Mum's Advice

I have the best mom in the entire world. Hands down.

She's always there to listen to my A+ triumph, my F woe, my latest funny forwarded text, my worries.

Recently she enlightened me on a saying she remembered from her childhood. It (roughly) went something like:

"Everyone has a cage of birds.
Open the cage, and let them fly.
If they return to yours,
they were always yours."

I think it's supposed to rhyme, but it's aside from the point. "Cast all your anxiety on Him, for He cares for you." 1 Peter 5:7

Right now, there are a lot of birdies all up in my cage. Worries about college, my future, friends that are distant, etc.

I have slowly been weaning open the cage to release the birdies to fly, and if it's what the Lord has for me, I know He'll bring it back into my path. Mum always knows best =)

Me: an English Lesson

So I'm in an English class where we get to annihilate literature. literally pull it piece by piece, stanza by stanza, word by word. And I love it In doing this, there are certain patterns we see; such as metaphor, simile.

One of my favorites, is paradox. Simply, it is a truth that at first seems like a contradiction.

i.e. "Stone walls do not a prison make, nor iron bars a cage." In reality, these ingredients DO make the latter, but the author is talking about something deeper, how the prison of the mind is more suppressing than stone and iron at times.

With this, I have found a great number of paradoxes in my life. The colloquial, or slang, would probably describe me as a hot mess! :)

For realsies, I'll be-bop between reading Austen&Dr Seuss, my mind goes a million miles a minute, I sometimes unconsciously make faces while conversing with myself mentally, you get the picture.

I used to be, well almost bashful of my, well, um, er... eccentric nature. Most people seemed to have it all together, and so calm but I felt like, well like a spastic little being.

But, the beauty is, I'm learning to love me as Christ made me. Psalm 119 tells me that I am wonderfully and fearfully made, goofy faces and all! I feel like a dork talking about how God made me special, but it became so easy to second guess myself.

In the Prince of Egypt, my by-far favorite part is the song "Look through Heaven's Eyes", it's where Jethroh takes insecure Moses and talks about viewing himself through heaven's eyes.

The paradox is not in me. It is me.

That the little crazy girl has a beautiful purpose and making.

What are some paradoxes in your life? Are you a paradox?

Chivalry

So I kinda hate Twilight. Like a lot. No offense to those who read it, it's just not my thing.

I prefer old-fashioned classics. Like Pride&Prejudice. My heart swoons at the sight of Darcy. It loathed him for about the first hour and a half of the movie, but then fell in love. And the book, phew! Oh baby! Jane Austen had it going on.

I think I'm infatuated with the culture of Jane Austen - well to an extent, everything was so classy then. Ladies curtsied, men bowed, men opened the door for women. People danced with dignity. And oh! the language in which they spoke, absolutely intoxicating with beauty.

I love comparing Darcy to Christ, because i have to look for biblical allusion in everything I do. Thanks AP English! ;) But for reals, although I never wanted to punch Jesus in the face, I see similarities. Darcy quietly, but steadily pursued Elizabeth, persistent, but open to rejection. He didn't know if she would fall into his arms or spit in his face.

Christ does the same thing for each and every one of us. Ephesians 2:8-9 speaks of this grace that abounds anything humans know. Christ quietly pursues every human being (through many different ways, tailored to each individual.) But every being has a climatic, and rather defining point in their life to decide to reject or accept what is being offered. Christ is a gentleman, always at the ready, but never uncouth.

And I for one, can be quite like Elizabeth Bennet where in different instances I push Jesus away, but always come back running to his arms realizing my error. And He never brings it up, He's content with my being with Him.

On 9/11

I remember my mom coming into my room and taking me into her room.

My grammie (who lived in Maryland) had just called, I remember getting under the covers with my mom and watching the live footage of terrorism. The day was a blur for me. I was in the 3rd grade, I remember having a moment of silence, and watching it in class, while experiencing my first moment of silence.

It was the first time I saw terrorism, I also remember it as one of the first times I saw herorism. Firefighters, Police, Civilians. Americans saving Americans.

After time has slowly passed, I am hearing of a movement to burn Korans on 9/11 as "revenge." This is a cowardly, barbaric notion that is no better than what the terrorists did to us.

The best remedy is to never forget what happened. To continue to live out herorism such as civilians did on 9/11. To remain united. To keep fighting. This is what makes America strong.

"An eye for an eye makes the whole world bling." -Ghandi

Pastels

This year, I am in AP Studio Art. I'm not all that artsy. Seriously, if what I could produce half of what I see, it'd be fabulous. But I still love art, it relaxes me, and is one of my favorite outlets.

However there is one medium I hate. Pastels.

Seriously, my freshman year I used them and they were AWFUL. They smudge easily, which is nice to blend but is horrible for your clothes, and for the grimy fingerprints I got everywhere. For my perfectionist personality, it was quite frustrating.

Fast forward 3 years. I walk into the first day of AP Studio Art, the smell of fresh paint still lingered in the air, my familiar classroom and teacher greeted me.

Basic classroom instructions were given, and we were assigned our first art project.

Sketching apples.

With pastels.

Peachy. (No pun intended.) ;)

Pastels literally burst with color. Their chalky residue gets over everything.

BUT, the more I worked with pastels, the easier it became. The stark color contrasts became easier to blend and make a beautiful piece. The colors smoothly and tranquilly mesh and build upon themselves. But I have to be extremely careful I don't pick up residue and put it anywhere I don't want it.

Then I really began to see myself as the pastels. I have very different colors and contrasts in my life that are opposite, but when I give it time, God builds the different things in my life like colors of pastels, and then slowly begins to blend them into a beautiful crescendo.

When I mess up and over-blend or get my fingerprints as I try to rip the piece from his hands, He never rips me up.

He still gets the piece to look the way He wants it, but it takes more time.

"I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will counsel you with my eye upon you." -Psalm 32:8

(Here's my pastel on 3 scallops shells up close =))

Sentimental

This is a "random" post I suppose, but I want to write about it.

Confession:I'm a sentimental sap.

No, for realsies. You probably don't believe me. But I ADORE memoirs, other people's, my own. It's fascinating to me.

I have a vintage suitcase that's stuffed to the brim with all the journals I've kept in my life. My ones from elementary school are pretty humorous I must admit. Maybe I'll post an entry one day. =)

It's so cool to see how my life has progressed. I have birthday cards from my 8th birthday (I only keep the really good ones), I have the letter my pen-pal in second grade wrote me. I have pressed flowers and old photographs.

When I go to a place, I usually am overwhelmed by the memories of it. I guess that's what I get for living in one city for my whole life. When I go to a certain starbucks, I remember a conversation over two grande black coffees about american history and future plans for personal lives. I remember a rainy morning when I parked horribly. I remember junior high days and one of my first frappucinos, I thought I was so cool. ;)

So on and so forth. I am swept by a turbulent wave of memories no matter where I go.

Sometimes they're very sweet, sometimes not so.

My favorite part of being a sentementalist sap is truly my journals .

I was reading over them and it's crazy to see how I've changed so much without changing at all. Call me crazy, I know but my perspective of lie and everything in it has been so broadened. But I still see so much the same, I see bible verses I wrote out in shaky twelve year old handwriting that are still super close to my heart. I see friends names written in my journal, who I don't talk to anymore, but are still vividly alive in my head.

I'm not trying to sound all deep or whatever, but it's something I dig. =)