Arrogance

I have heard people say they sometimes think God is arrogant, because he wants our obedience and worship and time and trust and love—basically, he wants our whole lives. Sure, if a human demanded these things of us, I may consider them arrogant, but they, unlike God, didn’t send their only son to die the most excruciatingly painful (and that is a complete understatement) death for everyone in the world—for all those people who will disappoint him over and over again. (And may I say, I’m not a parent, but I watched my aunt and uncle suffer the loss of my cousin, and I watched my best friend’s parents suffer the loss of their brave son, and it is not a beautiful sight. It is heart wrenching and horrible. My heart still breaks for them over and over again. Watching them sob and grieve, I was overwhelmed by the parents’ grief. I cannot imagine losing a child.) So, I cannot even begin to imagine what it was like to send an only son to earth, knowing how much he would suffer. I cannot imagine that sacrifice. So, believe me, “arrogant” is NOT a word that describes God.

God DOES deserve our time and obedience and worship and trust and love—every part of our lives; he deserves it all. So, why it is so hard for me to just sit down and spend some time with him?! He saved me...I'm not afraid of death because of him...I have hope only because of him! Why, on earth, is it difficult to give everything to him?! It just kills me that I can quote countless lines from television shows and movies, and memorize all the lyrics—word for word—of a vast number of songs without even trying, and I can’t even memorize scripture unless I really make an effort—which I rarely do. Why is it so difficult? It shouldn’t be, but I guess I am just not as disciplined as I should be. I am just dumbfounded at how unworthy I am of sharing a relationship with God. And yet, he DESIRES a relationship with me. What is that? I am speechless.

God so desperately desires a healthy, lively relationship with me, and so many times I abuse that, and use it for my own benefit. Then, inevitably, I come crawling back, and he takes me back. EVERY TIME. I am probably repeating myself, but it is such a ridiculous idea…I highly doubt I could be that forgiving—in fact, I know I couldn’t.

I cannot fathom God. Ever. I wish I could describe him, but then again….I’m glad I can’t. If I could, he wouldn’t be God now would he? I am not even sure how to conclude ramblings, so I guess I’ll just say that I am completely and utterly grateful for a God that loves me even though I am nowhere close to being worthy of his love. Maybe that’s a little cheesy, but it’s true, and it’s on my mind. ☺

Complete Brokenness (Like Never Before)

Folks, it’s going to be a long one.
I'm going to go ahead and be honest, which is difficult for me, because this is extremely personal and recent and still pretty raw; this summer has not been the best summer ever. For a while, I was doing pretty well, pretty great, actually. I had been really discouraged about not finding a job, but then Pet Supplies “Plus” hired me. That was awesome. Then a nightmare from my past showed up to say hello. As I was getting ready for my second day of work, I woke up on my bathroom floor—terrified and confused. I wasn’t used to the feeling of all the sudden waking up, not knowing where you are, anymore. I had forgotten that feeling. For a week or so after my seizure, back on my medication, and prohibited from driving, I was depressed. I thought I had that stupid problem beat. Apparently not. However, I realized the enemy was just using this to attack my faith. I decided not to let that happen, and I clung to the strength God was giving me.

I was doing well again. I was happy and off to spend a week with my dad’s side of the family at Magers’ Fest. On the way there, our van broke down, and we were stranded for four hours. My mom was a wreck. About two hours into our struggle of trying to find a rental car, my best friend called me and gave me some terrible news. Her brother was killed by an IED in Afghanistan. No. That was not possible. God would not make me go through this again. He would not make the Hunsbergers endure this pain, the indescribable pain of loss.

But it happened. It was real. Kelsey was hurting in a way I experienced just over a year ago. My heart broke; my soul ached. I spent the next few weeks beside her, helping her in any way possible. I knew how she felt, and I was hurting for her and her family with my whole being. I was overwhelmed—hurting for her, hurting for her family, and hurting for myself. While dealing with my special, special friend, so many emotions from my past were re-surfacing. Emotions that I gave so much effort to bury in order not to deal with them, were smacking me in the face. They were ripping my heart out and tearing it to pieces. For so long, I had been avoiding the pain, and now it was surrounding me. It was difficult to think, to breathe, to love, to smile, to pray, to heal. The next few weeks would be the darkest of dark times for me.

One would think that I would be praying for strength from God at this point. While I would whisper little “prayers” asking for comfort and strength, I wasn’t really giving God the time of day….I wasn’t really, sincerely, talking to Him, asking for His help. I was emotionally, physically, and spiritually exhausted. I had been holding on to that ledge so tightly, but my muscles lost every ounce of strength, and I let go. I began to fall. I fell at a rapid pace. But I was so drained and so weary, I couldn’t even try to grab a hold of anything along the way down to wherever I was falling. The whole time I was free falling, I knew this was what Satan intended. He wanted me to be too weak to cry out for help. He wanted me to be at my breaking point and not be strong enough to hold fast. The stupid thing was, I didn’t care. I stopped caring when I grew so weary. I was weak. I became spiritually unhealthy. I couldn’t worship in my two favorite ways—writing and singing. I couldn’t do it if I tried. I couldn’t envision something beautiful that used to bring such comfort to me. Darkness surrounded me. I felt oppressed, attacked, and just dark. But I didn’t search for the Light.

However, I put on a show, because people still complimented me on my faith. They commended me for how well I was holding up with everything that was happening. I lied to their faces and thanked them. I am ashamed of this.

So, this past week, Axis was fasting and praying for the healing of some friends. I said I would fast on Thursday. I knew that I wasn’t strong at this point, but I hadn’t realized just how far I had fallen from the Truth. Thursday came around, and I fasted and prayed throughout the day, but by noon, I hadn’t heard from God. My prayers, I felt, were one-sided. Consequently, I decided to sit in my room and just pray and try to listen. I begged God for anything. A single word. I heard nothing. I was extremely discouraged. While sitting on my bed for about a half hour, feeling so defeated and at the end of my rope, I suddenly heard the song:

“Please be still. Please be still. Please be still, and know that I am God.”

It was that simple. God just wanted me to sit and be still and know. Just know that He is. God. So, I sat there, and I knew. I didn’t think about anything….just the fact that He was, is, and will be…God. I walked away feeling calm, but still distant from my Lord. I hadn’t walked away from my faith; I just fell, and didn’t make an effort to stop myself from falling any farther (further?). While I was still sitting on my bed, before I heard the song, I examined my life and realized that I was stumbling down a dark path. I realized what was happening. I realized how weary and weak I had become. I was no warrior for Christ that was for sure. My hope was quickly dwindling. My fists that were clenched so firmly around God’s hand just let go. I could have called for help. I could have asked for strength. I could have asked for comfort. But I didn’t. I was defeated. I knew what the enemy was doing, and I didn’t fight; I didn’t defend. I failed.

The rest of that day, like I said, I was calm. But even though I was calm, I was in what may have been the darkest place I had ever experienced. Losing my dad was dark, but I held fast to my hope at that point. In this dark cave, I had little hope left. I had no Light. I was alone. I felt exactly like I did when I came out of my seizures, terrified, confused, and COMPLETELY alone. Let me just say, feeling absolutely one hundred percent alone, may be the worst feeling in the world. I was sick, congested, alone, scared, holding onto what little faith was left, and falling. I went to sleep around one in the morning, crying. I woke up around three in the morning, still congested, alone, scared, hope dwindling, and falling. Oh, and I was incredibly ashamed. I was ashamed, because I had been taught better than this, I knew better than this. I couldn’t believe how far I had let myself fall. I knew enough to have turned to the Lord before I let myself go this far. I felt like a real fool. So ashamed. It was simple; I was broken—completely and utterly broken. I honestly had never felt this literally broken before now.

I cried. I couldn’t fall back asleep. As I lay there in my own puddle of darkness, anguish, and despair, I decided to watch Arrested Development. What else would I do? I couldn’t sleep. But as I pulled out my computer, I remembered reading something one of my good friends wrote when she was posting about her experiences that week. She said she was giving up television for the week, because it had become such a distraction—an “escape.” I really admire and look up to this special friend, so I decided to try her tactics. I pulled out my Bible, not having a clue what to read. When I set it in front of me, I suddenly knew I should turn to Psalms chapter thirty. All of Psalm thirty spoke to me, but when I read verses nine and ten, I knew I wasn’t able to sleep for a reason. I knew I heard “Psalm thirty” for a reason.

“What gain is there in my destruction, in my going down into the pit? Will the dust praise you? Will it proclaim your faithfulness? Hear, O Lord, and be merciful to me; O Lord, be my help.”

I was falling into the pit, but for what? What could that possibly do to better my faith or display God’s love to the world—which was once my desire? It was my desire when just months ago, I was able to stand up in front of the church and speak of an encounter with God and the joy that filled me and the awesome hope that I held onto with everything inside of me. Somewhere along the way, I lost that. And losing it wasn’t doing anything for anyone. So, I knew that these verses were speaking to my situation, but in a way they just made me feel guiltier, more shameful.
But God wasn’t done. I decided to turn back a few pages—my eyes fell upon Psalms chapter twenty-five. I understood when I read verses one through three:

“To you, O Lord, I lift up my soul; in you I trust, O my God. Do not let me be put to shame, nor let my enemies triumph over me. No one whose hope is in you will ever be put to shame, but they will be put to shame who are treacherous without excuse.”

Is it not obvious that turning to these verse wasn’t just coincidence? But even then, I was upset about my loss of strength—my weak bones, my weary soul, my broken heart—my complete brokenness. I read on. Psalm twenty-eight, verses six through eight:

“Praise be to the Lord, for he has heard my cry for mercy. The Lord is my STRENGTH and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and I am helped. My heart leaps for joy and I will give thanks to him in song. The Lord is the STRENGTH of his people, a fortress of salvation for his anointed one.”

Seriously?

Then came my favorite, Psalm twenty-nine. Please, read this chapter. It is beautiful and powerful. I love EVERY word, but I won’t quote all of it; however, I am going to quote some of my favorite parts, which is an ample amount.

Verse one: “Ascribe to the Lord, O mighty ones, ascribe to the Lord glory and STRENGTH”

Verses three and four: “The voice of the Lord is over the waters, the God of glory thunders, the Lord thunders over the mighty waters. The voice of the Lord is powerful; the voice of the Lord is majestic.” What powerful imagery! Beautiful.

Verses seven through eleven: “ The voice of the Lord strikes with flashes of lightning. The voice of the Lord shakes the desert; the Lord shakes the Desert of Kadesh. The voice of the Lord twists the oaks and strips the forests bare. And in his temple all cry, ‘Glory!’ The Lord sits enthroned as King forever. The Lord gives STRENGTH to his people; the Lord blesses his people with peace.”

You cannot tell me that is not powerful and beautiful. If my God’s VOICE can shake the desert and strip the forests bare, and thunder over mighty waters, and strike with flashes of lightning, how could I ever fall far enough that he won’t catch me? Keep in mind, this is JUST HIS VOICE. Think how much more he could do with more than just his voice. I may have lost all of my strength, but it would just be plain idiotic of me to ever think my Lord doesn’t have enough strength for the both of us.

Then, I read Psalm thirty-one, which tied it all together for me.
Verses one through five:
“In you, O Lord, I have taken refuge; let me NEVER BE PUT TO SHAME; deliver me in your righteousness. Turn your ear to me, come quickly to my rescue; be my rock of refuge, a STRONG fortress to save me. Since you are my rock and my fortress, for the sake of your name lead and guide me. FREE ME from the trap that is set for me, for you are my refuge. Into your hands I commit my spirit; redeem me, O Lord, the God of truth.”

Now, I’ll be honest with you, the bulk of these verses didn’t really hit me until I got home from camping today and re-read them, because Thursday night, I was so far down—I was too weary to fully grasp everything being thrown at me. The rest of the weekend was still a struggle for me. And it has taken me a while to understand exactly why it was such a struggle for me to simply ask for more strength. But I realized I was afraid that if God did strengthen my faith, the enemy would throw something else tragic at me, just to test me again. And I knew there was no way on earth I could deal with anything else at this point. Obviously, I can deal with it, because I have just learned that God will never run out of strength for me, but it is still a fear that if I continue to press on and fight the good fight, terrible things will keep happening. I know that if they do, they will inevitably take a toll on my faith, and me but regardless, I am so much stronger, so much more complete than if I was fighting alone—no matter how weary I am, even with God on my side.

While I am being completely honest with the world and all it’s facebook friends, I need to admit that another reason these times have been so dark for me, is because I am dealing with an insane amount of anger. I am angry about my dad’s death, my seizures, Travis’ death, my mom’s never-ending health issues, the fact that I am heading off to college without my dad, my brother going through high school without a dad, my other brother going through crappy college issues without his best friend—his father, my mom being alone for the rest of her life, not feeling fed spiritually….the list goes on. I am missing my dad more than I have in a long time right now, and I don’t talk about it, and I can’t deal with it, because it is WAY too painful. I avoid it for as long as I can, but I know I can’t avoid it forever. But I can’t even describe how painful it is to sort through my feelings and how to deal with the fact that he is just gone. Gone. I can’t deal with it, and it makes me angry that I even have to deal with it. It makes me angry that anyone has to at all. I am full of anger. I am angry at God for these things, but now that I have had all of these “epiphanies” with Psalms and what not, I am more willingly dealing with these issues with God himself, rather than pushing it all down, day after day—only making it worse when I finally HAVE to deal with the pain. So, though it will be a process—probably a long one—I am on my way to healing. I would even say it feels like starting high school over, because my faith was so strong at the beginning of the summer, and I fell so far—but like I said, I will heal—I am healing. Plus, when I think about it, high school went pretty fast.

To everyone I have been lying to and hurting and disappointing, I am so sorry. It hurts me to know that I may have disappointed anyone. To everyone that taught me better, I am sorry. I wish I didn’t have to admit to you that I have been struggling so much, and I have been in one of the darkest places I have ever experienced. I’m sorry if you thought I was stronger than this, and I am sorry that I disappointed you, but I am doing my best to build my faith back up to where it was a few months ago.

Friends, this is where I have been this summer—in a dark and lonely place. I don’t want to go back, but I know this life isn’t easy, and I know I will stumble again. I may even fall farther than I have this summer, but the beauty of it is, I can always find the Truth somewhere. Eventually, it will hit me in the face, probably when I least expect it.

My anger is still present, but God and I are dealing with it, no matter how long it takes, because it may take awhile. Hope is in sight now, and I am running towards it, full force. With open arms, I embrace it. Joy is creeping into my being. My eyes are open, and I am beginning to see my beautiful vision again. My heart is healing, and I am able to love people again—my only desire is to love like Jesus, again. My strength is re-building, and my soul is excited and yearning. I am climbing out of this pit of darkness, and Light fills me. The journey may be strenuous, but in the end, it is so worth it. It will be worth it.

(I know this is long already, but I need to thank everyone who prays for me and loves me and supports me and cares about me and helps me through this crazy life. I am forever grateful to you. Thank you for teaching me in so many different ways about so many different things and about our awesome, powerful God. Also, I really hope Axis went well on Sunday. I’m sorry I wasn’t there; I just needed to process, and I wasn’t at the right spot. I didn’t want to screw it up, but I am so excited to see how God moves…..Also, I may have technically cited the verses wrong, but I’m not really sure how to “technically” cite verses! I should probably learn that.) Sorry so long! Love.

Proving What's True

I go through phases with my music. I always have my favorites such as Anberlin, Staind, Lifehouse, Third Day, and Relient K...and a few others, but I go through phases with different bands, where I'll listen to only that band for weeks straight. And I listen to them until I discover a new band that is totally awesome. One of my most memorable phases was the Acceptance phase. Too bad they broke up.

Anyway, I recently had an internship with a good friend of mine. He graciously allowed me to invade his photography studio just so I could escape a few hours of the mundane routine of high school. It was really great, because I didn't have any classes I needed to take at this point. So I was...and am very grateful to him. Anyway, during one of my last days there, we were listening to some awesome music...like usual, and I noticed that he had Sleeping At Last, and I was like, "Oh my gosh, you know about Sleeping At Last??!" So, we talked about how awesome they are, and then we resolved to listen to "Ghosts" by this phenomenal band.

As we listened, my heart melted. These guys know how to mix the sweetest melodies with the perfect metaphors and other language devices. My point is I was reminded of a past music phase I experienced that involved Sleeping At Last...that was definitely a good phase. And then I wondered why I ever stopped listening to them?! So, as I was re-introduced to the depth and beauty of the music and lyrics this band produces, I knew I would be continuing a past phase. So, as my Emery phase ceased, I downloaded a large quantity of Sleeping At Last music.

Consequently, my mind has been enraptured by only the lyrics and melodies of one of the greatest bands of all time. I am listening to them even as I am writing this.

One more detail to help tell my tale: last night at Axis, my same friend that gave me the internship, was talking about the wind. And I didn't mention it to anyone, but I absolutely love the wind. I love the wind, because I always seem to find healing in it. I always have experiences and encounters in the wind. And I know it's not coincidence, and I know my mind isn't making things up. I know what I feel. And when I feel the wind, I feel God. So, as I walked home from Axis last night, I lifted my hands to the sky, and blasted "Heaven Breaks" by Sleeping At Last, and I let the wind enfold me. I embraced it. My arms were covered in goose bumps. And my body shivered. But I knew what I was feeling. I was feeling Truth and Security and Love.

The lyrics to the song "Heaven Breaks" are some of my favorite. And I realized why last night. At one point the lead vocalist says, "Only Love proves to be the Truth." Could it be any simpler? People ask me why I believe in God, and I decided I’ll tell them because He is the only One that has proven to be true. Truths may exist in other religions, but none of their gods have ever actually proven themselves to be true to me. My God has…it's so simple. I believe what is true. I realize it's not that simple for others. It hasn't always been so simple for me. But hearing those words and feeling the breeze rush around me...I knew the truth. And I still know it.

Though later on last night, I wept in anguish and desperation for my dad to be back on Earth, in our home, making my family complete. I begged God—for what seemed the ten billionth time—to let my dad hug me one more time. But even as I felt like the loneliest person on the earth, even as those tears streamed down my face, and even as my heart ached for one more warm embrace, one more breakfast, one more day of homemade pizza and Saturday snacks, one more talk on the phone, one more smile, one more: “I’m so proud of you, Kel,”—even as my heart broke every time I called out for my dad, and he didn’t answer me, even as I laid there in the dark, wishing for my heart to stop beating so I could join my daddy in utter bliss, and even as I concluded this pain would never leave me, I was crying out to my Lord. I wasn’t just crying for my pain—I was speaking with God in a more emotional manner. I was communicating with Him in the only way I could—by grieving and crying.

As I was yelling and crying and praying for God to sustain me and comfort me—to carry my pain away, to take me home, to bring my dad back, to do whatever He needed to do to make me stop aching—I suddenly closed my eyes. Then I opened them. No tears spilled forward. My heart was calm. My soul was content. I wasn’t overjoyed or happy, and I didn’t have a warm, fuzzy feeling. But my soul was content, and my heart wasn’t aching. And that’s when I knew I was experiencing God’s comfort more intimately than I ever had. Because it was so sudden—as soon as I let the anger flow out of me, and I asked Jesus to hold me, everything stilled, and I was filled with comfort. It rushed through my bones, and I couldn’t move. I know He has brought me comfort way more times than I can count, but I have rarely felt it as boldly as this time. I was still hurting, and I still missed my dad, but God was answering my calls for comfort. I couldn’t believe it. What kind of love is that? I’m this selfish little girl, thinking I deserve to be comforted—thinking I deserve to have this pain taken away from me, when in reality, I don’t deserve anything. I don’t deserve God to come to me when I call Him, but yet, He does. He never fails, either. He always comes when I call Him, I just don’t always feel it as personally as I did last night. What the heck kind of love is that? How can I ever comprehend that? I can’t. Ever.

So, that line came back to me, “Only Love proves to be true.” Love proved it again. God proved it again. God’s love proved it. He is Love and He is true. Love is true. It has been proven to me over and over again. And I can hardly contain it. It has made me an unusually emotional person. When I feel the slightest bit of love from anyone, a friend, a grandparent, a sibling, a parent, a stranger, I just want to cry. Because what else can I do? I can’t thank anyone enough for their love. So I’ll just cry about it. Sounds good. It’s too great of a thing for me to express my gratitude for it in any other way.

I know this is already super long, but I want to talk about one more thing. In, “Heaven Breaks,” there is also a line that says, “When Heaven meets the earth, we will have no use for numbers to measure who we are and what we’re worth. When Heaven meets the earth, we will have no need for mirrors to tell us who to be and where we fit into this awkward point of view.” And I absolutely love this line, because I hate numbers. I hate math. I hate everything about it—exponential powers, logarithms, frickin algebraic equations, balancing both stupid effing sides—I’ve always been bad at it, and I’ve always been self-conscious of that. And although, the song is not talking about numbers in math, it’s talking about “numbers” with which we “measure ourselves and what we’re worth” to society and what not, still, to imagine a time when we will have no use for numbers, just makes me so overjoyed and excited…I can actually hardly describe it. And also to imagine a time when we won’t need mirrors to see if we are fitting in today, and what we need to change about ourselves, physically, emotionally, spiritually….is so comforting and reassuring. Anyway, that doesn’t really fit in with my whole love spiel, but I wanted to mention that.

I also want to mention that I could write pages and pages about “Hold Still” and “Ghosts” by Sleeping At Last. I could probably just write a book about every single one of their songs, but those two and “Heaven Breaks” are my favorites.

So, those are my most recent thoughts. I hope some of this makes sense to somebody. I hope somebody can sort of understand—I hope I’m not crazy.

The Problem with Change

I think--in fact, I know--that sometimes change sucks. What sucks about it is that usually when you are undergoing a change of some sort--a change of environment, teacher, preacher, friends--usually it is an awesome and positive change at one end of the spectrum, but for the people at the other end....that particular change sucks. Unfortunately, we all have to deal with change. It comes at you fast, and you have to be ready for it, otherwise it sucks even worse. I know...that was deep (just kidding). But seriously, sometimes there is just nothing you can do to stop it, and it sucks for you, but it's awesome for other people involved. It is beneficial to them. But it's a huge bummer for you. You can be happy for them, and you want to be happy for them, because when it is you on the winning end of the "change" spectrum, your desire is that others would be happy for you, too. So we plaster those fake, congratulatory smiles on our faces, give hugs, shake hands, small-talk for awhile, then go on our way--weeping like a child when you drive away alone, or gritting your teeth and blinking back tears at the thought of starting anew in that particular, changed area, or shaking your head at everything you know will go wrong at the onset of this specific change.

But then, when you are the one causing the change, it may be a hard decision, but it's good for you. And you are excited about it, and you have peoples' support--whether they are as happy about the decision as you are or not. And you try to sympathize with them for awhile, because you know it kind of hurts them, but really, you are just so excited, and it is obvious. That is when they put on those smiles and you all pretend that it will be okay. Everything will be fine for everyone. Sometimes it is, sometimes it isn't. You never can tell, because people want you to be happy. They don't want you to feel guilty for upsetting them and causing them to have a rough time, so they keep it a secret--hidden away, like a time capsule buried in the yard. You keep it buried for so long , that you forget where it is. But you know it's there, buried somewhere, rotting away. Just like that secret. Just rotting away in your mind. Eating at you....blowing all of your issues way out of proportion. It never should have been such a big deal in the first place.

It shouldn't have been a big deal, because everyone has to go through change. EVERYONE DEALS WITH IT. So, you would think it would get easier, right? But everyone also knows that it never, ever, gets easier. Change will always be hard. Granted, changing favorite authors or food or tv shows, is quite a bit easier than changing locations, or break-ups, or losing an activity or animal or a person that you love, but then I'm not really talking about the easy change. The change that matters to you is always difficult. And most of the times, it just slaps you in the face, and you are too stunned and shocked to actually say what you want or need to say. Later, you'll look back at your reaction and you'll wish you had really said what was on your heart. But you didn't get to, and you probably never will, because the opportunity just doesn't present itself the way it did at that first moment--the moment you realized change of some sort was upon you. And you cannot get that moment back. No way. Doesn't work that way.

I've went through a lot of change in my life...especially within the last five or six years. People have come in and out of my life, and it has never been fun, letting go of people. And sure, there has been good that has come out of different situations, but there's also been a lot of hurt and pain and sadness. And I guess in life on this earth, we have to deal with those issues. But sometimes you just feel so alone, and try as you may, you cannot get past those feelings, and you cannot defeat those issues. So you just sit down and stare for awhile. You just hang onto that hope that better days are coming. You hold onto the fact that you will survive, and no matter how bruised, broken, and bleeding you are--no matter how scarred you are--you will come out on the top. As long as you have hope in the right Guy... but it's still incredibly hard.

This is why change sucks. Change can be awesome, but today, I am dwelling upon the negative side of it. Call me a pessimist, but I'm going to write about my authentic, candid feelings. And today I am feeling like change has its "ups" but it most definitely has its "downs."

Really, I wish I could just go back two or three years. That would be great. Then, I wish time would stand still. Or maybe we could just go back to my childhood. Or skip ahead into my future. Really, I just wish Jesus would come. Today, my dear friends, I am sad. Sad about change.

My Heavy Heart

A nice chat with a good friend of mine prompted me to write this as well as how I have felt recently. Lately I've dealt with sort of a hurting heart--not for myself, but for others who are hurting. All I hear from the news anymore is about deaths from the war, bombs blowing innocent people up, brutal stabbings and murders, young children being abducted and molested, sex trafficking, drug trafficking, parents beating their kids, drowing their kids, murdering their kids. I hear about third world countries and their lack of water, education, and health. I hear about the AIDS fiasco, and the staggering number of homeless and unemployed people everywhere. I hear about cruel acts of racism. And it just hurts me. I just can't get away from the devastation and despair. The desperation and brokenness of this world. Then there is the fact that everywhere you look there is sex and drugs and alcohol. Everywhere you look society is telling you to be the opposite of what you already are. You can access the world wide web at any time and pull up hundreds of thousands of promiscuous videos and who knows what else. People are stealing, threatening, destroying, killing--for themselves, for others, or maybe just because they can, for the adrenaline rush, for the feeling of control, for revenge, for whatever--anywhere you go...there is evil--the world is taking a turn for the worst, and I don't see a solution to that, other than Christ coming back....and who knows when that will be--no one. And it's not necessarily the fact that all I hear about is evil and horrendous, but it's the fact that I can't save everyone. I just want to help people. And my heart aches and breaks because there are people hurting, and they aren't getting any help. Nobody is offering them hope. They are at the end of their rope, and they are so close to letting go, and so many times, they do. I'm not sure what the suicide rate is in the US, but I'm sure it's not pretty.

This reminds me of a book I read one time. The title was something about summer, or one of the summer months. But this girl ran away and ended up at these three ladies' house. Their names were August, June, and July (or maybe one of them was May). But anyway, one of the ladies had so much difficulty dealing with all the tragedy in the world that she made a "wailing wall." I think there was like a stone wall, and everyday when she would hear about something terrible that happened, she would write it down on a piece of paper, then she would stick the paper in cracks in the stone wall. And she would go out to the wall and cry and mourn for people she didn't even know--people that lived halfway across the world. This is how she dealt with her despair. But what gets me is the fact that she became so emotional over the tragedy of people she didn't even know. And I feel like I can relate to this. I couldn't before, but recently when I hear a child being raped and murdered, or a fatal car accident, or a teenager committing suicide because she was too scarred and hopeless from an ugly past, or divorces tearing families apart, I have felt so sad for these people....people I don't even know. But I hurt for them and with them, and I wish I could save them. And I wish I could be with them.

I'm not really sure what lesson can be learned, but this is just what's on my heart, and I needed to share. I need to share it, because it's making me so sad. Sometimes it's so hard for me to just smile, and again, I don't even know these people. My heart just aches for them. And I don't want to say I wish it didn't, but I do wish that I could channel this "pain" into something helpful, instead of just feeling useless. Man, I just don't know. I'm not saying there isn't any good in the world. I know there is a lot of good in the world. There is beauty, and love, and hope, and a wonderful promise. I guess if we heard about all of that in the news everyday, the world would be a little happier, a little brighter. Really, all I can say is come, Jesus, come.

But that's not to say I'm just going to sit around until Jesus returns. I'm going to do my part, I will. I mean I strive to now, but I can't help but think what glorious days await me and my fellow "seekers of the Lord." And I'm not, by any means, saying this makes me a good person. I am actually a terribly selfish person. I quite frequently do whatever is the most beneficial for me. And I hate it, but that's just another example of how the world is going down the drain, and why it makes me so sad. So that's what's crackin with me lately.

A Retrospective Day

Well, this may be slightly depressing or sad, but I'm not trying to be a "Debbie-downer." This is just how I have been feeling this past week. It's been a rough one; hopefully, this next week will be a little better.

If I could go back to the days there were five members in my family, I would get up early on Saturday mornings to learn how to make my dad's delicious breakfasts.
I'd pay close attention to how he made his pizza.
I would ask him if he would be proud of me if I went to Moody.
I would go on walks with him and Sammy in the evenings.
I would call him more often while he was on his trips.
I would go with him on more of his trips.
I would play more games with him.
I would tell him more about my life.
I would do more things that he would appreciate and less things that would disappoint him.
I would always assume he was right, instead of yelling at him and thinking he was stupid.
I would watch more movies with him, go on more daddy/daughter dates, get more vanilla malts from Cooks with him, and then make him walk or run the malt off.
I would make sure he was eating healthy and exercising enough.
I would give him ten second hugs instead of one second hugs.
I would send him more emails, give him more calls, give him a surprise visit at his Mishawaka office.
I would ask him about work.
I would pray for him every day.
I would play more catch with him.
I would cook more with him.
I would make him promise me he would get off that plane and be home by nine-thirty, like he said.
I would watch more sports with him.
When he hugged me early in the mornings before he left on business trips, I would get up and talk to him before he left.
I would beg for us to move to Connecticut, so he didn't have to travel so much, and he wouldn't be so stressed.
I would dance with him.
And I would hug him, and never let go.
That's what I would do if I could go back. I don't want "one more day" because that would only leaving me wanting more. But if I could do it over....I would do everything I could to keep from losing him. I cannot wait to see him again. And I will see him again.

"Death is swallowed up in victory....." 1 Cor. 15:54

I Just Want to Say Thank You....

I just want to take a moment to talk about the people that I love. God has blessed me in countless ways, but my favorite thing that God has blessed me with, is all the people in my life. I would love to sit here and write a page about every person, individually, I care about and how they affect me and what not, but that honestly would take hours. Maybe I'll work on that over the next few months.

Anyway, for real, I have the best friends and family I could ask for. When my dad died, within a half hour, my house was filled with people. People that love me and my family. People that cared enough to jump out of bed, or stop watching their favorite TV show, or put off their homework, etc. People that have lives of their own, but put their "to-do list" aside to come and care for my family and I. I will never know everyone who has prayed for me specifically and for my family. I will never know all the people that sent us cards, and kept us in their thoughts. I will probably never even know all the people that came to my house to show us they care. I will definitely never know all of the people that paid their respects by coming to the viewings and funeral. I cannot begin to say how this makes me feel.

But it isn't just all about my dad's death either. I have this group of really close friends, and we are so comfortable with each other. They are the ones that taught me about confidence and taking chances. They are the ones that I see every day. They are the ones that don't get tired of hanging out with me, because we hang out constantly. A big part of my heart belongs to them. And I couldn't thank God enough for blessing me with such a good, positive, solid group of friends. Sure, we fight and there is tension every now and then, but none of that ever gets in the way of our unbreakable bond. We are more than friends. Nothing could happen that would ever tear us apart permanently. We love each other because we have poured out our hearts and our dreams. We have been vulnerable with each other, and let our true, authentic feelings show. I can always depend on them. I love them more than I can say. And I love them all differently because they contribute to my life in different ways. But I still love them all equally and unconditionally.

And then I have this group of friends who are several years older than me. And if they weren't in my life, I'm not sure where I would be right now. They are so much of my inspiration because they have seen just a little bit more than me, and they have experienced just a little bit more, and they can say, "I have been there..." and I can trust that. They teach me; they feed my spiritual needs; they believe in me; they encourage me; they listen to me; and they love me. These people are awesome, because I can be completely open with them, and they just listen. And they always seem to know when I want or at least need advice. And I can't say that they have ever steered me in the wrong direction. I may have not always listened to them, but generally if that happened, I would later wish that I had listened. But what I really appreciate about these people is the fact that they take time out of their busy lives to spend time with me. And listen to me, and help me when I'm struggling. These people love me. And I love them. I have so much fun with them, and they are always encouraging. In fact, I'm not really scared about my future because most of these people have been so encouraging about my decisions. Anyway, a big part of my heart also belongs to them.

Then (and all of this is in no significant order) I have this wonderful family. Flesh and blood. It's a bond that is something special. First of all, my brothers are amazing, and I have grown so close to them. I depend on them for a lot, especially my little brother, and I sometimes feel bad because he does so much for my mom and I. So, I try to do little things for him every day. Anyway, my brothers are great. And I love them more than I can say. My extended family is so special to me. I have awesome cousins. I just spent the week with one of my fave cousins. :) And I could probably write pages about her and what she has done for me, and how she has contributed to my life. I really look up to her, and she is one of the greatest people I know. She has these two siblings (who are also my cousins, duh...) and they are also some great people. Our two families have always been very close. Half of my childhood memories are with them. Man, I have so much fun with them. I could laugh and talk with them all for hours. They are so special to me. But all of my extended family is great. They all care about me, and keep up with me and my life. And I just cannot express how blessed I am to have such a close family. The cool thing is, with my dad's side of the family--my grandma, aunts, uncles, cousin--even if we don't see each other or even talk for years, when we get together, there is this bond...and it's just there....and it connects us. And it never fails. I always enjoy time with them. My dad's family is so special. Magersfest is seriously the highlight of my year. But I don't want to leave out my mom's family! I love them, too!! I love my cousins and aunts and uncles and grandpas and grandmas on that side, too. I have tons of fun with them when we get together. Seriously, I am just like overcome with emotion right now, talking about all these people that care about me.

Man, my friends and family are so special to me. :) I have said that a lot. There just isn't any other way to say it. Now, I haven't even come close to mentioning all of the people in my life that I love. There are so many people. I just want to tell you all. If you know me or know my family and friends, I want you to know that I care about you, and love you with my whole heart. I love watching you grow and mature. I love being a part of your journeys, and I love that you are a part of mine. I would do anything for you. I love you all. And I thank God for you all every day. I cannot express my gratitude for you. But you are important to me, and I care about you. And I want to say thank you for all that you do. Thanks for taking time to be in my life. I hope I can make you proud in my future endeavors and adventures. All my love....