If you love me:

Send me threatening, encouraging texts to make me do my homework so I can get a full ride to some fancy college so I can become a pediatrician and save lives and whatnot.  Please?

Could you even imagine?

having to deal with the emotional pain of having an abortion?
or
having to deal with a group of "christians" wearing shirts that broadcast you as a murderer?

I'm 100% positive Jesus would NOT have kicked them when they were down.

World Spin Madly On.

Well, it happened.

Not at all what I was expecting, but it's disappointing just the same.

Where are you Summer?

I've been thinking about it a lot lately and I'm stoked.

Last summer consisted of sitting and waiting for the inevitable.

It consisted of watching a body wither away, and this summer won't be that way.

I won't spend my summer nights crying and waiting and praying.

I'll spend them laughing and swimming and tanning. 

I'm excited for all the different parts of summer, whether it be CIY, Georgia, or even Wild Waves.  Summer, come soon.

-Check out Courtney G's blog about summer!
http://www.courtneyg-aringer.blogspot.com/
She inspired this post, cause's she's super cool.

Summit 2011

I'm fully recovered from my sleep deprivation, but my mind is still frantically searching to pull all the different lessons and ah-ha moments of the weekend together.  So beware that this post won't make much sense, if any at all.  One major downfall to the weekend was the juggling act of different guys; from my flirty remark to that one guy after drama to smiling at another and to getting into conversations with yet another that should have and could have waited 'til a much later date, I've learned that I'm oh-so not ready for anything.  I'm not ready to like someone and make it known.  I'm not ready to plan my future, nor should I be doing so.  I'm not ready to even consider liking a guy, because plain and simple, I'm just not ready.  It was an ah-ha moment and a good one.  My time is better spent chilling with God than thinking about some you.  His conversations are worth far more than mine and yours.  And that's not directed at one person, it's directed at the lot of 'em.  I went into my guy fast selfishly; to prepare my heart for marriage, yadda, yadda, yadda, and whatnot.  A number of things have made me realize that attitude just won't do.  The point of the guy fast, which is to be renamed, was to fall in love with the One who breathed life into me and showed me what it was to love.  He's the only one I need.  Yeah, I don't know if He has a beard, and He cannot physically be here holding my hand, but He's wonderful just the same.  He's holding my heart, if it's any consolation.  I guess I learned a lot this weekend and this is just one of the things that rocked my world.  It was one incredible weekend.

Please, please, please.

Just don't make me relive August.

"it's not like you....." care.

I'm patiently waiting on that changed relationship status, which will give that one guy that one quality that will remove him from my cat's meow list

and it sucks.

Goodbye animal in the road. 

It's about time I stop doting upon you.

10 Reasons Not

1. You're a chauvinist, I'm a feminist.
2. We're both far too stubborn and we'll always disagree.
3. You listen.  Like actually listen.  It's a foreign concept.
4. Different ends of the world doesn't work for me.
5. _
6. _
7. It'd be drama.
8. _
9. _
10. I don't deserve you.

Made to love.

"Just don't give up trying to do what you really want to do. Where there is love and inspiration, I don't think you can go wrong."

A few days ago, I was talking to a mentor in my life about my hatred for P.E.  In all reality, my P.E. class  has every single stereotype you would find in a high school.  I've never seen myself as a stereotype, but as one to defy them.  I was the girl who wore all black one day and a frilly pink skirt the next.  I was the a smart cheerleader.  I was the girl most people expected to get pregnant before high school, because every piece of my family is broken.  I enjoy defying stereotyp,es but since being in that class, I've realized I'm one I never wanted to be; the hypocritical Christian.  Jesus hung out with the people I've been avoiding since I strived to make new friends in middle school and advance to the honors classes.  I don't see "those other kids" unless I'm walking through the halls or taking an elective that requires me to put up with them.  When I told my mentor how my heart broke for these students, his words were, "they don't want your pity."  And they don't.  If I honestly want to make a difference with the love of God, I have to love these people, not pity them.  Jesus didn't hang out with the prostitutes, tax collectors, and hypocrites because he pitied them.  He hung out with them because they were broken, and NO ONE BUT HIM could fix them.  All mankind is searching for something to believe in.  The kids I see on a daily basis fake a smile or act like they have everything under control, and I walk by, not knowing what's going on in their lives in the same way they don't know what's going on in mine.  I used to like that.  But now, I've been thrust out of my close group of intelligent, good, little Christians and thrown into a group of people who embody the oppsosite.  I've dreaded sixth period for the last two weeks, but I recently realized God presented this opportunity as a way to evolve; to serve, to share, to teach, to love.  I try not to miss the opportunities He gives, and I think I'll learn a lot about trust this second semester along with getting in shape. 

a heart that functions at all.

I've never thought drawing was therapeutic.  Until today.

It started off with an overflow of gushing tears on my mommy's shoulder, and the school day ended with more tears and lots of green doodles.

I went to my mentor/best friend/English teacher to pour out my heart a little and get chocolate, but the room was chaotic and I knew I could say everything I needed to say tonight, so I left.

I traveled a building over and walked into the classroom of the teacher all the girls at my school go gaga over.

For me, he's just a guy I look up to.

He survived cancer and has this incredible philosophy on loving everyone and, he tells it as it is, but knows when to show compassion and when to tell you to stop crying and get over it.

Maybe it was because my eyes were rimmed with tears or the fact that I was silent in my favorite class for the first half hour, but either way, he knew what to do;

let me cry and doodle.

So with a lime green pen, I began my piece of art.

I made the curves, filled in the blanks, and occasionally shouted out reasons for my horrible day, sporadically jumping around from detail to detail..

I knew he had to leave at three and I was ready to stop drawing.

Mid sentence, while saying how it was necessary that he keep the drawing so I could finish, he picked up an eraser and walked over.  With a deep breath, he handed the eraser to me and I scrubbed the board 'til not even a trace could be found of my doodling. 

Then, I walked out into the sun, made the journey to my car, turned up Brooke Fraser and

smiled. 

I'm still alive.

I just don't have anything to say.