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Sunday, February 28, 2010

just call me george bailey

"You want the moon? Just say the word I'll throw a lasso around it and pull it down!"
-George Bailey, It's a Wonderful Life

This weekend I received an e-mail from my Directors professor, Robert Hoskins. It read:

"IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE is now available on Blackboard. Enjoy!"

Isn't that nice? In the midst of midterms, and stressing about graduation, my homework is to simply watch (and be reminded that...) It's a Wonderful Life.

Lately I have been really discouraged. Really discouraged. The past few weeks I feel as though I've taken hit after hit. There is no reason for it, but it's the truth. I just start thinking about the future, and the pile of what I have in order seems microscopic in comparison to the things that I do not have in order.

But, between not being able to keep any money in the bank, skipping out on schoolwork, letting my friends down, not connecting with my sister, and carrying a general air of frazzeledness, it's still such a wonderful life.

I know this because it seems that whenever I am strongly discouraged, encouragement comes from the wildest places. My dear friend in Boston wrote me a letter just to tell me how much she loves me. Another girlfriend, who I haven't heard from since Januarary, texted me along those same lines.

This weekend I was privileged enough to spend time retreating with two organizations at JMU that are very close to my heart: Into Hymn and Sigma Alpha Omega.

It was such a (you guessed it) wonderful time. I kept silent, sometimes, reflecting. All I could think about was how blessed I was to have so many sisters to spend time and giggle with. If you had told me the wonderful friends I would make as a senior in college when I was a senior in high school, I think I would have been a lot less worried about the future.

Thankfully, I was also able to spend a few moments reenergizing at home. My mom took one look at me and said, "You didn't get much sleep last night did you?"

"No," I replied. How are moms always able to pick up on things like that? It has never ceased to amaze me. Regardless, it was true, I haven't gotten much sleep since spring semester started. I guess it was written on the dark "shopping bags" under my eyes. She made me take a fifteen minute nap before I could hit the road again.

That was what this weekend was about. Reconnecting, reengergizing, refocusing and resting before I begin to tackle "project graduation" with more vigor than ever.

So, the key the next few weeks? Remembering that God has carried me this far. That there is no room for fear in God's plan. Most importantly, that with and through Him, in all things, it really is a wonderful life.
SHARE:

just call me george bailey

"You want the moon? Just say the word I'll throw a lasso around it and pull it down!"
-George Bailey, It's a Wonderful Life

This weekend I received an e-mail from my Directors professor, Robert Hoskins. It read:

"IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE is now available on Blackboard. Enjoy!"

Isn't that nice? In the midst of midterms, and stressing about graduation, my homework is to simply watch (and be reminded that...) It's a Wonderful Life.

Lately I have been really discouraged. Really discouraged. The past few weeks I feel as though I've taken hit after hit. There is no reason for it, but it's the truth. I just start thinking about the future, and the pile of what I have in order seems microscopic in comparison to the things that I do not have in order.

But, between not being able to keep any money in the bank, skipping out on schoolwork, letting my friends down, not connecting with my sister, and carrying a general air of frazzeledness, it's still such a wonderful life.

I know this because it seems that whenever I am strongly discouraged, encouragement comes from the wildest places. My dear friend in Boston wrote me a letter just to tell me how much she loves me. Another girlfriend, who I haven't heard from since Januarary, texted me along those same lines.

This weekend I was privileged enough to spend time retreating with two organizations at JMU that are very close to my heart: Into Hymn and Sigma Alpha Omega.

It was such a (you guessed it) wonderful time. I kept silent, sometimes, reflecting. All I could think about was how blessed I was to have so many sisters to spend time and giggle with. If you had told me the wonderful friends I would make as a senior in college when I was a senior in high school, I think I would have been a lot less worried about the future.

Thankfully, I was also able to spend a few moments reenergizing at home. My mom took one look at me and said, "You didn't get much sleep last night did you?"

"No," I replied. How are moms always able to pick up on things like that? It has never ceased to amaze me. Regardless, it was true, I haven't gotten much sleep since spring semester started. I guess it was written on the dark "shopping bags" under my eyes. She made me take a fifteen minute nap before I could hit the road again.

That was what this weekend was about. Reconnecting, reengergizing, refocusing and resting before I begin to tackle "project graduation" with more vigor than ever.

So, the key the next few weeks? Remembering that God has carried me this far. That there is no room for fear in God's plan. Most importantly, that with and through Him, in all things, it really is a wonderful life.
SHARE:

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

click, click, click

"You have no power here! Be gone, before someone drops a house on you, too!"
-Glinda, the Wizard of Oz.

Would it be possible? Could I dare to believe that my life could ever look like this?

With beauty, danger (in the exciting sense of the word), and wonder?

Just dancing in my ruby red slippers.
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click, click, click

"You have no power here! Be gone, before someone drops a house on you, too!"
-Glinda, the Wizard of Oz.

Would it be possible? Could I dare to believe that my life could ever look like this?

With beauty, danger (in the exciting sense of the word), and wonder?

Just dancing in my ruby red slippers.
SHARE:

thanks, I needed that

7:15 a.m., Starbucks.

"Hello, miss," said the cheerful barista. "What can I get for you today?"

"I'd like a venti iced coffee with a shot of caramel, please," I said. My eyes had crusted over. I picked out what the "sandman" had left me and let out a petite yawn.

"Okay, and your superhero name?"

"My what?" Was I dreaming?

"Oh, we're taking all the orders with superhero names today. Who would you like to be?"

And I tell you what, nothing felt better than hearing the cheerful barista, once again, shout aloud in Starbucks:

"I have a venti, caramel, iced coffee for WONDER WOMAN!"

I stepped up to the counter proudly to accept my kryptonite. I mean coffee. For a moment, I was Wonder Woman.

The cheerful barista later informed me that she was a villain. She was playing the role as the Joker. Seemed appropriate. She also wrote "Wonder Women" on my cup. So, not only was I an iconic, patriotic superhero with a golden lasso and invisible plane...I was multiple iconic, patriotic superheros with golden lassos and invisible planes.

You can say what you want to about me, but you can't say that I ever do things half way.

Thanks, Starbucks. You gave me a sense of empowerment, I needed that.

5:45 a.m., Catholic Student Ministries building

There I was with a few of my lovely sorority sisters serving breakfast to our homeless friends in the Harrisonburg area. Our dubious task of the morning involved peeling the shells off of two-dozen hard-boiled eggs.

I was without a touch of make up or even an inkling of a shower. One of the gentlemen looked at me and said, "You are just as beautiful as ever."

I was astonished. There I was, serving these men and women, in their physical needs - serving food. And this man looked out from underneath his own, assumingly, very large problems and reached out to me emotionally.
My friends and I probably live like queens comparitively. Though I struggle financially, I am quite rich. How dare I have the gaul to complain about my lack of funds while I have a warm meal nearly every day and a pillow to rest my worried, weary head on each night. Even still, he reached out to me. Saw the hurt in me.

I was ashamed. Especially when one of our girls complained about the snow. Our friend Charles, who had just taken a swig of Texas Pete (yes, he straight up drank hot sauce) said, "At least you have a place to go..."

My friend asked him, "What do you do when it snows?"

"I walk the streets," he said.

Thanks, Charles. You gave me perspective. I desperately needed that.
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thanks, I needed that

7:15 a.m., Starbucks.

"Hello, miss," said the cheerful barista. "What can I get for you today?"

"I'd like a venti iced coffee with a shot of caramel, please," I said. My eyes had crusted over. I picked out what the "sandman" had left me and let out a petite yawn.

"Okay, and your superhero name?"

"My what?" Was I dreaming?

"Oh, we're taking all the orders with superhero names today. Who would you like to be?"

And I tell you what, nothing felt better than hearing the cheerful barista, once again, shout aloud in Starbucks:

"I have a venti, caramel, iced coffee for WONDER WOMAN!"

I stepped up to the counter proudly to accept my kryptonite. I mean coffee. For a moment, I was Wonder Woman.

The cheerful barista later informed me that she was a villain. She was playing the role as the Joker. Seemed appropriate. She also wrote "Wonder Women" on my cup. So, not only was I an iconic, patriotic superhero with a golden lasso and invisible plane...I was multiple iconic, patriotic superheros with golden lassos and invisible planes.

You can say what you want to about me, but you can't say that I ever do things half way.

Thanks, Starbucks. You gave me a sense of empowerment, I needed that.

5:45 a.m., Catholic Student Ministries building

There I was with a few of my lovely sorority sisters serving breakfast to our homeless friends in the Harrisonburg area. Our dubious task of the morning involved peeling the shells off of two-dozen hard-boiled eggs.

I was without a touch of make up or even an inkling of a shower. One of the gentlemen looked at me and said, "You are just as beautiful as ever."

I was astonished. There I was, serving these men and women, in their physical needs - serving food. And this man looked out from underneath his own, assumingly, very large problems and reached out to me emotionally.
My friends and I probably live like queens comparitively. Though I struggle financially, I am quite rich. How dare I have the gaul to complain about my lack of funds while I have a warm meal nearly every day and a pillow to rest my worried, weary head on each night. Even still, he reached out to me. Saw the hurt in me.

I was ashamed. Especially when one of our girls complained about the snow. Our friend Charles, who had just taken a swig of Texas Pete (yes, he straight up drank hot sauce) said, "At least you have a place to go..."

My friend asked him, "What do you do when it snows?"

"I walk the streets," he said.

Thanks, Charles. You gave me perspective. I desperately needed that.
SHARE:

Sunday, February 21, 2010

oh, oscar

Oscar Hammerstein.

Lyric writer for songs from popular musicals such as the Sound of Music, the King and I, OKLAHOMA!, and South Pacific.

Wrote this note to Mary Martin, the original "Nellie Forebush" in the OBC of South Pacific. It was given to her one evening five minutes before the curtain came up for the opening number:

"A bell's not a bell 'til you ring it.
A song's not a song 'til you sing it.
Love in your heart wasn't put there to stay.
Love isn't love 'til you give it away!”
-Oscar Hammerstein

He was on his death bed.
She performed with more passion than ever. She gave her love away that evening.

The pastor in our church today quoted Hammerstein in his service today. He asked us to name popular Rogers and Hammerstein musicals. I was sitting in the front row with a fellow Broadway-nerd. We shouted them loud and proud.

I want to make my song a song by singing. I want to give away the love in my heart.
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oh, oscar

Oscar Hammerstein.

Lyric writer for songs from popular musicals such as the Sound of Music, the King and I, OKLAHOMA!, and South Pacific.

Wrote this note to Mary Martin, the original "Nellie Forebush" in the OBC of South Pacific. It was given to her one evening five minutes before the curtain came up for the opening number:

"A bell's not a bell 'til you ring it.
A song's not a song 'til you sing it.
Love in your heart wasn't put there to stay.
Love isn't love 'til you give it away!”
-Oscar Hammerstein

He was on his death bed.
She performed with more passion than ever. She gave her love away that evening.

The pastor in our church today quoted Hammerstein in his service today. He asked us to name popular Rogers and Hammerstein musicals. I was sitting in the front row with a fellow Broadway-nerd. We shouted them loud and proud.

I want to make my song a song by singing. I want to give away the love in my heart.
SHARE:

Thursday, February 18, 2010

here goes everything

"Sometimes I believe that I can do anything. Yet, other times I think I've got nothing good to bring. But, you look at my heart and you tell me that I've got all you seek. And it's easy to believe."
-Francesca Battestelli, Free to be Me

Hi, it's me again.

I'm just dropping a quick line to say I think I can do this. I just needed proof that in this moment, at this time, I am satisfied and at peace. I'm not sure how long it will last, but for this moment I have let go. For this moment I have grasped hold of it. I realize the contradiction in "letting go" and "grasping hold of it." Just work with me here, I'm at peace. OKAY?!

It's inevitable that I will be, once again, blind-sighted by stress or pressures. They have a way of sneaking up.

But for now, I'm just sipping my tea, and smiling about the future. Dancing in my ruby red slippers. Wonderful.
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here goes everything

"Sometimes I believe that I can do anything. Yet, other times I think I've got nothing good to bring. But, you look at my heart and you tell me that I've got all you seek. And it's easy to believe."
-Francesca Battestelli, Free to be Me

Hi, it's me again.

I'm just dropping a quick line to say I think I can do this. I just needed proof that in this moment, at this time, I am satisfied and at peace. I'm not sure how long it will last, but for this moment I have let go. For this moment I have grasped hold of it. I realize the contradiction in "letting go" and "grasping hold of it." Just work with me here, I'm at peace. OKAY?!

It's inevitable that I will be, once again, blind-sighted by stress or pressures. They have a way of sneaking up.

But for now, I'm just sipping my tea, and smiling about the future. Dancing in my ruby red slippers. Wonderful.
SHARE:

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

in an effort to take my own advice...

"Praise in disappointment honors God in a deep and more meaningful way than the praise without sacrifice...your praise tonight is center stage, smack dab in the middle of the spotlight, and you better believe it gets the applause of all of heaven. You go girl."
-Aunt Sissy via text

"Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love him."
-James 1:12 via Bible


I never thought that I'd be romantically involved with failure. It's true. We've become so close lately, I really had no choice but to succumb to f's seductive pursuits. Trivial pursuits. It's gotten so serious that I've grown to expect him. I say things like, "probably not."

The thing is, failure, my boyfriend, is supposed to be making me better through perseverance, right? That's what the Bible says. Persevering under trial equals "mature and complete, not lacking anything" (James 1:2 - review post below). But, failure is making me bitter, not better.

Why is it so much easier to encourage and uplift other people. How is it that I've been blessed with encouragement for others, yet lack it for myself?

It's because I'm clinging on to the frumpy pink plans of my own that the mice made for me...or that I made for myself... (again, regard post below) when God wants this for me:




















And, dare I say it, this:
Why, oh why am I settling for plans of my own? They are not the best. They are selfish. They are ambitious. They are full of motivation derived purely from that green gunk we nicknamed jealousy.

The truth is, they are ripping my heart apart. Sometimes I cling so persistently onto them my knuckles are white, my skin like the saggy stretched out portion of jeans where your knees go.

I need to let go. Let God take over. Let Him show me where I am to succeed for His Kingdom, and to not let my world and very being fall apart when I have a hard time building up my own.

So, I'm going to bring on the praise during the disappointment. You can bet. And I will repeat this until I turn as blue in the face as her gown: Cinderella's going to get another pretty dress!
SHARE:

in an effort to take my own advice...

"Praise in disappointment honors God in a deep and more meaningful way than the praise without sacrifice...your praise tonight is center stage, smack dab in the middle of the spotlight, and you better believe it gets the applause of all of heaven. You go girl."
-Aunt Sissy via text

"Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love him."
-James 1:12 via Bible


I never thought that I'd be romantically involved with failure. It's true. We've become so close lately, I really had no choice but to succumb to f's seductive pursuits. Trivial pursuits. It's gotten so serious that I've grown to expect him. I say things like, "probably not."

The thing is, failure, my boyfriend, is supposed to be making me better through perseverance, right? That's what the Bible says. Persevering under trial equals "mature and complete, not lacking anything" (James 1:2 - review post below). But, failure is making me bitter, not better.

Why is it so much easier to encourage and uplift other people. How is it that I've been blessed with encouragement for others, yet lack it for myself?

It's because I'm clinging on to the frumpy pink plans of my own that the mice made for me...or that I made for myself... (again, regard post below) when God wants this for me:




















And, dare I say it, this:
Why, oh why am I settling for plans of my own? They are not the best. They are selfish. They are ambitious. They are full of motivation derived purely from that green gunk we nicknamed jealousy.

The truth is, they are ripping my heart apart. Sometimes I cling so persistently onto them my knuckles are white, my skin like the saggy stretched out portion of jeans where your knees go.

I need to let go. Let God take over. Let Him show me where I am to succeed for His Kingdom, and to not let my world and very being fall apart when I have a hard time building up my own.

So, I'm going to bring on the praise during the disappointment. You can bet. And I will repeat this until I turn as blue in the face as her gown: Cinderella's going to get another pretty dress!
SHARE:

Monday, February 15, 2010

to be completely fair...

"Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything."
-James 1:2-4



...I asked for this. I found a stack of note cards on the bookshelf beside the table I was sitting at in Carrier library this morning. Funny, finding a card that holds the definition of something that I've completely lacked the last few weeks (years). I have to say, I shouldn't be surprised by God's sense of humor any more. But sometimes, His comedy completely catches me off guard.
SHARE:

to be completely fair...

"Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything."
-James 1:2-4



...I asked for this. I found a stack of note cards on the bookshelf beside the table I was sitting at in Carrier library this morning. Funny, finding a card that holds the definition of something that I've completely lacked the last few weeks (years). I have to say, I shouldn't be surprised by God's sense of humor any more. But sometimes, His comedy completely catches me off guard.
SHARE:

Sunday, February 14, 2010

just in case you've forgotten

"Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. No one has ever seen God; but if we love one another, God lives in us and his love is made complete in us."
-1 John 4:11-12

Love is waiting.

I would love nothing more than to have God's love made complete in me.

What would my life look like if this were true of my walk with the Lord?

What would my life look like if I could look beyond the shortcomings of others? Beyond the mere specks in their eyes? To pour out pure, unassuming, genuine love.

What would my life look like if I could see beyond the plank in my own eye? In my own heart? I have so many shortcomings that I am in constant awareness of. They have been mingling in my mind for several seasons. They cause me to cling to the hem of my Father's robe. To listen ever so carefully. To not just be aware of God, but to put my head to the floor to acknowledge His footsteps.

Why is this so hard to comprehend? Twenty-one years, and still it has not gotten through to me: Through my shortcomings, according to scripture, I am made complete by and through God's love.

Love is waiting. Even for someone like me. Even for someone like you. This is remarkable. This love is remarkable.

SHARE:

just in case you've forgotten

"Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. No one has ever seen God; but if we love one another, God lives in us and his love is made complete in us."
-1 John 4:11-12

Love is waiting.

I would love nothing more than to have God's love made complete in me.

What would my life look like if this were true of my walk with the Lord?

What would my life look like if I could look beyond the shortcomings of others? Beyond the mere specks in their eyes? To pour out pure, unassuming, genuine love.

What would my life look like if I could see beyond the plank in my own eye? In my own heart? I have so many shortcomings that I am in constant awareness of. They have been mingling in my mind for several seasons. They cause me to cling to the hem of my Father's robe. To listen ever so carefully. To not just be aware of God, but to put my head to the floor to acknowledge His footsteps.

Why is this so hard to comprehend? Twenty-one years, and still it has not gotten through to me: Through my shortcomings, according to scripture, I am made complete by and through God's love.

Love is waiting. Even for someone like me. Even for someone like you. This is remarkable. This love is remarkable.

SHARE:

Saturday, February 13, 2010

some day

"I like nonsense, it wakes up the brain cells. Fantasy is a necessary ingredient in living, it's a way of looking at life through the wrong end of a telescope. Which is what I do, and that enables you to laugh at life's realities."
-Theodore Geisel

Some day my productivity prince will come. Some day I will be able to look at a potential future employer and say with a beaming confidence, "Yes, I will use company time wisely. I'd be a great asset to you."

So, perhaps it was the lack of scheduling. Perhaps it was the fact that I had a make-up class at 8 o'clock this morning. Maybe it was because I'm beginning to see the graduation light at the end of the education tunnel. Maybe that's why today, my "productivity prince" (little ironic nickname on the eve of Valentine's day) fell off of his white steed. Maybe that's why I got nothing productive done today. Nothing at all.

Productivity: zilch. It is nowhere to be found. Maybe some day I'll get it back. But I kind of like giving myself days to just kick back and worry about nothing except for how to keep bed sheets from slipping off the table that is supporting a large fort that encompasses the entire living room of my apartment.

That's right. An English major's reading haven. You're only allowed to enter if you mimic an Australian accent and utter the word "nematode." And if you have a good book to read. We're more exclusive than Oprah.
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some day

"I like nonsense, it wakes up the brain cells. Fantasy is a necessary ingredient in living, it's a way of looking at life through the wrong end of a telescope. Which is what I do, and that enables you to laugh at life's realities."
-Theodore Geisel

Some day my productivity prince will come. Some day I will be able to look at a potential future employer and say with a beaming confidence, "Yes, I will use company time wisely. I'd be a great asset to you."

So, perhaps it was the lack of scheduling. Perhaps it was the fact that I had a make-up class at 8 o'clock this morning. Maybe it was because I'm beginning to see the graduation light at the end of the education tunnel. Maybe that's why today, my "productivity prince" (little ironic nickname on the eve of Valentine's day) fell off of his white steed. Maybe that's why I got nothing productive done today. Nothing at all.

Productivity: zilch. It is nowhere to be found. Maybe some day I'll get it back. But I kind of like giving myself days to just kick back and worry about nothing except for how to keep bed sheets from slipping off the table that is supporting a large fort that encompasses the entire living room of my apartment.

That's right. An English major's reading haven. You're only allowed to enter if you mimic an Australian accent and utter the word "nematode." And if you have a good book to read. We're more exclusive than Oprah.
SHARE:

Thursday, February 11, 2010

slipper shennanigans



"And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who are called according to His purpose."
-Romans 8:28

When I was a little girl, I would watch this part of Disney's Cinderella and cry until my face felt like it was going to explode.

It's not fair. Her wicked stepsisters threw out their sash and beads. They didn't even want them. How could they? Cinderella's mice friends worked so hard on that dress. Further, Cinderella finished all of the chores that Lady Tremaine had dumped on her just hours before.

I'm sure it broke my parent's hard to hear these shennanigans go down every so often in our living room.

"Why is Brett crying?"
"The stepsisters ripped Cinderella's dress again."
"Oh..."

I was usually either crying for one of two reasons: Cinderella's ripped dress or the fact that Toto got away from the witch in the Wizard of Oz.

One day, according to my mom, I was watching Cinderella and once again, the waterworks began. Then, all of a sudden, my brown-curly head popped up, smiled and said, "Don't worry, Cinderella's going to get another pretty dress!"

It was true. Though she truly looked lovely in the pink and white (old fashioned) gown, it does not compare to the beautiful, sparking blue one that the fair godmother "Bibbidbopiddibooed" her into before the fancy ball.

There's a reason they don't sell the pink and white ones to little girls in the Disney store. The blue one's better.

I feel like this analogy loosely resembles my plans for my life, versus God's plan for my life. To this day, when things aren't going according to my plan...when I feel like my heart has been ripped apart by the world, and I have been cheated and feel discouraged, my mom will turn my five-year-old words back on me:

"Mom, I didn't get the job."
Cinderella's going to get another pretty dress.
"Mom, no one here wants to date me."
Cinderella's going to get another pretty dress.
"Mom, I don't feel like I can ever measure up."
Cinderella's going to get another pretty dress.

Sometimes it's easy to feel hopeless. It's easy to believe the lies of the world. To get discouraged when your life doesn't go according to plan. When you are tempted to feel this way, think back to one of the most beloved fairy tales of our time. While Cinderella gets another pretty dress, God has a better plan for you. The very definition of God is a "better hope."

Girls, wait for your pretty dress. It's more captivating that you could ever imagine.


SHARE:

slipper shennanigans



"And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who are called according to His purpose."
-Romans 8:28

When I was a little girl, I would watch this part of Disney's Cinderella and cry until my face felt like it was going to explode.

It's not fair. Her wicked stepsisters threw out their sash and beads. They didn't even want them. How could they? Cinderella's mice friends worked so hard on that dress. Further, Cinderella finished all of the chores that Lady Tremaine had dumped on her just hours before.

I'm sure it broke my parent's hard to hear these shennanigans go down every so often in our living room.

"Why is Brett crying?"
"The stepsisters ripped Cinderella's dress again."
"Oh..."

I was usually either crying for one of two reasons: Cinderella's ripped dress or the fact that Toto got away from the witch in the Wizard of Oz.

One day, according to my mom, I was watching Cinderella and once again, the waterworks began. Then, all of a sudden, my brown-curly head popped up, smiled and said, "Don't worry, Cinderella's going to get another pretty dress!"

It was true. Though she truly looked lovely in the pink and white (old fashioned) gown, it does not compare to the beautiful, sparking blue one that the fair godmother "Bibbidbopiddibooed" her into before the fancy ball.

There's a reason they don't sell the pink and white ones to little girls in the Disney store. The blue one's better.

I feel like this analogy loosely resembles my plans for my life, versus God's plan for my life. To this day, when things aren't going according to my plan...when I feel like my heart has been ripped apart by the world, and I have been cheated and feel discouraged, my mom will turn my five-year-old words back on me:

"Mom, I didn't get the job."
Cinderella's going to get another pretty dress.
"Mom, no one here wants to date me."
Cinderella's going to get another pretty dress.
"Mom, I don't feel like I can ever measure up."
Cinderella's going to get another pretty dress.

Sometimes it's easy to feel hopeless. It's easy to believe the lies of the world. To get discouraged when your life doesn't go according to plan. When you are tempted to feel this way, think back to one of the most beloved fairy tales of our time. While Cinderella gets another pretty dress, God has a better plan for you. The very definition of God is a "better hope."

Girls, wait for your pretty dress. It's more captivating that you could ever imagine.


SHARE:

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

freak cupcake

Welcome to "15 Eggs," where we bake extraordinary things on snow days.

More like where my roommates bake extraordinary things and I help spread the calories. Really, I'm just trying to do my part. They should be thanking me, I've taken a lot of bullets for their sweet behinds.

Today's menu consists of a freak cupcake.

This cupcake was probably made fun of in high school (but will inevitably be rich, like all cupcake freak highschoolers are). It probably has a hard time finding jeans that fit right. It probably feels like there's no where it belongs. That no one could ever love it. My poor (not-s0) little freak cupcake, if only it knew how much it was loved.

If only it knew that it always has a place in my heart. And my tummy.

Brigitte Dale, my favorite video blogger on youtube loves cupcakes. If she knew who I was, or was my friend like I pretend that she is, I would totally have baked this crazy cupcake for her. But she doesn't know me. And we are not friends. Not even a little bit. Therefore, this cupcake is a challenge that the 15 Eggs girls will have to face on their own.

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aknZ_BebofY&hl=en_US&fs=1&color1=0x5d1719&color2=0xcd311b]
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freak cupcake

Welcome to "15 Eggs," where we bake extraordinary things on snow days.

More like where my roommates bake extraordinary things and I help spread the calories. Really, I'm just trying to do my part. They should be thanking me, I've taken a lot of bullets for their sweet behinds.

Today's menu consists of a freak cupcake.

This cupcake was probably made fun of in high school (but will inevitably be rich, like all cupcake freak highschoolers are). It probably has a hard time finding jeans that fit right. It probably feels like there's no where it belongs. That no one could ever love it. My poor (not-s0) little freak cupcake, if only it knew how much it was loved.

If only it knew that it always has a place in my heart. And my tummy.

Brigitte Dale, my favorite video blogger on youtube loves cupcakes. If she knew who I was, or was my friend like I pretend that she is, I would totally have baked this crazy cupcake for her. But she doesn't know me. And we are not friends. Not even a little bit. Therefore, this cupcake is a challenge that the 15 Eggs girls will have to face on their own.

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Tuesday, February 9, 2010

happy belated birthday, blog!

Even though I neglected you for that good little while, and thought I had nothing to say, you remained a faithful friend. A safety valve for my unspoken and certainly unpublished words.

Here's to a new year of writing and one-click publishing. Spending time with you is like catching up with an old friend.

Or eating key lime pie.

Now, blow out those candles and make a quick wish!

Love, me.
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happy belated birthday, blog!

Even though I neglected you for that good little while, and thought I had nothing to say, you remained a faithful friend. A safety valve for my unspoken and certainly unpublished words.

Here's to a new year of writing and one-click publishing. Spending time with you is like catching up with an old friend.

Or eating key lime pie.

Now, blow out those candles and make a quick wish!

Love, me.
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silence is golden

I'm not a violent person.

I am, however, an impatient person. That might be worse.

When people are having a loud conversation in Carrier library while I'm trying to study...

I imagine what would happen if I chucked one of my heavy/expensive textbooks in their faces.

Is it wrong to think that it might be very satisfying?

Further, what's going on with my hair in this picture? I look like I'm wearing some sort of baby cowboy hat. Just an observation.
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silence is golden

I'm not a violent person.

I am, however, an impatient person. That might be worse.

When people are having a loud conversation in Carrier library while I'm trying to study...

I imagine what would happen if I chucked one of my heavy/expensive textbooks in their faces.

Is it wrong to think that it might be very satisfying?

Further, what's going on with my hair in this picture? I look like I'm wearing some sort of baby cowboy hat. Just an observation.
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all the things I would say

"God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging."
Psalm 46:1-3

If I were oppression, I would say
Question me. Study me. Laugh at me.
I would say
Throw up the shades into the air
Like a kite in the wind.
Let the light burn through the pane.
I would say run wild into the sea.
Let the waves burst through your very soul. Let the salt of your tears bandage your heartache. Fall to the ground. Dig your fingers into the dirt.

I've seen the world, and the world I've seen is fruitless. The thread of hand-me-down history is frayed. The knot is not satisfied by mere man.

I would say
Wake, rise. Child, you are not alone.
Can't you see I make you strong?
For God does not rest until creation is complete.
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all the things I would say

"God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging."
Psalm 46:1-3

If I were oppression, I would say
Question me. Study me. Laugh at me.
I would say
Throw up the shades into the air
Like a kite in the wind.
Let the light burn through the pane.
I would say run wild into the sea.
Let the waves burst through your very soul. Let the salt of your tears bandage your heartache. Fall to the ground. Dig your fingers into the dirt.

I've seen the world, and the world I've seen is fruitless. The thread of hand-me-down history is frayed. The knot is not satisfied by mere man.

I would say
Wake, rise. Child, you are not alone.
Can't you see I make you strong?
For God does not rest until creation is complete.
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Monday, February 8, 2010

I carry your heart in my heart

"I thank God every time I remember you."
Philippians 1:3


I am made of nearly nothing. Most mornings I can't even keep the coffee in my cup. Every day when that fluid sloshes out of my Wizard of Oz mug and onto my barely awake palm, it's a scalding reminder of how utterly human I am.

And yet, God cares enough about this nearly nothing, clumsy, coffee-spilling woman to give her the greatest friends in the world.

Whoever thought that an a cappella group could create such a lasting and meaningful bond? It just goes to show that Christ moves in miraculous (yes, miraculous) ways when He is at the complete center of something. This group breathes Christ, together.

I didn't know in January 2007 how badly I needed this sisterhood. All I knew is that I wanted in. After my second audition, and my callback, I was in my dorm room in Frederikson Hall on my knees, praying to be blessed with this opportunity.

That night I got a phone call from Brett Batten Baker telling me to meet her outside. It was 2 a.m., and I was an Into Hymn member. Ever since then, my life has been completely torn down and rebuilt. All in the name of Him. All through Him. All the while being supported and loved and grown by Into Hymn.

Yes, we sing songs. We have business meetings. We perform at churches, we sell CDs, we fund raise (sometimes). More importantly we worship. Not just with our songs, but with our lives. We hold each other up. We carry each other's hearts in our hearts. We carry each others burdens and praises in our hearts. In our souls. But, it's no secret like the poet E.E. Cummings would suggest.

And, to top it all off, we're all completely nuts.

Who else would ask "How's your mom?" in order to perform a front teeth check for food gunk? Who else would say "When life gives you lemons make beef stew"? Who else would speak in borderline offensive (but, c'mon it's hilarious) Hispanic-lispy accents? Who else would have countless "turn and laugh" pictures.

Further, who would spend hours in Virgil's Barbeque in NYC taking care of the sick. Who would stop by to drop off crackers and soup when you've been throwing up all day? Who else would drop hundreds of dollars to make sure that everyone was included? Who else would give a constant shoulder to cry on, a constant ear to listen to, and a constant hand to lift and support?

Jesus Christ would. And though we have not yet taken hold of perfection...Even though we all spill our coffee and bite our tongues, Into Hymn would too.

All I know is that the ways of the world grow strangely dim when I am living among these girls.



Photo Credit: Mikaela Steinweddle, Photographer extraordinaire, and Into Hymn Noob
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I carry your heart in my heart

"I thank God every time I remember you."
Philippians 1:3


I am made of nearly nothing. Most mornings I can't even keep the coffee in my cup. Every day when that fluid sloshes out of my Wizard of Oz mug and onto my barely awake palm, it's a scalding reminder of how utterly human I am.

And yet, God cares enough about this nearly nothing, clumsy, coffee-spilling woman to give her the greatest friends in the world.

Whoever thought that an a cappella group could create such a lasting and meaningful bond? It just goes to show that Christ moves in miraculous (yes, miraculous) ways when He is at the complete center of something. This group breathes Christ, together.

I didn't know in January 2007 how badly I needed this sisterhood. All I knew is that I wanted in. After my second audition, and my callback, I was in my dorm room in Frederikson Hall on my knees, praying to be blessed with this opportunity.

That night I got a phone call from Brett Batten Baker telling me to meet her outside. It was 2 a.m., and I was an Into Hymn member. Ever since then, my life has been completely torn down and rebuilt. All in the name of Him. All through Him. All the while being supported and loved and grown by Into Hymn.

Yes, we sing songs. We have business meetings. We perform at churches, we sell CDs, we fund raise (sometimes). More importantly we worship. Not just with our songs, but with our lives. We hold each other up. We carry each other's hearts in our hearts. We carry each others burdens and praises in our hearts. In our souls. But, it's no secret like the poet E.E. Cummings would suggest.

And, to top it all off, we're all completely nuts.

Who else would ask "How's your mom?" in order to perform a front teeth check for food gunk? Who else would say "When life gives you lemons make beef stew"? Who else would speak in borderline offensive (but, c'mon it's hilarious) Hispanic-lispy accents? Who else would have countless "turn and laugh" pictures.

Further, who would spend hours in Virgil's Barbeque in NYC taking care of the sick. Who would stop by to drop off crackers and soup when you've been throwing up all day? Who else would drop hundreds of dollars to make sure that everyone was included? Who else would give a constant shoulder to cry on, a constant ear to listen to, and a constant hand to lift and support?

Jesus Christ would. And though we have not yet taken hold of perfection...Even though we all spill our coffee and bite our tongues, Into Hymn would too.

All I know is that the ways of the world grow strangely dim when I am living among these girls.



Photo Credit: Mikaela Steinweddle, Photographer extraordinaire, and Into Hymn Noob
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Sunday, February 7, 2010

feed the musical nerd, tuppence a bag

"She may be tricky, but she's bloody good!"
-Michael Banks, Mary Poppins

Please be patient with me while I gush about this show.

Even now as I sit here and type, I'm youtubing and adding the soundtrack to my iTunes Library. I have seventeen dollars in my bank account right now, and I don't even care.

I make no apologies for how sporadic this post is. I feel like my attitude right now reflects Mary Poppins'. That, to me, is sweeter than a spoonful of sugar.

I walked out of the New Amsterdam theater in New York City last night a complete train wreck. My scarf was drenched with my snot-tear mix. That show had me bawling. I was wiping my face and blowing my nose into my favorite pashmina scarf, it was so phenomenal.

Kicked In the Height's butt, kicked Legally Blonde's butt (which Christian Borle, the actor who played "Bert" also played the lead-male role of "Emett" when I saw the original Broadway cast in 2007), kicked Phantom of the Opera's butt. I mean, come on. Phantom had flying chandeliers, but no flying people...And there were flying people. Yes, of this you can be quite certain.

Laura Michelle Kelly (Mary Poppins) was practically perfect in this show. She fluttered around stage, so cheerfully and properly. Her voice was like a slice of cheesecake. Rich and full. Creamy. Delightful.

But, even if you could forget the spectacular performers, the singing, the dancing (by the way, you couldn't forget it, ever. "Bert" danced on the ceiling during Step in Time my ultimate favorite number of the show) and the set, the message it carried was so deep, and so real. I think this is what touched me the most.

It was full of such wisdom, with things like, "You can choose the super or the superficial." It was full of such strong women. While Mary Poppins was the example of fun and neatness, Mrs. Banks was the example of a loving mother and wife.

It brought me back to my childhood. It made me thankful for it. It made me believe that anything can happen, if I let it.

My favorite line of all of the show came from the song Anything Can Happen.
"If you reach for the stars, all you get is the stars. But we've got a whole new spin: if you reach for the heavens you get the stars thrown in!"
This show made me want to reach for the heavens. To have the stars thrown in. All dramatics and unadvertant corniness aside, it was wonderful. Better than wonderful, in fact. You'd have to make up a word to describe how wonderful it was.

Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.

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feed the musical nerd, tuppence a bag

"She may be tricky, but she's bloody good!"
-Michael Banks, Mary Poppins

Please be patient with me while I gush about this show.

Even now as I sit here and type, I'm youtubing and adding the soundtrack to my iTunes Library. I have seventeen dollars in my bank account right now, and I don't even care.

I make no apologies for how sporadic this post is. I feel like my attitude right now reflects Mary Poppins'. That, to me, is sweeter than a spoonful of sugar.

I walked out of the New Amsterdam theater in New York City last night a complete train wreck. My scarf was drenched with my snot-tear mix. That show had me bawling. I was wiping my face and blowing my nose into my favorite pashmina scarf, it was so phenomenal.

Kicked In the Height's butt, kicked Legally Blonde's butt (which Christian Borle, the actor who played "Bert" also played the lead-male role of "Emett" when I saw the original Broadway cast in 2007), kicked Phantom of the Opera's butt. I mean, come on. Phantom had flying chandeliers, but no flying people...And there were flying people. Yes, of this you can be quite certain.

Laura Michelle Kelly (Mary Poppins) was practically perfect in this show. She fluttered around stage, so cheerfully and properly. Her voice was like a slice of cheesecake. Rich and full. Creamy. Delightful.

But, even if you could forget the spectacular performers, the singing, the dancing (by the way, you couldn't forget it, ever. "Bert" danced on the ceiling during Step in Time my ultimate favorite number of the show) and the set, the message it carried was so deep, and so real. I think this is what touched me the most.

It was full of such wisdom, with things like, "You can choose the super or the superficial." It was full of such strong women. While Mary Poppins was the example of fun and neatness, Mrs. Banks was the example of a loving mother and wife.

It brought me back to my childhood. It made me thankful for it. It made me believe that anything can happen, if I let it.

My favorite line of all of the show came from the song Anything Can Happen.
"If you reach for the stars, all you get is the stars. But we've got a whole new spin: if you reach for the heavens you get the stars thrown in!"
This show made me want to reach for the heavens. To have the stars thrown in. All dramatics and unadvertant corniness aside, it was wonderful. Better than wonderful, in fact. You'd have to make up a word to describe how wonderful it was.

Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.

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Thursday, February 4, 2010

hey, mr. producer

"Want the moon and nothing less? Work for years then overnight success. Very good plan. Only in New York!"
-Only in New York, Thoroughly Modern Millie

Finally!

My favorite place on earth with my favorite people on earth.

That's right. Leaving TONIGHT for New York City with Into Hymn. I am prepared to be the most obnoxious tourist ever (my camera has been charging for days).

Also, we're seeing Marry Poppins. Obviously cannot wait to blog about that. I'm so excited I could throw up (although, that may just be repercussion from sickness that I've had all week...no big deal).

Gosh, I love senior year!
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hey, mr. producer

"Want the moon and nothing less? Work for years then overnight success. Very good plan. Only in New York!"
-Only in New York, Thoroughly Modern Millie

Finally!

My favorite place on earth with my favorite people on earth.

That's right. Leaving TONIGHT for New York City with Into Hymn. I am prepared to be the most obnoxious tourist ever (my camera has been charging for days).

Also, we're seeing Marry Poppins. Obviously cannot wait to blog about that. I'm so excited I could throw up (although, that may just be repercussion from sickness that I've had all week...no big deal).

Gosh, I love senior year!
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Tuesday, February 2, 2010

wishing you were somehow here again

"Oooo, there must be grass-covered igloos out here..." -Danny Kaye, White Christmas

Snow.

The buzzword of elementary schools all over Harrisonburg, Virginia today. At approximately 12:15 p.m. (I was in my Film Adaptations class at the time, so specific time of flurry arrival is unfortunately unknown), the first signs of flakeage appeared.

It fell. At 4:15 p.m., a mass-text was sent to the entire James Madison University student population. There is truly no better feeling than seeing a message in your inbox from the number 231-77. The university closed at 6:15.

I had the first free night since school began.

Then it hit me. This might be my last year for school cancellations due to inclimate weather. Through every winter season of my life, I specifically remember sitting in front of the television waiting to see "Hanover County Public Schools Closed."

Oh the rejoicing that took place when that little line beneath the news anchor would appear. After thoroughly humiliating myself in backwards, up-side-down, inside-out pajamas (c'mon, you know you still do it), and doing a fantastic snow dance, it was always so nice to know that my snow prayers had been answered.

In Hanover County, we have this song that's called "God bless Beaver Dam." Beaver Dam is a particular part of the county where no one goes in and no one comes out...totally kidding. But the roads are totally twisty-turny. No lie, I can remember several "snow days" of Hanover County that had no snow at all. And really, there is no worse feeling than getting up at the crack of dawn, expecting to see the ground covered in a beautiful blanket of snow...only to see brown, dead grass.

But, hey, we still missed school. All thanks to Beaver Dam!

So, you can imagine how heart-wrenching it is to know that as a senior in college, this was my last chance for snow days. Now when I miss work due to snow, I'll be chipping away at my sick days. But you know, I think a small part of me will still be overjoyed for the kids in school who get a snow day. I'll be thinking of my childhood while watching the screen flash the names of schools closed for the day.

Only now we have mass texts sent to our phones. I'm not sure that's better, suspense-wise. I certainly want to sit in front of the television with my children, waiting for [insert name of county I'll be living in here] schools to be closed. I'll teach them all about the inside-out pajamas thing. And the snow dance.

Some things are sacred, you know?
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wishing you were somehow here again

"Oooo, there must be grass-covered igloos out here..." -Danny Kaye, White Christmas

Snow.

The buzzword of elementary schools all over Harrisonburg, Virginia today. At approximately 12:15 p.m. (I was in my Film Adaptations class at the time, so specific time of flurry arrival is unfortunately unknown), the first signs of flakeage appeared.

It fell. At 4:15 p.m., a mass-text was sent to the entire James Madison University student population. There is truly no better feeling than seeing a message in your inbox from the number 231-77. The university closed at 6:15.

I had the first free night since school began.

Then it hit me. This might be my last year for school cancellations due to inclimate weather. Through every winter season of my life, I specifically remember sitting in front of the television waiting to see "Hanover County Public Schools Closed."

Oh the rejoicing that took place when that little line beneath the news anchor would appear. After thoroughly humiliating myself in backwards, up-side-down, inside-out pajamas (c'mon, you know you still do it), and doing a fantastic snow dance, it was always so nice to know that my snow prayers had been answered.

In Hanover County, we have this song that's called "God bless Beaver Dam." Beaver Dam is a particular part of the county where no one goes in and no one comes out...totally kidding. But the roads are totally twisty-turny. No lie, I can remember several "snow days" of Hanover County that had no snow at all. And really, there is no worse feeling than getting up at the crack of dawn, expecting to see the ground covered in a beautiful blanket of snow...only to see brown, dead grass.

But, hey, we still missed school. All thanks to Beaver Dam!

So, you can imagine how heart-wrenching it is to know that as a senior in college, this was my last chance for snow days. Now when I miss work due to snow, I'll be chipping away at my sick days. But you know, I think a small part of me will still be overjoyed for the kids in school who get a snow day. I'll be thinking of my childhood while watching the screen flash the names of schools closed for the day.

Only now we have mass texts sent to our phones. I'm not sure that's better, suspense-wise. I certainly want to sit in front of the television with my children, waiting for [insert name of county I'll be living in here] schools to be closed. I'll teach them all about the inside-out pajamas thing. And the snow dance.

Some things are sacred, you know?
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