But isn't this a two-way street, people? Can you not rationalize something in your mind that it's - dare me say it - wrong?!

Here's a ridiculous, but a get-the-picture-across illustration, from the lips of Pastor Wilkinson, himself: A youth pastor preached that lipstick is wrong! So this girl would go home, and she would want to put lipstick on, and as she would move the stick to her mouth, a voice would pop into our mind: Lipstick is WRONG! Don't put it on! And in her mind, she believed that the voice of God Himself was warning her of making the grave mistake of applying lipstick! Thank God that He spoke to her before she almost committed such a sin! (No disrespect).

That may sound kinda crazy, but let's think about it. That girl wasn't hearing the voice of God in her mind. It was the voice of a man. There was not a Scriptural basis for not putting on lipstick. Sure, if you looked hard enough, you may be able to locate a verse in the Bible and twist its interpretation in order to fit with your finding, but the main emphasis is that something as petty as applying lipstick can become a petty, gray area that people don't like dealing with.

And if you look at it, you'll realize that you'll always have people who set their lines above yours and far below yours.

The girl in the lipstick illustration is a prime example of the weak in the Romans 14 passage. Yet the strong are warned to not undermine their thoughts. Yes, we (I'm not calling myself "strong" here either, persay) are not to belittle their thoughts and force them to do things that go against their conscience, even if they're as ridiculous as putting on lipstick! Now that is something very difficult for me to take in. I think I would slap someone if she tried telling me that putting on lipstick is wrong!

I think it's important to sometimes talk about things, even if it makes people a little bit uncomforable in their seats. I don't want to use Romans 14 as a crutch to do whatever I please that anyone may consider "not black and white," but I think that it is very applicable. It always gives me more confidence in my convictions on these areas that people feel very - here's a nice word - "differently" about.

I think I sound like I'm preaching. Want to debate about women preachers? That is black and white. No thank you. Haha.