For those of you who don’t know, I’ve worked at Streamline Swimming for the past two summers. Streamline is (slightly obviously) a swim shop—the only swim shop in Albuquerque, and possibly in all of New Mexico. For clarification: a swim shop is not to be confused with a pool store, of which there are plenty in NM. We sell competitive swimming apparel and gear, not backyard pools or chemicals. And no, we do not have a pool somewhere “in the back”.
While not all of my hours spent behind the counter were enjoyable (actually, some of them were downright awful), I definitely learned a thing or two during my tenure as a saleswoman. For example, I learned that Speedo can be incredibly unreliable and that backorders suck for everyone. I learned that a C.O.D is sometimes something other than a very salty fish. I learned how to squirm my way out of awkward fitting room confrontations, such as “Augh, will you look at these thunder thighs!” or “I’m pretty large in this general area, got anything that will work?” and “No, the 34 doesn’t fit…or the 36…or the 38…do you have a 40?” I’ve learned to smile and let it go when being yelled at for something that couldn’t (in a hundred million years) be my fault. I’ve learned to be outgoing—to make fun of myself—to be honest and open all in an attempt to win the customer’s confidence. I’ve learned about the different suit fabrics and which last the longest; I’ve studied the different levels of racing suits and sold a few LZR Racers (the gods of the swimsuit world); I know which type of fin the customer needs; and how to fit the customer with their perfect goggle fit—I bet you had no idea that there was a science to a lot of this stuff…
I now know all of the Club, High school, Metro, and Sundance teams in the area; I know which team suit goes on which wriggling kid; I know how to deal with our primitive register; I know when to decide for the customer and when to be quiet and let them decide for themselves.
I am Saleswoman.
I came. I saw. I conquered (or at least wasn’t completely defeated).
However, this is the end of the line for my stint in retail. It’s over, folks. The summer has ended and with it, my career at Streamline. As of last Thursday, August 12, 2010, I, Hayley Huber, will never again work in retail! Maybe next I’ll give restaurant work a try—or something to do with children (maybe I’ll try swim coaching again)—or cabinet making… but retail? No, sorry. It’s time to move on. Time to test new waters.
I am very thankful for the job, really I am. But I’m not going to pretend that I didn’t skip to my car after I locked the door behind me for the last time.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Llamas and Princes and Eskimos--Oh My!
Okay, so this past weekend I got to go on a road trip with five of my closest girlfriends—Emily, Tiana, Hannah, Faith, and Kirsten—and Tiana’s mom, Mrs. Turner (who didn’t get to go to Ireland because she broke her ankle). We left early (truly early, not teenager early) on Friday morning for Colorado Springs where we got to experience the majesty of the Garden of the Gods. I know I’ve been there before (I spend more vacation time in CO Springs than anywhere else), but honestly, I couldn’t remember it—you’d think I’d remember something with a name like “Garden of the Gods”. There, Emily disregarded the rules and climbed beyond the “Do Not Climb Farther Than This Sign” sign. (We were determined to get in trouble somehow—we’ve never gotten into trouble before and this trip seemed like the perfect chance to do so. Sadly, we never did end up getting arrested or even getting cited for anything. Darn.) Then this huge storm broke out—it was like the gods were angry with us for trying to echo certain words off the rocks and around the park (‘certain words’ is not as bad as it sounds. Remember, the six of us can’t get into trouble even when we try).
Then we drove to Castle Rock where Tiana’s grandparents have a thirty-five acre ranch. Cool? Most definitely. There we did things like drive on the wrong side of the road (unintentionally), bake a gluten free cake that Emily didn’t even eat (I’m not bitter, Emily, just cynical), sleep deeply, succumb to the plague distributed by Emily, leave the keys in the engine and the engine running (unintentionally), and attend a Renaissance fair.
Apparently I have been to this Renaissance fair before, but I don’t remember it (I seem to do this a lot). It’s kind of incredible that I don’t remember it because it was…interesting. Very interesting.
Tiana made us wear these fairy wings that we had painted ourselves, and when we first pulled into the parking lot I think Faith and I wanted to kill Tiana because we didn’t see anyone else who was dressed as ridiculously as we were. Then we got out of the car. Yeah—us, weird? No, not even slightly. There were Zelda women in leather bikinis with leather pleated skirts and leather boots; there were Amazon-looking characters (fur, dreadlocks, etc.); there were black cloaked figures; there were people of unknown-sex with horned animal costumes; and there were “regular” people dressed as lords and ladies. Our brightly colored, sparking wings were subtle.
The fair was very exciting—new sounds, new smells, lots of flirting vendors...an intense black knight (why do I always go for the bad ones?), Charming and Dashing, corn on the cob, and a frozen chocolate-covered banana (oh, childhood on a stick!), being followed by a troop of college-aged Links (who made their costumes themselves. They were clearly our soul mates.) I enjoyed myself thoroughly.
Later we celebrated Tiana’s 20th birthday and I discovered a new heartthrob: Rock Hudson. Why are all of my on-screen heartthrobs a good four decades before my time? (For example: Paul Newman, Jimmy Stewart, Hawkeye Pierce…)
(That's Tiana and I at the top there--staring death in the face.)
Then we drove to Castle Rock where Tiana’s grandparents have a thirty-five acre ranch. Cool? Most definitely. There we did things like drive on the wrong side of the road (unintentionally), bake a gluten free cake that Emily didn’t even eat (I’m not bitter, Emily, just cynical), sleep deeply, succumb to the plague distributed by Emily, leave the keys in the engine and the engine running (unintentionally), and attend a Renaissance fair.
Apparently I have been to this Renaissance fair before, but I don’t remember it (I seem to do this a lot). It’s kind of incredible that I don’t remember it because it was…interesting. Very interesting.
Tiana made us wear these fairy wings that we had painted ourselves, and when we first pulled into the parking lot I think Faith and I wanted to kill Tiana because we didn’t see anyone else who was dressed as ridiculously as we were. Then we got out of the car. Yeah—us, weird? No, not even slightly. There were Zelda women in leather bikinis with leather pleated skirts and leather boots; there were Amazon-looking characters (fur, dreadlocks, etc.); there were black cloaked figures; there were people of unknown-sex with horned animal costumes; and there were “regular” people dressed as lords and ladies. Our brightly colored, sparking wings were subtle.
The fair was very exciting—new sounds, new smells, lots of flirting vendors...an intense black knight (why do I always go for the bad ones?), Charming and Dashing, corn on the cob, and a frozen chocolate-covered banana (oh, childhood on a stick!), being followed by a troop of college-aged Links (who made their costumes themselves. They were clearly our soul mates.) I enjoyed myself thoroughly.
Later we celebrated Tiana’s 20th birthday and I discovered a new heartthrob: Rock Hudson. Why are all of my on-screen heartthrobs a good four decades before my time? (For example: Paul Newman, Jimmy Stewart, Hawkeye Pierce…)
On the way home we made a detour so that we could stop at Bishop Castle—a real live castle built of rocks and ironwork, constructed by a certifiably crazy man. There I climbed higher than I’ve ever climbed with so little to prevent me from falling to my certain death. (It’s privately owned, and the owner scoffs at safety). My knees, they shook. My breath came in gasps—just like it does in the books! Still, it was awesome.
(That's Tiana and I at the top there--staring death in the face.)The whole trip was awesome (it had its iffy moments--many of them brought about by me being an emotional, hormonal, teenager--but what trip doesn’t?). Thank You, Father for my wonderful friends and for this opportunity to spend quality time with them before we’re once again spread out all over the country.
I love you guys!
A Blog of Thankfulness
Hi.
Wow, it’s been forever.
I haven’t written anything (journaling excluded) in a million years.
I’ve been having the best of times; I’ve been having the worst of times. Much has been going on; absolutely nothing has been going on. My thoughts are in a tangle; my thoughts run as straight as—never mind—my thoughts are most definitely in a tangle.
In an effort to detangle them slightly, I want to focus on what I know to be true and what I know to be good. So, this blog is going to be a blog of thankfulness.
I’m going to use bullets (I love bullets! Thank You, God, for bullets!) because I can.
· I am thankful that I get to blog at work (do you know anyone else who gets to blog at work?—hold on, have to answer the phone…)
· I am thankful that I gave the lady calling from ABQ magazine a chance to laugh—I don’t mind if you laugh at me…I can laugh at me (I’m thankful that I can laugh at me! )
· I’m thankful for my parents, both of whom have been working tirelessly to make me feel better not just this week, but every week of my life. I’m thankful for their encouragement, for their wider perspective of the world and it’s problems, and for their love—a love that’s been tested (tested frequently I'm sorry to say) and proven true.
· I am thankful for my new miniature cupcake tin and the tiny cupcakes to which it gives life! Aughhhh—they’re so incredibly adorable (yes, adorable) I can’t even take it. I cooed over them. Really, I did.
· I’m thankful for the Eskimos and the joy (and tears—what’s a friendship without tears?) that they bring to my life. I’m so thankful for our absolutely AMAZING trip to Colorado!
· I am thankful for my sister. My ready-made best friend forever attached to me by the biological bonds of kindred- spirit- hood. (You understand me, right Hannah?)
· I am thankful that I get to go to a good school in beautiful Pennsylvania where I will learn to be the kind of teacher that the world needs. It’s a lofty goal, but you bet I’ll aspire to it.
· I am thankful for the clouds and for the fact that it looks like it might rain in Albuquerque even if it never actually does…
· I’m thankful that I get to see both Tiana and Lorin tonight and that I get to bring them my beautiful tiny cupcakes!
· I’m thankful that the FedEx truck just pulled up and that it looks like I’ll now have something to do for a while—maybe. (Crossing my fingers. Are the boxes for me? FedEx lady, come back! Aw man. She left. Not even a tiny box for me.) Now I’m thankful that I can keep blogging.
· I’m thankful that I don’t look like a fat boy with long hair in my new passport picture!
· I am thankful that I didn’t get eaten by the huge dogs yesterday or die of a heart attack.
· I’m thankful that we get to go to Creede soon where there’ll be TERRIFIC hikes and G.O.R.P. (good old raisins and peanuts) and family!
I am thankful that God is here with me and that He's never, not even once, left me for a minute. Thank You, Jesus.
Wow, it’s been forever.
I haven’t written anything (journaling excluded) in a million years.
I’ve been having the best of times; I’ve been having the worst of times. Much has been going on; absolutely nothing has been going on. My thoughts are in a tangle; my thoughts run as straight as—never mind—my thoughts are most definitely in a tangle.
In an effort to detangle them slightly, I want to focus on what I know to be true and what I know to be good. So, this blog is going to be a blog of thankfulness.
I’m going to use bullets (I love bullets! Thank You, God, for bullets!) because I can.
· I am thankful that I get to blog at work (do you know anyone else who gets to blog at work?—hold on, have to answer the phone…)
· I am thankful that I gave the lady calling from ABQ magazine a chance to laugh—I don’t mind if you laugh at me…I can laugh at me (I’m thankful that I can laugh at me! )
· I’m thankful for my parents, both of whom have been working tirelessly to make me feel better not just this week, but every week of my life. I’m thankful for their encouragement, for their wider perspective of the world and it’s problems, and for their love—a love that’s been tested (tested frequently I'm sorry to say) and proven true.
· I am thankful for my new miniature cupcake tin and the tiny cupcakes to which it gives life! Aughhhh—they’re so incredibly adorable (yes, adorable) I can’t even take it. I cooed over them. Really, I did.
· I’m thankful for the Eskimos and the joy (and tears—what’s a friendship without tears?) that they bring to my life. I’m so thankful for our absolutely AMAZING trip to Colorado!
· I am thankful for my sister. My ready-made best friend forever attached to me by the biological bonds of kindred- spirit- hood. (You understand me, right Hannah?)
· I am thankful that I get to go to a good school in beautiful Pennsylvania where I will learn to be the kind of teacher that the world needs. It’s a lofty goal, but you bet I’ll aspire to it.
· I am thankful for the clouds and for the fact that it looks like it might rain in Albuquerque even if it never actually does…
· I’m thankful that I get to see both Tiana and Lorin tonight and that I get to bring them my beautiful tiny cupcakes!
· I’m thankful that the FedEx truck just pulled up and that it looks like I’ll now have something to do for a while—maybe. (Crossing my fingers. Are the boxes for me? FedEx lady, come back! Aw man. She left. Not even a tiny box for me.) Now I’m thankful that I can keep blogging.
· I’m thankful that I don’t look like a fat boy with long hair in my new passport picture!
· I am thankful that I didn’t get eaten by the huge dogs yesterday or die of a heart attack.
· I’m thankful that we get to go to Creede soon where there’ll be TERRIFIC hikes and G.O.R.P. (good old raisins and peanuts) and family!
I am thankful that God is here with me and that He's never, not even once, left me for a minute. Thank You, Jesus.
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Home
Wow—it’s been a while.
Well, I’ve been finished with my freshman year of college for three weeks now. The weirdness of being home has passed (weird good and weird bad…) and now I’m just dealing with other weirdness. Like my childhood friend getting married. Weird. She’s younger than me. Weirder. Augh—when did I get so stinkin old?
It’s strange (sadly strange) not to have a roommate anymore. What’s stranger is that my room actually stays clean after I clean it…(haha, I LOVE you Amanda).
It’s odd to have a shower that’s bigger than a breadbox and not covered in mold. It’s weird not to have girls screaming down the hall at all hours of the night. It’s strange that everyone goes to bed before eleven.
It’s crazy how everything is all brown—I’d forgotten how sparse greenery is in New Mexico. Clothing and hairstyles are different here. People talk differently.
Anyways—I’m home, and it feels good. I’m refocusing on all that is important: God, family, friends… Hopefully I’ll be in the mood to blog over the next three months.
Well, I’ve been finished with my freshman year of college for three weeks now. The weirdness of being home has passed (weird good and weird bad…) and now I’m just dealing with other weirdness. Like my childhood friend getting married. Weird. She’s younger than me. Weirder. Augh—when did I get so stinkin old?
It’s strange (sadly strange) not to have a roommate anymore. What’s stranger is that my room actually stays clean after I clean it…(haha, I LOVE you Amanda).
It’s odd to have a shower that’s bigger than a breadbox and not covered in mold. It’s weird not to have girls screaming down the hall at all hours of the night. It’s strange that everyone goes to bed before eleven.
It’s crazy how everything is all brown—I’d forgotten how sparse greenery is in New Mexico. Clothing and hairstyles are different here. People talk differently.
Anyways—I’m home, and it feels good. I’m refocusing on all that is important: God, family, friends… Hopefully I’ll be in the mood to blog over the next three months.
Friday, January 1, 2010
Love; This is It
Love.
This is it. The only thing that matters.
God so LOVED us. LOVE the Lord your God. LOVE your neighbor as you LOVE yourself.
Serving God isn’t an act of sacrifice. Serving God is an act of love. It isn’t about what we give up, it isn’t about how hard we try, it’s about letting Christ in. “Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with him, and him with Me” (Rev. 3:20).
I want to serve God whole-heartedly. But my guilt, my fear of punishment, and my trepidation of missing out on a reward, though they may convict me powerfully, produce only a flimsy and temporary conviction because the focus of this guilt and fear is me.
In contrast, the Focus of love is God. The Source of love is God. The Giver of love is God.
Love is more powerful than men, than minds, than emotion, than evil.
We cannot live for God unless we love God.
We need to want to love God. And when we do not feel the desire to love Him, we must pray for the longing to long to love Him. We must draw near to Him, and when we do, He has promised to draw near to us (James 4:8).
God, help us to love You. How we are not already infatuated with You, we don’t understand. Why You desire our love, we cannot quite grasp. Why You love us, is hundreds of millions of miles beyond our power of comprehension. Change us this year. Please fill us with love. Fill us with huge and unquenchable love for You. Let us look forward to heaven—to the light of Your presence, the glory of Your being, and let us be filled with deep and fervent love for You.
This is it. The only thing that matters.
God so LOVED us. LOVE the Lord your God. LOVE your neighbor as you LOVE yourself.
Serving God isn’t an act of sacrifice. Serving God is an act of love. It isn’t about what we give up, it isn’t about how hard we try, it’s about letting Christ in. “Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with him, and him with Me” (Rev. 3:20).
I want to serve God whole-heartedly. But my guilt, my fear of punishment, and my trepidation of missing out on a reward, though they may convict me powerfully, produce only a flimsy and temporary conviction because the focus of this guilt and fear is me.
In contrast, the Focus of love is God. The Source of love is God. The Giver of love is God.
Love is more powerful than men, than minds, than emotion, than evil.
We cannot live for God unless we love God.
We need to want to love God. And when we do not feel the desire to love Him, we must pray for the longing to long to love Him. We must draw near to Him, and when we do, He has promised to draw near to us (James 4:8).
God, help us to love You. How we are not already infatuated with You, we don’t understand. Why You desire our love, we cannot quite grasp. Why You love us, is hundreds of millions of miles beyond our power of comprehension. Change us this year. Please fill us with love. Fill us with huge and unquenchable love for You. Let us look forward to heaven—to the light of Your presence, the glory of Your being, and let us be filled with deep and fervent love for You.
Monday, December 28, 2009
Crazy Love--You Might Not Finish This Post
Okay, so I’ve started a new book—I know some of you have read it because you’ve told me you have—called Crazy Love by Francis Chan. Today I read chapter 2, entitled, “you might not finish this chapter.” I really needed to hear what this chapter said, and chances are nearly every single one of you needs to hear it too. In short:
Life is not about you.
Life is about God.
Your life could end before the day does.
Really truly think about this. Please. Spend as much time as you need in order to begin to comprehend those three statements (it’s Christmas break—what else do you have to do today, seriously?). We will die. We could die today. I know it’s hard to grasp. To me, I’ve never not existed. It’s a weird concept (in addition to being grammatically confusing).
What really got me, though was an essay written by a twelve year old. A twelve year old. Please read it. Let it sink in. Let it change the way you view today. Pray that any motivation it creates within you will be long-lasting.
“Since I Have My Life Before Me
By Brooke Bronkowski
I’ll live my life to the fullest. I’ll be happy. I’ll brighten up. I will be more joyful than I have ever been. I will be kind to others. I will loosen up. I will tell others about Christ. I will go on adventures and change the world. I will be bold and not change who I really am. I will have no troubles but instead help others with their troubles.
You see, I’ll be one of those people who live to be history makers at a young age. Oh, Ill have moments, good and bad, but I will wipe away the bad and only remember the good. In fact, that’s all I remember, just good moments, nothing in between, just living my life to the fullest.
I’ll be one of those people who go somewhere with a mission, an awesome plan, a world-changing plan, and nothing will hold me back. I’ll set an example for others, I will pray for direction. I have my life before me. I will give others the joy I have and God will give me more joy. I will do everything God tells me to do. I will follow the footsteps of God. I will do my best!!!"
I know that initially the idea of having to live today for God kind of bogged me down--it's kind of embarassing to admit, but it's the truth. Then I thought, I don’t have to, I get to. It’s a privilege. Really truly, it’s a gift.
I'm not going to apologize if I made you feel uncomfortable. I think we all need to feel uncomfortable often. How else are we ever going to change? I don't want to be sorry for bringing up Christ. I don't ever want to feel like maybe He doesn't belong in the conversation, situation, note, whatever. I'm done with that nonsense.
Today I will live in love with Christ and allow myself to overflow with whatever small knowledge I possess of His great love for me. Do the same!
Life is not about you.
Life is about God.
Your life could end before the day does.
Really truly think about this. Please. Spend as much time as you need in order to begin to comprehend those three statements (it’s Christmas break—what else do you have to do today, seriously?). We will die. We could die today. I know it’s hard to grasp. To me, I’ve never not existed. It’s a weird concept (in addition to being grammatically confusing).
What really got me, though was an essay written by a twelve year old. A twelve year old. Please read it. Let it sink in. Let it change the way you view today. Pray that any motivation it creates within you will be long-lasting.
“Since I Have My Life Before Me
By Brooke Bronkowski
I’ll live my life to the fullest. I’ll be happy. I’ll brighten up. I will be more joyful than I have ever been. I will be kind to others. I will loosen up. I will tell others about Christ. I will go on adventures and change the world. I will be bold and not change who I really am. I will have no troubles but instead help others with their troubles.
You see, I’ll be one of those people who live to be history makers at a young age. Oh, Ill have moments, good and bad, but I will wipe away the bad and only remember the good. In fact, that’s all I remember, just good moments, nothing in between, just living my life to the fullest.
I’ll be one of those people who go somewhere with a mission, an awesome plan, a world-changing plan, and nothing will hold me back. I’ll set an example for others, I will pray for direction. I have my life before me. I will give others the joy I have and God will give me more joy. I will do everything God tells me to do. I will follow the footsteps of God. I will do my best!!!"
I know that initially the idea of having to live today for God kind of bogged me down--it's kind of embarassing to admit, but it's the truth. Then I thought, I don’t have to, I get to. It’s a privilege. Really truly, it’s a gift.
I'm not going to apologize if I made you feel uncomfortable. I think we all need to feel uncomfortable often. How else are we ever going to change? I don't want to be sorry for bringing up Christ. I don't ever want to feel like maybe He doesn't belong in the conversation, situation, note, whatever. I'm done with that nonsense.
Today I will live in love with Christ and allow myself to overflow with whatever small knowledge I possess of His great love for me. Do the same!
Monday, September 7, 2009
Collegio: A Synopsis
Collegio
A Synopsis
By Dr. Hayley Huber
Let me begin by stating that I’ve never seen the abbreviation for doctor perched so comfortably beside my name before. Actually, I’ve never seen it beside my name at all, comfy or not. It looks kind of nice. I think maybe I’ll go to college for six extra years just so I can add two little letters and a period to my title. In all truthfulness, I’d actually prefer to add three other letters and a different dot before my name—these letters you don’t have to go to school to get—but I guess that all that will happen in time.
You may be wondering why I decided to write this scholarly paper. If you are doing so at the moment, let me clear up a thing or two. And I shall use points, because they are sophisticated. 1.) I have the time. (Let me just insert here, that this tiny little statement may look rather common and inconspicuous, but is in reality a most unusual and mind-blowing assertion. Having said that, I shall resume.) 2.) I am feeling slightly dissatisfied with myself and with life at the moment, and rather than wallow in self pity—and extreme boredom—I’ve decided to make an attempt to cheer myself up. It is my greatest hope (and possibly a rather foolish one) that this long and high-worded, convoluted-sounding summation will cheer others up as well.
Now that I have discoursed on the way in which the ‘Dr.’ before my name makes me happy and the reasons why I decided to write this thing, I am running out of things to write about. Let me begin by saying (let me cut in on this sentence and draw your attention to the fact that I’ve said “let me” four—now five—times in the last three paragraphs. There are no psychological or literary implications to draw from my syntax so don’t strain your brains.) that I miss you all dreadfully. Dreadfully. (Repetition—in this case I am purposefully using repetition to convey to my readers a sense of great importance.) Dreadfully. (Have I conveyed enough? With the hopes that I indeed have, I continue…).
College is nice and all (and yes, I do realize that I am incredibly fortunate to be able to be here in this time in this place, knowing the people that I know, with plans God has formed for me stretching out into the distance. I know I am fortunate. Really. I’m just a little down and out right now. And I miss you all. Is that so wrong?) but it is significantly lacking in Eskimos, little sisters, Latinos, HP pals, kindred spirits, and parents. Oh, and dogs. And hamsters. (My hamster is still alive, right, Hannah?) And peach trees. And mountains which lend significantly to my sense of direction. And my room. My room. A moment of silence for my recently departed room. (Hahaha, yes that was a pun of sorts. You don’t have to like it.)
I know that I’ll survive here, but guys, I don’t want to survive. I want to thrive. (Yes, I made that up all by myself. I’m an English major. That sort of stuff just rolls of my tongue and plummets from my lips. Kind of like a grape or a pea.) Could you pray that I would live life like God desires me to? That I would be all that I am and learn to be more, rather than be content with less than who He’s made me to be? I love you all immensely and I think of you often. Thank you so much for being such positive influences in my life. Positive influences. What a lame idiom. With a wave of my magic English-Ed. wand I shall transform that lifeless and brittle phrase into something with depth and emotion.
Thank you so much for being such magnanimous paradigms in my life.
I love you. God bless you.
For the most part sincerely,
Hayley
A Synopsis
By Dr. Hayley Huber
Let me begin by stating that I’ve never seen the abbreviation for doctor perched so comfortably beside my name before. Actually, I’ve never seen it beside my name at all, comfy or not. It looks kind of nice. I think maybe I’ll go to college for six extra years just so I can add two little letters and a period to my title. In all truthfulness, I’d actually prefer to add three other letters and a different dot before my name—these letters you don’t have to go to school to get—but I guess that all that will happen in time.
You may be wondering why I decided to write this scholarly paper. If you are doing so at the moment, let me clear up a thing or two. And I shall use points, because they are sophisticated. 1.) I have the time. (Let me just insert here, that this tiny little statement may look rather common and inconspicuous, but is in reality a most unusual and mind-blowing assertion. Having said that, I shall resume.) 2.) I am feeling slightly dissatisfied with myself and with life at the moment, and rather than wallow in self pity—and extreme boredom—I’ve decided to make an attempt to cheer myself up. It is my greatest hope (and possibly a rather foolish one) that this long and high-worded, convoluted-sounding summation will cheer others up as well.
Now that I have discoursed on the way in which the ‘Dr.’ before my name makes me happy and the reasons why I decided to write this thing, I am running out of things to write about. Let me begin by saying (let me cut in on this sentence and draw your attention to the fact that I’ve said “let me” four—now five—times in the last three paragraphs. There are no psychological or literary implications to draw from my syntax so don’t strain your brains.) that I miss you all dreadfully. Dreadfully. (Repetition—in this case I am purposefully using repetition to convey to my readers a sense of great importance.) Dreadfully. (Have I conveyed enough? With the hopes that I indeed have, I continue…).
College is nice and all (and yes, I do realize that I am incredibly fortunate to be able to be here in this time in this place, knowing the people that I know, with plans God has formed for me stretching out into the distance. I know I am fortunate. Really. I’m just a little down and out right now. And I miss you all. Is that so wrong?) but it is significantly lacking in Eskimos, little sisters, Latinos, HP pals, kindred spirits, and parents. Oh, and dogs. And hamsters. (My hamster is still alive, right, Hannah?) And peach trees. And mountains which lend significantly to my sense of direction. And my room. My room. A moment of silence for my recently departed room. (Hahaha, yes that was a pun of sorts. You don’t have to like it.)
I know that I’ll survive here, but guys, I don’t want to survive. I want to thrive. (Yes, I made that up all by myself. I’m an English major. That sort of stuff just rolls of my tongue and plummets from my lips. Kind of like a grape or a pea.) Could you pray that I would live life like God desires me to? That I would be all that I am and learn to be more, rather than be content with less than who He’s made me to be? I love you all immensely and I think of you often. Thank you so much for being such positive influences in my life. Positive influences. What a lame idiom. With a wave of my magic English-Ed. wand I shall transform that lifeless and brittle phrase into something with depth and emotion.
Thank you so much for being such magnanimous paradigms in my life.
I love you. God bless you.
For the most part sincerely,
Hayley
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Just A Sampler
I leave in four days. I still have to pack three bags (and maybe my mom will let me stuff a few more things in her carry-on. That would be nice.). I need to spend more time understanding the strange and slightly over-my-head world of tuberculosis (wow! I spelled it right!) and foreign healthcare so that I can sound intelligent during our summer reading discussions. What is the conservative view on healthcare? Where can I find it? If I do find it, will I agree with it? Is it bad if I don’t agree with it entirely? Because it seems like what they were doing in Haiti was right. Good. Godly.
Tiana is gone. Tiana lives in a dorm. So does Faith. I will become a partner-in-dorm-life very soon. The thought is slightly depressing. And then exciting. Will everyone get athlete’s foot? I can’t stand watching people spit after brushing their teeth. I can’t stand it. Will I have time to be completely by myself? I really want the whole piece of chocolate cake, but I must not eat the whole piece of chocolate cake. I am mad at myself. I am frustrated. I am confused. I am comforted. I am aware that there are much bigger things—really—even though I am not entirely convinced.
I have now determined that it’s not just teenagers whose minds are so incredibly convoluted. That’s giving us too much credit—or too much blameworthiness (I bet you didn’t know that blameworthiness was a word). Life doesn’t get clearer—or easier—when you get older. Actually, I have the sinking suspicion that it just gets foggier and a little steeper.
I have a debit card. I have too many accounts. Too many pins. Too many passwords and usernames. I am old. Ancient. Positively medieval. Alice in Wonderland looks like it’s going to be too weird for me.
That’s all. Actually, that last sentence was a lie. There is very much more trapped within my head. This is just a sampler.
Tiana is gone. Tiana lives in a dorm. So does Faith. I will become a partner-in-dorm-life very soon. The thought is slightly depressing. And then exciting. Will everyone get athlete’s foot? I can’t stand watching people spit after brushing their teeth. I can’t stand it. Will I have time to be completely by myself? I really want the whole piece of chocolate cake, but I must not eat the whole piece of chocolate cake. I am mad at myself. I am frustrated. I am confused. I am comforted. I am aware that there are much bigger things—really—even though I am not entirely convinced.
I have now determined that it’s not just teenagers whose minds are so incredibly convoluted. That’s giving us too much credit—or too much blameworthiness (I bet you didn’t know that blameworthiness was a word). Life doesn’t get clearer—or easier—when you get older. Actually, I have the sinking suspicion that it just gets foggier and a little steeper.
I have a debit card. I have too many accounts. Too many pins. Too many passwords and usernames. I am old. Ancient. Positively medieval. Alice in Wonderland looks like it’s going to be too weird for me.
That’s all. Actually, that last sentence was a lie. There is very much more trapped within my head. This is just a sampler.
Sunday, August 9, 2009
A Party and Sentimental Feelings
So yesterday I had my graduation/goodbye party. It was wonderful. My family worked very hard to make it so. Everything was arranged to perfection. There were bins for recycling, there were little twinkling lights, there were four extra tins of homemade enchiladas—visible proof of my family’s love for me. There was going to be a whole tray left of Ghirardelli brownies, but then my dog got to them. Now there is only half a tray of Ghirardelli brownies. But so is life…
Many of the people who I love and care for were there. And many of those who live far away sent beautiful letters (as my little sister requested so that she could create the sweetest scrapbook I’ve ever seen). I just want to express how blessed I feel. How very blessed I am. Thank you, God, for these people that you’ve given me—for these lives that You’ve intertwined with mine. Thank you.
Thank you, my spectacular friends. Thank you, my wonderful family. I love you.
The pieces are falling into place and in less than two and half weeks I’ll be headed to Grantham, Pennsylvania to try my hand at college life—ah! My blogs are about to get a whole lot more interesting…
Many of the people who I love and care for were there. And many of those who live far away sent beautiful letters (as my little sister requested so that she could create the sweetest scrapbook I’ve ever seen). I just want to express how blessed I feel. How very blessed I am. Thank you, God, for these people that you’ve given me—for these lives that You’ve intertwined with mine. Thank you.
Thank you, my spectacular friends. Thank you, my wonderful family. I love you.
The pieces are falling into place and in less than two and half weeks I’ll be headed to Grantham, Pennsylvania to try my hand at college life—ah! My blogs are about to get a whole lot more interesting…
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Something Hard, Something Unexpected, Something Wonderful
Alright…prepare yourselves for a blog of epic proportions. This past week has been the strangest, most wonderful, weirdest, most confused bunch of days in my life. I feel like it’s lasted a month or two. I’ve talked to quite a few people about it, but I still haven’t gotten all my thoughts out—so now I will write to you. Let me begin at the beginning.
Last Saturday (the 13th) Hannah and I got on a plane and flew to San Pedro Sula, Honduras for a mission trip. I have to admit that for the first day or two I really didn’t want to be there. It was tough to see the things we saw and do the thing we did; I was disgusted with myself for this selfish behavior and also for the way I doubted God.
Then, on Monday when we did our first day of vacation Bible school with the kids at the state orphanage, Nueva Esperanza, I really started to enjoy what we were doing. I began to truly love the kids. I began to love my team (including our translators and bus driver). On Tuesday we took our little bus up to a new orphanage/school and had lunch with the kids there before we began work on digging a ditch in the hard clay (I still have the blisters to prove how hard I worked. I had fun. Maybe I’ll forget about college and dig ditches for a living. Maybe.).
That night we--the team and the translators—about eighteen of us in all--slept in the mission house provided by the orphanage. At 4:30 in the morning a masked, armed man came into the room Hannah and I were sleeping in with five other girls. He was in the room for about a half an hour. He had us give him our money, and then he rummaged through our stuff. He molested a girl. When we had the chance to run, we took it and woke up the rest of the house (which had stayed asleep for the entire event). One of the translators actually caught the man and grappled with him, and as a result was shot in the toe.
The day was full to the brim with waiting. Waiting for everyone to pack up. Waiting for the police. Waiting at the hospital. Waiting at the police station. Waiting for lunch. Waiting to check back in to the hotel room. We waited with mixed feelings of sadness and happiness at the thought of being sent home three days early (they flew us all home Thursday instead of Saturday).
If it sounds like a rough day, that’s because it was (I’m not going to lie), but that doesn’t mean that God was missing from a single part of it or that we were miserable for all of it. Because He wasn’t and we weren’t. During the day, in the days following, and even now I’m still looking back and finding new evidences of God’s presence in the experience.
He blessed every single one of us with incredible strength and peace (even in the presence of our enemies). He gave all of us joy and laughter (and stupid jokes). He proved to me once and for all that I truly do trust Him fully and believe wholly in Him. He gave me seventeen new friends (a few of whom I now feel like I’ve known for years and wouldn’t give up their friendships for the world). He drew all of us nearer to Him. He gave us a powerful testimony so that we may continue the work that we started: saving souls. He even gave us hope that we might get to return and finish what we left so incomplete. (As an added plus, Steven Curtis Chapman and his wife were praying for us personally. I just thought that was kind of neat.)
There were so many other things that He did—so many things that could have gone wrong or been worse. As someone said in an email to the team: “God allowed it to happen, but with very clear boundaries. This far and no farther...just as the Lord holds back the oceans from crossing too far over the shore. Nothing happens to God's children without God's permission.” It’s very true. I can vouch for it because I saw it with my own eyes.
There’s a bit more to this strange week that I don’t feel like talking about just yet—but it’s a good thing, I promise. It has been a bizarre week. A weird and wonderful week—to say the least.
Anyways…that’s it. I’m no longer as young or as innocent as I once was. I’m no longer as blind. But I still have a lot of things to work through. I’m not emotionally scarred or anything, I’m just struggling with little things like selfishness and crankiness and a feeling of let-down-ness and what-to-do-next-ness. I came off the mountaintop and now I’m in the valley (but don’t let me deceive you, it’s not completely dark down here and there’s company—God works here just as he does up there).
As further proof of God’s goodness, He put it on my heart before we left to memorize Psalm 23. I did, and it was (and still is) a comfort to have it hidden in my heart. Before I write it out here for you to read, let me just say:
Don’t forget that Jesus has overcome the world. Don’t forget that in Him we are more than conquerors. Don’t forget that if we have Jesus, we have no reason for fear. Don’t forget that He is good. Don’t forget that He is strong. Don’t forget that He is completely willing and totally capable of rescuing and protecting those He loves. Don’t forget that He loves us. And don’t back down.
“The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not be in want. He makes me lie down in green pastures, He leads me beside quiet waters, He restores my soul. He guides me in paths of righteousness for His name’s sake. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”
Last Saturday (the 13th) Hannah and I got on a plane and flew to San Pedro Sula, Honduras for a mission trip. I have to admit that for the first day or two I really didn’t want to be there. It was tough to see the things we saw and do the thing we did; I was disgusted with myself for this selfish behavior and also for the way I doubted God.
Then, on Monday when we did our first day of vacation Bible school with the kids at the state orphanage, Nueva Esperanza, I really started to enjoy what we were doing. I began to truly love the kids. I began to love my team (including our translators and bus driver). On Tuesday we took our little bus up to a new orphanage/school and had lunch with the kids there before we began work on digging a ditch in the hard clay (I still have the blisters to prove how hard I worked. I had fun. Maybe I’ll forget about college and dig ditches for a living. Maybe.).
That night we--the team and the translators—about eighteen of us in all--slept in the mission house provided by the orphanage. At 4:30 in the morning a masked, armed man came into the room Hannah and I were sleeping in with five other girls. He was in the room for about a half an hour. He had us give him our money, and then he rummaged through our stuff. He molested a girl. When we had the chance to run, we took it and woke up the rest of the house (which had stayed asleep for the entire event). One of the translators actually caught the man and grappled with him, and as a result was shot in the toe.
The day was full to the brim with waiting. Waiting for everyone to pack up. Waiting for the police. Waiting at the hospital. Waiting at the police station. Waiting for lunch. Waiting to check back in to the hotel room. We waited with mixed feelings of sadness and happiness at the thought of being sent home three days early (they flew us all home Thursday instead of Saturday).
If it sounds like a rough day, that’s because it was (I’m not going to lie), but that doesn’t mean that God was missing from a single part of it or that we were miserable for all of it. Because He wasn’t and we weren’t. During the day, in the days following, and even now I’m still looking back and finding new evidences of God’s presence in the experience.
He blessed every single one of us with incredible strength and peace (even in the presence of our enemies). He gave all of us joy and laughter (and stupid jokes). He proved to me once and for all that I truly do trust Him fully and believe wholly in Him. He gave me seventeen new friends (a few of whom I now feel like I’ve known for years and wouldn’t give up their friendships for the world). He drew all of us nearer to Him. He gave us a powerful testimony so that we may continue the work that we started: saving souls. He even gave us hope that we might get to return and finish what we left so incomplete. (As an added plus, Steven Curtis Chapman and his wife were praying for us personally. I just thought that was kind of neat.)
There were so many other things that He did—so many things that could have gone wrong or been worse. As someone said in an email to the team: “God allowed it to happen, but with very clear boundaries. This far and no farther...just as the Lord holds back the oceans from crossing too far over the shore. Nothing happens to God's children without God's permission.” It’s very true. I can vouch for it because I saw it with my own eyes.
There’s a bit more to this strange week that I don’t feel like talking about just yet—but it’s a good thing, I promise. It has been a bizarre week. A weird and wonderful week—to say the least.
Anyways…that’s it. I’m no longer as young or as innocent as I once was. I’m no longer as blind. But I still have a lot of things to work through. I’m not emotionally scarred or anything, I’m just struggling with little things like selfishness and crankiness and a feeling of let-down-ness and what-to-do-next-ness. I came off the mountaintop and now I’m in the valley (but don’t let me deceive you, it’s not completely dark down here and there’s company—God works here just as he does up there).
As further proof of God’s goodness, He put it on my heart before we left to memorize Psalm 23. I did, and it was (and still is) a comfort to have it hidden in my heart. Before I write it out here for you to read, let me just say:
Don’t forget that Jesus has overcome the world. Don’t forget that in Him we are more than conquerors. Don’t forget that if we have Jesus, we have no reason for fear. Don’t forget that He is good. Don’t forget that He is strong. Don’t forget that He is completely willing and totally capable of rescuing and protecting those He loves. Don’t forget that He loves us. And don’t back down.
“The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not be in want. He makes me lie down in green pastures, He leads me beside quiet waters, He restores my soul. He guides me in paths of righteousness for His name’s sake. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
A Psalm
You are God and there is no other.
You are mightier than the oceans—
For you are their Master.
You blow on the waters and they surge and churn.
You are mightier than the storm—
For it is yours, the work of Your hands.
You stand in the thunder,
You surround yourself with the lightning,
The wind and the rain lash around You,
But You remain unmoved.
There is no place You have not seen.
You have viewed the deepest trench,
Smiled upon the farthest star,
Known the souls of men.
You have utterly known the souls of men,
And yet You love us.
You look on us with compassion and pity.
You look on us with strength and power
And are fully prepared to lift us from
The filth and decay that is in and around us.
You are holy;
We can never fully comprehend You,
And by this we find comfort.
I love You, LORD.
To You alone my praise is due.
I will sing of Your glory when I wake
And when I lie down,
When I walk and when I rest.
You are holy.
You are God and there is no other.
You are mightier than the oceans—
For you are their Master.
You blow on the waters and they surge and churn.
You are mightier than the storm—
For it is yours, the work of Your hands.
You stand in the thunder,
You surround yourself with the lightning,
The wind and the rain lash around You,
But You remain unmoved.
There is no place You have not seen.
You have viewed the deepest trench,
Smiled upon the farthest star,
Known the souls of men.
You have utterly known the souls of men,
And yet You love us.
You look on us with compassion and pity.
You look on us with strength and power
And are fully prepared to lift us from
The filth and decay that is in and around us.
You are holy;
We can never fully comprehend You,
And by this we find comfort.
I love You, LORD.
To You alone my praise is due.
I will sing of Your glory when I wake
And when I lie down,
When I walk and when I rest.
You are holy.
You are God and there is no other.
No, I Have Not Died
I don't consider this a real post, I just want to let you know that I haven't fallen off the face of the earth, or died, or lost the use of my fingers, or anything like that. What has happened is this: I've been writing a book for some time now and recently I've really started writing seriously. So now when I feel the urge to write I go straight to writing my story rather than begin blogging. I'm also trying to finish up highschool (two days left!--yikes), and I'm working a little bit at a swim shop, and I'm going to a lot of graduation parties, and I've taken up the violin in addition to piano, and I've become quite the exercise-aholic... Anyways... I'll start blogging again soon. I promise. Have a great night!
Saturday, March 21, 2009
A Challenge
Hello.
So, despite the fact that lately there are moments in my life when I feel like a little, fuzzy bumblebee buzzing here and there and everywhere (and back again), and disregarding those nights when I crash into bed either too tired to snore or too exhausted to sleep (yes, this does happen, unfortunately), I have decided that these next few months will most likely be the least frantic months of the rest of my life.
This thought tends to scare me.
Although I have been incredibly busy (to my way of thinking) for the past while, I have also realized that I really have a great amount of time to myself.
I have a confession. It’s something you probably could have figured out (being the incredibly bright people that you are), but just in case you haven’t come to this conclusion regarding my character, I’ll let you in on a secret.
I really enjoy down time. I like to sit in my bright room with the windows open and listen to the birds and read or write or journal or blog. Quaint, am I not? And recently, I’ve begun to realize that I should spend more of this time talking with, learning about, and contemplating on God. So I’ve tried to do so. As a result, something cool has happened.
God has begun to bless my efforts. Actually, He began to bless them the very first night I sat down and gave Him more time than I usually did. Generally, I like to do my quiet time in the morning, before I do school work or any of the other things on my list, because I want to give my day over to Him straight away. I’ve done this for a few years, but recently I have been getting upset that I haven’t been moving forward in my relationship, and I’ve been wondering how to change that.
A few weeks ago I had an epiphany.
I give my mornings to God, but to whom do I give my afternoons and my evenings?
To me, I give them to me.
As a result of this enlightening reflection, I decided to try and have two more “quiet times” in my day. So, now when I finish my homework and have nothing really pressing on my mind, urging me to get up and get accomplishing, I have a second, slightly more contemplative time with God. He’s really using this time. It’s pretty exciting.
Now I’m working on having some quiet time right before I go to bed. I’ve got a couple of instructive, inspiring books that I’m going through and so I’ll read a chapter or two and then pray. This helps me to focus on “what is true, noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent, and praiseworthy" (Philippians 4:8)--which is a nice way to fall asleep.
In conclusion, I’ve realized that this is the time in my life when I have very little to worry about (though it doesn’t seem so at times) other than my relationship with Jesus Christ. Next year, once I’m in college, this free time will disappear. I know that I will always make time for Him, but that time might never be as free from distraction and pressing cares as this time is now. I must take advantage of the time that I have been given. I must seize the day.
Right now is a gift with a purpose. This is my time to draw near to Christ. I would be a complete fool to let it slip away.
Many of you are in the same boat. This is God’s time. Give Him what is His due. Squelch the misconception that we own our time. Our time is God’s. If we draw near to Him, he has promised to draw near to us. It follows that the more we draw near to Him, the more He will draw near to us.
He's ready to take us higher, to bring us deeper, to move us farther. Let's not keep Him waiting.
So, despite the fact that lately there are moments in my life when I feel like a little, fuzzy bumblebee buzzing here and there and everywhere (and back again), and disregarding those nights when I crash into bed either too tired to snore or too exhausted to sleep (yes, this does happen, unfortunately), I have decided that these next few months will most likely be the least frantic months of the rest of my life.
This thought tends to scare me.
Although I have been incredibly busy (to my way of thinking) for the past while, I have also realized that I really have a great amount of time to myself.
I have a confession. It’s something you probably could have figured out (being the incredibly bright people that you are), but just in case you haven’t come to this conclusion regarding my character, I’ll let you in on a secret.
I really enjoy down time. I like to sit in my bright room with the windows open and listen to the birds and read or write or journal or blog. Quaint, am I not? And recently, I’ve begun to realize that I should spend more of this time talking with, learning about, and contemplating on God. So I’ve tried to do so. As a result, something cool has happened.
God has begun to bless my efforts. Actually, He began to bless them the very first night I sat down and gave Him more time than I usually did. Generally, I like to do my quiet time in the morning, before I do school work or any of the other things on my list, because I want to give my day over to Him straight away. I’ve done this for a few years, but recently I have been getting upset that I haven’t been moving forward in my relationship, and I’ve been wondering how to change that.
A few weeks ago I had an epiphany.
I give my mornings to God, but to whom do I give my afternoons and my evenings?
To me, I give them to me.
As a result of this enlightening reflection, I decided to try and have two more “quiet times” in my day. So, now when I finish my homework and have nothing really pressing on my mind, urging me to get up and get accomplishing, I have a second, slightly more contemplative time with God. He’s really using this time. It’s pretty exciting.
Now I’m working on having some quiet time right before I go to bed. I’ve got a couple of instructive, inspiring books that I’m going through and so I’ll read a chapter or two and then pray. This helps me to focus on “what is true, noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent, and praiseworthy" (Philippians 4:8)--which is a nice way to fall asleep.
In conclusion, I’ve realized that this is the time in my life when I have very little to worry about (though it doesn’t seem so at times) other than my relationship with Jesus Christ. Next year, once I’m in college, this free time will disappear. I know that I will always make time for Him, but that time might never be as free from distraction and pressing cares as this time is now. I must take advantage of the time that I have been given. I must seize the day.
Right now is a gift with a purpose. This is my time to draw near to Christ. I would be a complete fool to let it slip away.
Many of you are in the same boat. This is God’s time. Give Him what is His due. Squelch the misconception that we own our time. Our time is God’s. If we draw near to Him, he has promised to draw near to us. It follows that the more we draw near to Him, the more He will draw near to us.
He's ready to take us higher, to bring us deeper, to move us farther. Let's not keep Him waiting.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Unity and Significance (and Steve Martin's Brother)
I went to Bible study the other night with very little expectations. I must admit that I haven't been getting a lot out of anything I do with my youth group lately (something, I realize, may be partly my fault). It’s kind of sad—but that’s not what I sat down to talk about.
So, at my study we’re going through The Truth Project, which is a series of videos basically asking us (Christians everywhere) to examine what we believe and determine why we believe it. This particular video was on the relationship between God and Man. It was all about oneness, intimate fellowship, and the mysterious union of the trinity and the church, and Christ and His children. I got a few things out of this video, but the thing that stuck with me the most was this:
The speaker (who looks like Steve Martin’s brother—this has absolutely nothing to do with what I was saying…) leaned close into the camera and asked with great solemnity (something he does quite well, unlike Steve Martin),
“What keeps us from unity?”
This is a rather heavy question, but its weightiness might be overlooked if the term unity isn’t further expounded on. Here’s what Jesus has to say about this word:
“…That all of them may be one, Father, just as You are in Me and I am in You. May they also be in Us so that the world may believe that You have sent Me. I have given them the glory that You gave Me, that they may be one as We are one: I in them and You in Me. May they be brought to complete unity to let the world know that you sent Me and have loved them even as You have loved Me.” John 17:21-23 (This whole chapter is an awesome one—just in case you’ve never read it before.)
Did you catch the astounding marvelous-ness of His meaning?
We’ve essentially been given a spot in the Trinity.
Now, I don’t mean that we’re gods or anything like that, but we’re invited into Him and He will be in us. This is what God desires, this is why Jesus came, this is what the Holy Spirit has accomplished.
Alright, now that we’ve got that down (if that can ever be “gotten down”), let me tell you how Mr. Martin answered his question of why we’re not taking full advantage of this mind-blowing-ly incredible gift of oneness with God. (I was on the edge of my seat for this one, because I’ve been wondering a great deal lately why there is such a gulf between me and Christ.)
He said,
“Our hunger to be significant keeps us from unity with God.”
Wow.
This significance thing has definitely been a huge part of my life for a long long while. And I know that it’s been a problem, but I just didn’t know how big.
I want to have people love me. I long for it. And when I’m not loved to a point that satisfies this craving, I’ll imagine it into being. Let me know if I’m wrong, but I think a lot of girls struggle with this problem, better known as day-dreaming.
Mr. Martin says that we were given this desire for significance, just as we were given a sexual desire. It is good when used as God intended it, but evil after being twisted by the world.
How do we turn this hunger into something God can be pleased with?
We must turn to Him, and allow ourselves to be fully satisfied with being significant to Him. Because, really, not being satisfied with our importance to God, and looking to quench our thirst elsewhere, isn’t only futile and idiotic, it’s so incredibly disrespectful and hateful to Christ.
Augh, so I know that this isn’t something that can be solved in a day, but the sooner resolved the better. We can comfort ourselves by knowing that this desire of ours (to comprehend and to take part in unity with Christ) is God’s desire as well. And with the two of us working together (and His strength being made perfect in our weakness), the odds for victory are pretty good.
So, at my study we’re going through The Truth Project, which is a series of videos basically asking us (Christians everywhere) to examine what we believe and determine why we believe it. This particular video was on the relationship between God and Man. It was all about oneness, intimate fellowship, and the mysterious union of the trinity and the church, and Christ and His children. I got a few things out of this video, but the thing that stuck with me the most was this:
The speaker (who looks like Steve Martin’s brother—this has absolutely nothing to do with what I was saying…) leaned close into the camera and asked with great solemnity (something he does quite well, unlike Steve Martin),
“What keeps us from unity?”
This is a rather heavy question, but its weightiness might be overlooked if the term unity isn’t further expounded on. Here’s what Jesus has to say about this word:
“…That all of them may be one, Father, just as You are in Me and I am in You. May they also be in Us so that the world may believe that You have sent Me. I have given them the glory that You gave Me, that they may be one as We are one: I in them and You in Me. May they be brought to complete unity to let the world know that you sent Me and have loved them even as You have loved Me.” John 17:21-23 (This whole chapter is an awesome one—just in case you’ve never read it before.)
Did you catch the astounding marvelous-ness of His meaning?
We’ve essentially been given a spot in the Trinity.
Now, I don’t mean that we’re gods or anything like that, but we’re invited into Him and He will be in us. This is what God desires, this is why Jesus came, this is what the Holy Spirit has accomplished.
Alright, now that we’ve got that down (if that can ever be “gotten down”), let me tell you how Mr. Martin answered his question of why we’re not taking full advantage of this mind-blowing-ly incredible gift of oneness with God. (I was on the edge of my seat for this one, because I’ve been wondering a great deal lately why there is such a gulf between me and Christ.)
He said,
“Our hunger to be significant keeps us from unity with God.”
Wow.
This significance thing has definitely been a huge part of my life for a long long while. And I know that it’s been a problem, but I just didn’t know how big.
I want to have people love me. I long for it. And when I’m not loved to a point that satisfies this craving, I’ll imagine it into being. Let me know if I’m wrong, but I think a lot of girls struggle with this problem, better known as day-dreaming.
Mr. Martin says that we were given this desire for significance, just as we were given a sexual desire. It is good when used as God intended it, but evil after being twisted by the world.
How do we turn this hunger into something God can be pleased with?
We must turn to Him, and allow ourselves to be fully satisfied with being significant to Him. Because, really, not being satisfied with our importance to God, and looking to quench our thirst elsewhere, isn’t only futile and idiotic, it’s so incredibly disrespectful and hateful to Christ.
Augh, so I know that this isn’t something that can be solved in a day, but the sooner resolved the better. We can comfort ourselves by knowing that this desire of ours (to comprehend and to take part in unity with Christ) is God’s desire as well. And with the two of us working together (and His strength being made perfect in our weakness), the odds for victory are pretty good.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
King Lear; The Good, The Bad, and the Hilarious
Well, I think it’s time to introduce you all to the glamorous and slightly insane world of a Shakespearean director.
Okay, I lie.
It’s insanely mental, but not at all glamorous.
Here is a little peep-hole view of the strange and colorful world of thespians and the relationship between the directors and the directed.
Hayley: …And they couldn’t get the pool balls out of their mouths, so they had to go to the hospital and have their jaws dislocated.
Kent: I saw this guy put an eight ball in his mouth and--Huwegh! Swallow it--and then (da da da daa) regurgitate it!
King Lear: Howl, howl—I don’t have to howl four times, right? Look, look a mouse!
Hayley: Albany, you’re a frustrated duke, not a flustered housewife.
Hayley: Can you say that line with more…um, can you say it less, eh, hum…can you (waves hands vaguely)…you know…
Other director: Trail behind—
Hayley: Walk in front—
Other director: More sorrow.
Hayley: Laugh.
Other director: Step forward.
Hayley: Step back.
Hayley: Where’s Gloucester? And Cornwall. And Regan. And Goneril. And Albany.—Albany’s at home you say? Well, then, somebody call him up and ask him why he’s not here.
King Lear: Hi Albany, what were you planning on doing this afternoon? (Pause) Science fair project? (Glances nervously over at steaming director) Well—
Hayley: Tell him to come over now and I’ll help him finish his science project when we’re done. (Hayley grimaces. This is the ultimate sacrifice, as she hates science projects more than words can express.)
Hayley: So you’ll want to weave in front of Cordelia and behind Kent, over Lear and under Regan, twirl around Goneril all the while looking cynical, then step twice to the left and side step Cornwall (now you're jesting, but afraid. Terrified, yet jovial), jump forward twice and barely miss knocking into Gentleman number one, who you must give time to slip you a note, before you exit upstage left. Got that?
Here are some things I have learned:
1. Give a boy a sword and we’ll wander off the point, never to be recalled again.
2. A dead person is distracting.
3. Arguments happen, and when they do they must be speedily resolved with prayer. Otherwise you’re sunk.
4. When two people die in close proximity to one another it’s very difficult to keep it all from looking awkward.
5. A director with giggles is about as helpful as a toothbrush with no bristles.
6. The words director and perfectionist can never go in the same sentence.
7. It’s very sad when you decide you want to act, and wear a pretty dress, but know that you’ll end up backstage in black.
8. You must somehow go with the flow, all the while keeping a grip on the rudder.
9. Shakespeare talks too much.
10. It’s different, but not disagreeable, to shine through other people.
Anyways, I'm having a good time for the most part, and content with knowing I'm building character for the rest. We still need lots of prayer, so if you thought of it and you felt like shooting a quick one to God, it would be much appreciated. I desire this play to be all for His glory--gory deaths, drawn-out, slightly boring monologues, and all.
Okay, I lie.
It’s insanely mental, but not at all glamorous.
Here is a little peep-hole view of the strange and colorful world of thespians and the relationship between the directors and the directed.
Hayley: …And they couldn’t get the pool balls out of their mouths, so they had to go to the hospital and have their jaws dislocated.
Kent: I saw this guy put an eight ball in his mouth and--Huwegh! Swallow it--and then (da da da daa) regurgitate it!
King Lear: Howl, howl—I don’t have to howl four times, right? Look, look a mouse!
Hayley: Albany, you’re a frustrated duke, not a flustered housewife.
Hayley: Can you say that line with more…um, can you say it less, eh, hum…can you (waves hands vaguely)…you know…
Other director: Trail behind—
Hayley: Walk in front—
Other director: More sorrow.
Hayley: Laugh.
Other director: Step forward.
Hayley: Step back.
Hayley: Where’s Gloucester? And Cornwall. And Regan. And Goneril. And Albany.—Albany’s at home you say? Well, then, somebody call him up and ask him why he’s not here.
King Lear: Hi Albany, what were you planning on doing this afternoon? (Pause) Science fair project? (Glances nervously over at steaming director) Well—
Hayley: Tell him to come over now and I’ll help him finish his science project when we’re done. (Hayley grimaces. This is the ultimate sacrifice, as she hates science projects more than words can express.)
Hayley: So you’ll want to weave in front of Cordelia and behind Kent, over Lear and under Regan, twirl around Goneril all the while looking cynical, then step twice to the left and side step Cornwall (now you're jesting, but afraid. Terrified, yet jovial), jump forward twice and barely miss knocking into Gentleman number one, who you must give time to slip you a note, before you exit upstage left. Got that?
Here are some things I have learned:
1. Give a boy a sword and we’ll wander off the point, never to be recalled again.
2. A dead person is distracting.
3. Arguments happen, and when they do they must be speedily resolved with prayer. Otherwise you’re sunk.
4. When two people die in close proximity to one another it’s very difficult to keep it all from looking awkward.
5. A director with giggles is about as helpful as a toothbrush with no bristles.
6. The words director and perfectionist can never go in the same sentence.
7. It’s very sad when you decide you want to act, and wear a pretty dress, but know that you’ll end up backstage in black.
8. You must somehow go with the flow, all the while keeping a grip on the rudder.
9. Shakespeare talks too much.
10. It’s different, but not disagreeable, to shine through other people.
Anyways, I'm having a good time for the most part, and content with knowing I'm building character for the rest. We still need lots of prayer, so if you thought of it and you felt like shooting a quick one to God, it would be much appreciated. I desire this play to be all for His glory--gory deaths, drawn-out, slightly boring monologues, and all.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Numa Numa and The Screwtape Letters
I have the Numa Numa song stuck in my head. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, go to youtube and type in the words 'Numa Numa'.
Then you will know the song.
Unfortunately, my having this song stuck in my head is not a good thing for the rest of you. It's rather an odd song and tends to turn my brain to mush.
Wow, lots of things have been going on lately, which is the reason there haven't been many blogs of late. Which is sad. I would like to thank those people that enjoy reading my blogs by writing more blogs, not less.
Since my last blog (wow, I've said the word 'blog' a lot, sorry.) I’ve been to visit Messiah and Whitworth (in PA and WA respectively) and still don’t know where I’m going. Sigh. God, if you could just paint a big red X on the college you want me to go to, I’d be much obliged. I’ve also been procrastinating about my science project and am now reaping the consequences. King Lear, that long-winded old man, is coming along, but I just may go crazy before we actually get it on stage. “Go after her, she’s desperate.” -------Duke of Albany
And then my birthday is coming up, and I, Hayley Huber, will be eighteen.
Here’s a list of famous people and the things they did when they were eighteen.
Cleopatra was the Queen of Egypt.
George Washington was surveyor of Culpepper County.
Elisha Wood began his role as Frodo in The Lord of the Rings.
Mozart was employed as the court musician by the Prince of Salzburg.
Hmm. I wonder if there are any kingdoms open? Any eligible princes.
Also, God has been revealing Himself to me through Screwtape, from The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis. I aspire to be like Lewis. He not only understood human nature, he understood how to write about it so that others could understand it. While I read, I’m constantly saying, “Hey! That’s exactly how I feel/think/act, but I thought I was the only one who felt/thought/acted that way. Weird. But nice. I’m not as mental as I thought I was.” And more than understanding and depicting human thought and emotion, Lewis understood God to a strong degree. He was able to use his amazing writing prowess to convey this knowledge to those who haven’t yet climbed as far up the godly ladder as he has.
Darn it. I’ve been asked twice in the past two weeks who my heroes are (for college interviews) and I couldn’t for the life of me come up with and answer (well, I did eventually, but only after much perspiring). C.S. Lewis! Duh!
Anyways, I encourage you all to read The Screwtape Letters. It’s a really short read, but it’s really good. And now I must leave you, because my eyes are being fried by the screen.
Then you will know the song.
Unfortunately, my having this song stuck in my head is not a good thing for the rest of you. It's rather an odd song and tends to turn my brain to mush.
Wow, lots of things have been going on lately, which is the reason there haven't been many blogs of late. Which is sad. I would like to thank those people that enjoy reading my blogs by writing more blogs, not less.
Since my last blog (wow, I've said the word 'blog' a lot, sorry.) I’ve been to visit Messiah and Whitworth (in PA and WA respectively) and still don’t know where I’m going. Sigh. God, if you could just paint a big red X on the college you want me to go to, I’d be much obliged. I’ve also been procrastinating about my science project and am now reaping the consequences. King Lear, that long-winded old man, is coming along, but I just may go crazy before we actually get it on stage. “Go after her, she’s desperate.” -------Duke of Albany
And then my birthday is coming up, and I, Hayley Huber, will be eighteen.
Here’s a list of famous people and the things they did when they were eighteen.
Cleopatra was the Queen of Egypt.
George Washington was surveyor of Culpepper County.
Elisha Wood began his role as Frodo in The Lord of the Rings.
Mozart was employed as the court musician by the Prince of Salzburg.
Hmm. I wonder if there are any kingdoms open? Any eligible princes.
Also, God has been revealing Himself to me through Screwtape, from The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis. I aspire to be like Lewis. He not only understood human nature, he understood how to write about it so that others could understand it. While I read, I’m constantly saying, “Hey! That’s exactly how I feel/think/act, but I thought I was the only one who felt/thought/acted that way. Weird. But nice. I’m not as mental as I thought I was.” And more than understanding and depicting human thought and emotion, Lewis understood God to a strong degree. He was able to use his amazing writing prowess to convey this knowledge to those who haven’t yet climbed as far up the godly ladder as he has.
Darn it. I’ve been asked twice in the past two weeks who my heroes are (for college interviews) and I couldn’t for the life of me come up with and answer (well, I did eventually, but only after much perspiring). C.S. Lewis! Duh!
Anyways, I encourage you all to read The Screwtape Letters. It’s a really short read, but it’s really good. And now I must leave you, because my eyes are being fried by the screen.
Friday, January 2, 2009
A Tribute
I just wanted to take a moment and write a tribute to a topic (subject, theme, idea) near and dear to my heart.
Friends.
I like them.
They’re one of God’s neatest inventions and He has recently been blessing me with an amazing bunch of them.
Some of them are braver than me, and they challenge me and encourage me to step out and be bold in my faith or in other areas of my life. Some of them are at my level and we can work together, encouraging one another because we totally and completely understand what the other is going through. Some of them I can help. Some of them are nuts and when we part company my stomach muscles hurt from laughing and my cheeks from smiling. Some of them are like me and it’s really exciting to discover the crazy ways in which we’re similar. Some of them aren’t at all like me and discerning what makes them tick is awfully exciting. Some of them are “cluster friends” and I meet with them in groups. Some of them are my “loner friends” and we hang out by ourselves. Some of them are constantly introducing me to new friends. Some of them make me think. Some of them give me a welcome break from thinking. Some of them are my age. Some of them are not. Some share my beliefs while others have worldviews that don’t align with mine (teaching me it’s possible to love those I don’t agree with).
All of them are a gift from God. All of them were put in my life for a reason. All of them have blessed me. And I wanted to thank you all. Thanks. I love you guys!
Friends.
I like them.
They’re one of God’s neatest inventions and He has recently been blessing me with an amazing bunch of them.
Some of them are braver than me, and they challenge me and encourage me to step out and be bold in my faith or in other areas of my life. Some of them are at my level and we can work together, encouraging one another because we totally and completely understand what the other is going through. Some of them I can help. Some of them are nuts and when we part company my stomach muscles hurt from laughing and my cheeks from smiling. Some of them are like me and it’s really exciting to discover the crazy ways in which we’re similar. Some of them aren’t at all like me and discerning what makes them tick is awfully exciting. Some of them are “cluster friends” and I meet with them in groups. Some of them are my “loner friends” and we hang out by ourselves. Some of them are constantly introducing me to new friends. Some of them make me think. Some of them give me a welcome break from thinking. Some of them are my age. Some of them are not. Some share my beliefs while others have worldviews that don’t align with mine (teaching me it’s possible to love those I don’t agree with).
All of them are a gift from God. All of them were put in my life for a reason. All of them have blessed me. And I wanted to thank you all. Thanks. I love you guys!
Saturday, December 27, 2008
The Thought of a Divided Heart
I have a thought which has been lying smoldering in my mind for at least a decade and which flares up now and again. This blaze sprung from the book of Malachi (and from the dark recesses of my sadly convoluted little mind). In summary, it is this: I do not want to be a lukewarm Christian.
Lately, I have begun to really realize the extent to which I am my greatest enemy. I always knew it, but it’s become more obvious these last couple of months. I feel kind of like I’ve got two opposing personalities (Gollum, anyone?). One part of me desires to desire to be passionate about God (no, that is not a typo). And the other part just doesn’t care. Or does care, but not enough. Actually, both sides don’t care enough. It’s very frustrating. One side of me wants to stand up to these sins that keep hindering me and blocking my path to God, and the other side is convinced that I will have more fun with my sins than with Christ. This side tends to think that serving Christ will be a burden—a thought which disconcerts my other side. One side is convinced I will never be brave enough, never be strong enough, never love God enough, never be the friend I want to be to Christ—and the other side is making an effort to disbelieve these convictions.
Here is what God, my Jesus has to say to me and to anyone else who may be struggling along these lines.
“Return to Me and I will return to you.” Malachi 3:7
“‘Bring the whole tithe into the storehouse, that there may be food in my house. Test me in this’ says the Lord Almighty, ‘and see if I will not throw open the floodgates of heaven and pour out so much blessing that you will not have room enough for it.’” Malachi 3:10
If we give Him what is His due (what He deserves to receive whether we want to give it to Him or not) He has promised bless us with such awesome power and goodness. “Throw open the floodgates of heaven…pour out so much blessing that you will not have room for it.” I love it.
So, this is for all you who are going through this trying time of lukewarmness. Let’s work, strive, pray to be lifted up out of it. “[We] can do all things through Christ who strengthens us.” Philippians 4:13.
Lately, I have begun to really realize the extent to which I am my greatest enemy. I always knew it, but it’s become more obvious these last couple of months. I feel kind of like I’ve got two opposing personalities (Gollum, anyone?). One part of me desires to desire to be passionate about God (no, that is not a typo). And the other part just doesn’t care. Or does care, but not enough. Actually, both sides don’t care enough. It’s very frustrating. One side of me wants to stand up to these sins that keep hindering me and blocking my path to God, and the other side is convinced that I will have more fun with my sins than with Christ. This side tends to think that serving Christ will be a burden—a thought which disconcerts my other side. One side is convinced I will never be brave enough, never be strong enough, never love God enough, never be the friend I want to be to Christ—and the other side is making an effort to disbelieve these convictions.
Here is what God, my Jesus has to say to me and to anyone else who may be struggling along these lines.
“Return to Me and I will return to you.” Malachi 3:7
“‘Bring the whole tithe into the storehouse, that there may be food in my house. Test me in this’ says the Lord Almighty, ‘and see if I will not throw open the floodgates of heaven and pour out so much blessing that you will not have room enough for it.’” Malachi 3:10
If we give Him what is His due (what He deserves to receive whether we want to give it to Him or not) He has promised bless us with such awesome power and goodness. “Throw open the floodgates of heaven…pour out so much blessing that you will not have room for it.” I love it.
So, this is for all you who are going through this trying time of lukewarmness. Let’s work, strive, pray to be lifted up out of it. “[We] can do all things through Christ who strengthens us.” Philippians 4:13.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
A Soliloquy; Read and Be Amazed.
Can you spell mahogany?
Yes, but only with spell-check. Without spell-check, I would be nothing. I would be lost and doomed to stumble blindly about in a world of swirling mist. And if I stumbled about in a world of swirling mist I would be unable to see. Unable to find things. Which would tend to upset my delicate mental balance. I already can’t balance. It’s a shame, but it’s the truth. Maybe this is why I am afraid of heights? I also can’t open things—except for jars; I can open jars commendably using merely a combination of those sticky, grippy, jar-opening things and my God-given brawn. And perforated edges. I have a love-hate relationship with perforated edges. Who, I wonder, invented perforated edges? Who invented the word perforated? Noah Webster? Or is it Daniel Webster? One’s an orator and the other the dictionary-maker but I can’t for the life of me remember who’s who. Which is better, words or music? Words encompass everything, but music is so other-worldly. This question has been tormenting me for quite some time. This is the second biggest philosophical question of my life. I think it’s kind of neat how God has wired us to want to know. It shows how we’re made in His image. He knows. We yearn to know. There’s a parallel there. Parallels are pretty fabulous things. Like King Lear and Gloucester (pronounced gloss-ter, it has recently been determined. Actually, I’m not sure if it hasn’t been determined erroneously. Maybe it’s glouce, like louse. Hmm.). Being a director is tough. I feel bossy. When I was in elementary school, being bossy was like the worst possible sin you could commit. Where do these random memories come from? Why do certain smells trigger certain memories? My soap that I have now reminds me of the Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe. I couldn’t tell you why. Why does sugar taste good and algae taste bad? Algae has much less fat-potential. Why do my thoughts take so many strange digressions? Or is digression the correct word? Digression seems to have a negative connotation. The word connotation brings to mind Mr. Collins. Why have I not accomplished something with my day. Oh, dear, I forgot, my fish (Selkie) is in a temporary home waiting for the water to turn room temperature. He’s probably uncomfortable. I feel bad. I’ve got things to do, so I’ll stop now.
Yes, but only with spell-check. Without spell-check, I would be nothing. I would be lost and doomed to stumble blindly about in a world of swirling mist. And if I stumbled about in a world of swirling mist I would be unable to see. Unable to find things. Which would tend to upset my delicate mental balance. I already can’t balance. It’s a shame, but it’s the truth. Maybe this is why I am afraid of heights? I also can’t open things—except for jars; I can open jars commendably using merely a combination of those sticky, grippy, jar-opening things and my God-given brawn. And perforated edges. I have a love-hate relationship with perforated edges. Who, I wonder, invented perforated edges? Who invented the word perforated? Noah Webster? Or is it Daniel Webster? One’s an orator and the other the dictionary-maker but I can’t for the life of me remember who’s who. Which is better, words or music? Words encompass everything, but music is so other-worldly. This question has been tormenting me for quite some time. This is the second biggest philosophical question of my life. I think it’s kind of neat how God has wired us to want to know. It shows how we’re made in His image. He knows. We yearn to know. There’s a parallel there. Parallels are pretty fabulous things. Like King Lear and Gloucester (pronounced gloss-ter, it has recently been determined. Actually, I’m not sure if it hasn’t been determined erroneously. Maybe it’s glouce, like louse. Hmm.). Being a director is tough. I feel bossy. When I was in elementary school, being bossy was like the worst possible sin you could commit. Where do these random memories come from? Why do certain smells trigger certain memories? My soap that I have now reminds me of the Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe. I couldn’t tell you why. Why does sugar taste good and algae taste bad? Algae has much less fat-potential. Why do my thoughts take so many strange digressions? Or is digression the correct word? Digression seems to have a negative connotation. The word connotation brings to mind Mr. Collins. Why have I not accomplished something with my day. Oh, dear, I forgot, my fish (Selkie) is in a temporary home waiting for the water to turn room temperature. He’s probably uncomfortable. I feel bad. I’ve got things to do, so I’ll stop now.
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Heart-Throbs of the Mortal and The Immortal
I have thirty-five minutes to write before I have to teach a piano lesson, so, here we go…
Okay, boys (if there are any boys reading this), just as a heads-up, the context of the following paragraph may be highly feminine. I have no idea how the male mind works and if it has the same sort of thought digressions as the female mind, but even if it doesn’t (and you end up without a clue as to what I'm talking about) there will something for you to get out of this post, so hang in there. Now that I’ve disconcerted you all, I’ll begin.
Well, last night—actually, we must go back before that—About two weeks ago I became re-obsessed with a movie that I love. While watching this movie (and it’s sequel and it’s sequel’s sequel) a certain someone stirred the sleeping butterflies in my stomach. Last night I was watching as many videos of this certain someone as I could find on youtube, and, sigh, I fell head-over-heels in love. (Does this sort of thing happen to males? Or is it just the unfortunate females that have to deal with these ridiculous crushes? I really want to know.)
It is very upsetting for me when I fall for someone who doesn’t know I exist, wouldn’t care if he did (know I existed), doesn’t share my same morals, and is full of himself. Why, you ask, am I giving this person the time of the day? Good question. But anyways, I was talking to God last night—
Let me insert something here. Over the past few months I completely forgot that I can talk to God. Sure I pray to Him often, but I haven’t been talking to Him, and our relationship has been suffering because of it. I don’t have to ask, or thank, or praise God every time I open my mouth to pray to Him, I can just tell Him how I’m feeling, what I’m thinking, or wait for Him to talk back to me. I rediscovered this method of communication last night, and I am very excited. I’m now chewing His ear off. Anyways, back to the main point—
(I was talking to God last night) and I was telling Him about this love that I had and how it was making my heart hurt and how I felt idiotic for being in “love” (I realize now, in the revealing, confusion-clearing light of day, that it wasn’t love but idolization.). Goodness, but it really does hurt, doesn’t it? Weird. It sound's laughable now, but it wasn't during the time... So I was telling Him all this, and, instead of laughing at me, He talked back.
“Hayley,” He said, “I know how you feel. I love [--this certain someone--] in the same way you do. [--This certain someone--] doesn’t believe I exist. He doesn’t care I exist. His morals are in stark contrast to mine and his sins separate us. However, unlike you, Hayley, I created this young man. I died for this young man. I planned out each day of his illustrious life.
I love him far more than you love him.
But he does not love Me.
And My heart hurts as well.”
My movie-star isn’t the only one guilty of causing God this pain.
Augh.
Love God. Love movie-stars, but don’t love them in that way--love them with a Christ-like love.
(Hopefully I didn’t totally loose all you males. Sorry if I did.)
The end.
Okay, boys (if there are any boys reading this), just as a heads-up, the context of the following paragraph may be highly feminine. I have no idea how the male mind works and if it has the same sort of thought digressions as the female mind, but even if it doesn’t (and you end up without a clue as to what I'm talking about) there will something for you to get out of this post, so hang in there. Now that I’ve disconcerted you all, I’ll begin.
Well, last night—actually, we must go back before that—About two weeks ago I became re-obsessed with a movie that I love. While watching this movie (and it’s sequel and it’s sequel’s sequel) a certain someone stirred the sleeping butterflies in my stomach. Last night I was watching as many videos of this certain someone as I could find on youtube, and, sigh, I fell head-over-heels in love. (Does this sort of thing happen to males? Or is it just the unfortunate females that have to deal with these ridiculous crushes? I really want to know.)
It is very upsetting for me when I fall for someone who doesn’t know I exist, wouldn’t care if he did (know I existed), doesn’t share my same morals, and is full of himself. Why, you ask, am I giving this person the time of the day? Good question. But anyways, I was talking to God last night—
Let me insert something here. Over the past few months I completely forgot that I can talk to God. Sure I pray to Him often, but I haven’t been talking to Him, and our relationship has been suffering because of it. I don’t have to ask, or thank, or praise God every time I open my mouth to pray to Him, I can just tell Him how I’m feeling, what I’m thinking, or wait for Him to talk back to me. I rediscovered this method of communication last night, and I am very excited. I’m now chewing His ear off. Anyways, back to the main point—
(I was talking to God last night) and I was telling Him about this love that I had and how it was making my heart hurt and how I felt idiotic for being in “love” (I realize now, in the revealing, confusion-clearing light of day, that it wasn’t love but idolization.). Goodness, but it really does hurt, doesn’t it? Weird. It sound's laughable now, but it wasn't during the time... So I was telling Him all this, and, instead of laughing at me, He talked back.
“Hayley,” He said, “I know how you feel. I love [--this certain someone--] in the same way you do. [--This certain someone--] doesn’t believe I exist. He doesn’t care I exist. His morals are in stark contrast to mine and his sins separate us. However, unlike you, Hayley, I created this young man. I died for this young man. I planned out each day of his illustrious life.
I love him far more than you love him.
But he does not love Me.
And My heart hurts as well.”
My movie-star isn’t the only one guilty of causing God this pain.
Augh.
Love God. Love movie-stars, but don’t love them in that way--love them with a Christ-like love.
(Hopefully I didn’t totally loose all you males. Sorry if I did.)
The end.
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