Dear Threaded,

Just when I thought it couldn't get worse, you have a blog like mine.

And it was the poetic, cryptically-worded final straw that cemented the decision that there fails to be a logical reason for ever attempting to speak to you, because one simply can't measure up.

I had to blink a couple times when the complete picture finally emerged... because I wasn't convinced (and still fail to fully grasp with certainty) that you were, in fact, real.

Oh! The insanity I inhabit!

I will remain, wide-eyed and breathless, in the shadows.

Dear Burgundy,

This again.

...Sigh. 

Author's Note: I was such an overdramatic 15-year old. Goodness. 

At Long Last

Yesterday, I woke up to something I hadn't seen since I was twelve.

You can kind of see in this one that the snow was still falling. It literally SPARKLED.

I don't think I stopped squealing until at least 11:30. 

And then...I got to go SLEDDING?! The day couldn't have gotten any better. Really.

I was just happy all day. 

And now we have no school TODAY as well... which means

1) no exams till next week

2) more sleeping

3) more snow

4) more sleeping

5) a 5-day weekend (!)

6) more happiness

... I'm just so happy. I don't think I've been this happy all week. 

Exam Week: Lord Help Me

So the first day back to school after the retreat, I was talking to my drama teacher about how I was stressed for my exam the next day because I'd missed the review day on Friday... because of the retreat.

She jokingly says, "Well, whose fault was that?"

I try to explain I was gone for a youth retreat and had no chances to study.

Immediately, my friend jumps in with, "I told you, that's why you shouldn't have gone!!! Exams were more important, you couldn't have gotten your money back, it was stupid..."
Blah. Blah. Blah.

I tried to explain, guys. I wouldn't even be in any kind of cheerful mood today if I hadn't gone. I needed that weekend. It was good that I went. Of course this friend was having none of it.

Needless to say, I was a little discouraged and a lot irritated.
I was relating the incident to my dad that afternoon on the phone, and he said that it was important that I knew the weekend was worth it, because my relationship with God was more important than my relationship with my GPA. He also said that God has been known to honor commitments like that when we put Him first in our lives, and sometimes He rewards us.

Taking my AP U.S. History exam today, I just thought:

"God, if what Dad said was true, and you see fit to reward me for putting you above my grades by helping me with exams...

... now would be a great time to cash in on that."

I guess we'll see.

A Losing Battle

The battle against our own speech is possibly the most brutal battle in the life of a Christian.

Add high-school to the mix, and put the battle on steroids.

The worst part? The biggest reason non-Christians hate Christians so much is because of our speech. We need to do something about the trash that's coming out of our own mouths, more than ever.

Yet it's the one thing we do almost nothing about.

"From the same mouth come blessing and cursing. My brothers, these things ought not to be so."

-James 3:10

We sing songs in church about praising God. We tell people how we believe in God. Then we go and gossip about that-one-guy or spew foul language about how much we hate something. 

What's wrong with us? 

"Nor should there be obscenity, foolish talk or coarse joking, which are out of place, but rather thanksgiving."

-Ephesians 5:4

I'm not really sure where the idea of swearing first came from. All I know is it's everywhere. I can't do anything about it, but boy, is it one of the things I hate most in the world. And it's not like I'm innocent. I mean, I don't swear, but it's harder than anything not to some days, with everyone around me absolutely gushing swear words. Why do we feel the need to? 

"Don't let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up, that it may benefit those who hear."

-Ephesians 4:29

 I wonder if people actually thought about what effect their words have, would they change them a little. How cool would it be if I could say that everything I spoke was beneficial to those who heard me.  Unfortunately, I'm a human, so that doesn't happen, but I want to think about that more when I just say stuff.

All this isn't to be preachy. Gosh, I sound so preachy. I honestly am so not good at any of this. Basically, I just need to start reminding myself of this daily. 

Because our biggest battles are against ourselves. If everyone's battling themselves, and losing, then there's not much hope for saving each other. 

So essentially, we all need God. Badly.

Oh Father, give me grace to forgive them

'cause I feel like the one losing... 
...why do we think that hate 
is gonna change their heart...

Author's Note: This is my new favorite song. 

Dear Steadfast Atheist,

I don't think you realize how much my heart breaks for you.

It used to be that every so often I would think of you and our few conversations, and shake my head at your disbelief, and maybe say a quick prayer. Or maybe I'd see some other atheist photo you liked on Facebook, and wish they all weren't so blatantly blind to the truth.

But now you seem to come to mind every time I hear a good sermon. Every time I get truth poured into me. (Like, yes, this weekend.) And sometimes you'll come to mind when I'm simply going about my daily routine.

So now, I pray for you every time that happens. I pray that your eyes will be opened and you'll stop wandering around in the dark, searching for something to fulfill you even though everything eventually fails. I pray that God will make you so lost without Him that you'll realize how much you need Him. I pray that He'll bring person after person into your life who will show you what a life devoted to Him looks like, because I can't see you in person.

I pray this for you all the time. And I refuse to lose faith that one day those prayers will be answered and you'll see the incredible life you've been missing.

It breaks my heart that you can't see it now.

Fair Warning

I am practically bursting with the best feelings of truth and love and everything that always comes when I go to youth retreats.

4 days is perfect. Because I'm exactly at the point where I'm ready to go home and live it all out.

For those of you in my life at this time: brace yourselves for hardcore Me.

For any non-Christian blog readers I might have: get ready to be annoyed with me. Or intrigued. I'm just going to go back through all my notes because some of this stuff is too important and meaningful not to talk about.

I mean, the level to which specific people just kept coming to mind during every service was astounding.

So just... get ready guys.

Spicing It Up

As you regulars may have noticed, we've changed our fonts. Say hello to GFS Didot and IM Fell English.

What I really need is a new header picture, but I'm holding out for a snow day, when I can take a truly magnificent one, so until then, here's some variety to tide you over.

I know it's a stray from normality.

Don't be afraid.

Dear Harmonious Friend,

You lifted my spirits in ways you don't even know.

And, truthfully, how could you know? Those secret fears I have never revealed even on this almost-hidden page may never see the light of day. 

But of course, God knew. And even when I didn't know I was asking, He answered a question that had been burdening me for weeks, maybe even months.

So know this.

Even if you feel far from God, today He used your words to give me incredible peace. You are not forgotten in His eyes by any means.

Only One Way to Wake Up

I had a dream that I can't get out of my head.

You know how that sometimes happens? Maybe it was awesome, or scary, or maybe just downright strange, but it keeps randomly coming back to you.

Well, mine was a bit terrifying.

And I can't stop thinking about it, and for some reason, I want to get it out somehow.

The idea just came to me that maybe the only way to adequately release it is to make it into a movie.

No, seriously.

I could get a few extras, try some cheap special effects, get a good soundtrack.

That would be kind of awesome.

A little weird, yes. But maybe that could be my way of making it into something... I don't know, normal? That I could, in a really weird way, be proud of creating?

I guess a movie would be cool if it wasn't a dream that actually happened to me. And since it one of those dreams where I can't fully explain what it was like (you know those dreams... aren't they so frustrating to explain to other people?), it would make it more... explainable.

I don't know. I probably won't have the time, or means, or people willing to be in it.

But it just feels like a good idea at the moment.

Author's note: This feeling passed in about an hour or two.

Scared of Sushi

Since leaving Okinawa, I have been trying to put off the inevitable Asian food craving I knew would come.

But honestly? It's becoming unbearable. Three years makes something become part of you.

I miss it. I need it back.
I need fried shrimp tempura and yakitori on rice and soba noodles and eggdrop soup and miso soup and raw tuna with soy sauce. I'm going crazy. I can't go another day without tasting Arashi's sizzling, steaming fried rice. With garlic sauce. I need green onions in my soup broth and curry powder on my chicken. And curry. But not just any curry. Coco's curry. My usual. (Chicken cutlet. Half size. Spice Level Zero. With mango milk- and if I'm extra hungry, a bowl of corn soup. With some naan bread. Garlic cheese naan. Arigato gozaimas.)

And Family Mart. That beautiful, wonderful, magnificent Japanese version of a 7/11 on every other street corner that will blow any American 7/11 out of the water. I need Family Mart. And one of those dumpling things with curry chicken in the middle, and some apple tea. Oh my gosh... I need an ice cold bottle of apple tea. I'm dying. I never went a week without drinking apple tea. I brought it to school.

Dear God, help me. I even miss wasabi. I hate wasabi.

And those weird little glass bottles with the lemon and the green plus sign on the front. That stuff was like carbonated lemon juice, but I loved it.

And bean sprouts on my salad.

And Hi-Chews.

And...oh my gosh... Japanese McDonalds. This is not fair.

And you know what?

Nothing here is going to taste like any of that.

My friend who lived in Tokyo for three months said she found this sushi place where the Japanese food is actually up to par. She gave me a brochure. We spent lunch talking about how much we missed those dumplings from Family Mart. 

I want to go there, but I'm scared.

Scared that it won't be good enough.

Or what if I just can't tell any more?

Or what if no matter how good it tastes....

... it isn't the same?

The Road to Death

My dad shared a Proverb that I read on Monday, but didn't really see any relevance in because it talked about adultery, which obviously doesn't mean much to a high schooler.

But even though he didn't get the significance at first either, today a friend called him in tears because he might be getting a divorce. Because he committed adultery. And I remembered all the references to death in the passage. The ones that I thought sounded a little over the top at first. Now when my dad talked about it, I realized that it really is death.

Death of relationships. Marriage.

Spiritual death. Sin. Separation from God.

Literal death: Abortion. Because people don't want to pay the consequences.

And I got it.

There's nothing light about that. Nothing flippant. Casual. Nothing about the way casual, adulterous sex is played out in movies is anywhere near the realistic consequences.

That's horrible. That's completely horrible.

And to be honest, it made me sad for the world. Sad for the people I go to school with. For specific people I go to school with. That have no idea they're on a path to death itself.

Dressing Up

Tonight I was supposed to help out as the National Honor Society inducted its new members by getting there early to receive the baked goods the other old members brought.

I was supposed to get there at 5:45.

At 6:07, I sat bolt upright on my bed with a horrifying realization. I saw the clock, yelled some panicked things, threw on something in the span of about 5 seconds (we were supposed to dress "nicely"), and sprinted out the door, yanking on the locked car door handle while my poor father followed me, trying to calm me down.

It wasn't until I got there (and DIDN'T get in trouble, phew), that I looked down at myself and saw that I'd paired a black dress with brown tights.

Thank goodness I was already in the National Honor Society before I got here, or they'd have never let me in.

I wish I could have had an acceptable reason for being late. That I was busy studying for my AP U.S. History test, or baking brownies, or even walking my dog. But I wasn't. Know what I was doing?

Looking at prom dresses, for crying out loud.

I mean, really. Here I am in January, Google-imaging long swishy dresses. What is the matter with me?

Regardless of whether or not that purple one was practically perfect. It's not as if I'll have enough money for college after getting one of those ridiculously expensive ones. Who knows? Prom could be lame. I might not have a date. The music might be terrible. I might find out I'm the only one in my group of friends who is an awkward dancer.

So all this is to say that I've had dresses on my mind today, and I'd love to wear a really nice one.

A Scary Kind of Courage

Forgiving is one of the hardest, if not the hardest thing I've ever had to do as a Christian.

It's hard for anybody. But there's something about my personality that tends to just... not let go of things. I can say the words, but deep, deep, deep down... I hardly ever fully mean it. 

But I don't want to just say it. I want to really be okay. 

I want to be able to look people in the eye and say, not just that it's 'okay', but that I forgive them whether or not they're even sorry. And then I want to be able to not think about it again. And just move on.

That's hard.

Really hard.

I have to literally ask God to do that. To make me want to forgive. To be okay with never getting an apology, but forgiving anyway. To be okay with forgiving what I may feel is a halfhearted apology. To be okay with forgiving even the most sincere apologies. 

I can't do it, but He can. 

And I guess for now that's okay. 

Some Things

Some things I hate:

Having to wash my hair
When it gets hot in my room
When my hand hurts from writing
Milk after it sits too long
Not being able to cry
Cold toes
Keish
B's
C's
Tuesdays
Living far away
When people don't leave me alone
When I'm alone for too long
Chapped lips
Banana breath
Swearing
Swearing
Swearing
Forgetting dreams
Being nervous
Boring biographies
Itching after sitting in the grass
When I can't fall asleep
Funny-but-inappropriate jokes
Confrontation
When people turn the lights on
Initiating anything
Sprinkles

Some things I love:

Laughing hard
Having clean hair
Being outside when it's raining
Hats
Pasta
Water sports
Sunrises
Italics
Old books
Blue
The good kind of beaches
The moment right before I fall asleep
Big dogs
The fact that I'm left-handed
Crying
Going really fast
Being secretive
Taking a perfect picture
Thinking about things that make me smile
Screaming
Freckles
70 degrees Farenheit
Interesting last names
Riding a horse
Climbing trees
Roadtrips
Roller coasters
My dad laughing hard
Adventures
My hair underwater
Great hugs
Almost-realistic daydreams
Being trusted
Eating dinner when I'm hungry
Summer
Fall
Long hair
Thumbtacks
Blueberries

Living Among the Worldly, Myself Included

Living in a den of thieves

and it's contagious...

...I think I need youth group.

Can that happen again, please?

I just hate being around disgusting teenagers every day.

Not that I'm an exception. 

But still. 

It gets exhausting.

"Let us not lose heart in doing good, for in due time we will reap if we do not grow weary."

-Galatians 6:9 

The Need to Feel Attractive

Again, words cannot express my frustration that Spotify has to be downloaded to listen to this song.

Just download it. Do it.

But anyway.

I just have the urge to walk into someplace in a great outfit in slow motion while this song is playing and have a couple guys turn their heads and be like, woah she's attractive. 

Is that too much?

Cause sometimes I just get in that kind of mood. 

Something I Could Use

This weekend was seriously the best. I know I've said this multiple times. But it was. And this picture kind of sums it all up.

In fact, this picture says a lot.

Go ahead and take a second look. 

The Hour of Second Guessing

So while turning in my sheets

and once again I cannot sleep

I knew this would come. It always does.

But why is it so hard?

Every time I say something, immediately I wish more than anything I could take it back.
Why did I just say that?

So silence is always the default.

But silence, though safe, is stifling before long.

So here I am with a headache
and the decision that there's no way I can win this one. 

After 2 a.m.

It's strange how nighttime changes everything.

There are some things you swore you'd never tell another person, but then suddenly it's late and you tell yourself that it's just something about the foggy tiredness in your mind that weakens your resolve, but could it really be that just maybe, the people around you are being knit closer by the darkness of the hours, and suddenly, those people seem worthy of carrying your secrets.

"The scariest things we submit ourselves to are hardly ever spiders or snakes or clowns. To me at least, the greatest fear is found in those moments in which you allow what people think of you to be replaced with who you are. And knowing that where you stand with them is inevitably going to shift." -Sarah Labanc

But suddenly it's morning again. 

And with the daylight comes your logic.

And the cold fear sets in when you realize that what if those people don't protect you. 

Anything can happen now. 

What's so simple in the evening

by the morning never is...

So To Recap

Because I'm cliche, I decided to pull out my New Year's Resolutions from last year and see how I did.
(the full versions are in this post from a year ago)

-Go a month without makeup. Yes.

-Decide if I wanted my first kiss or not. More or less.

-Talk about God with people of three different religions. Yes.(Mormon, Atheist, Agnostic)

-Cross off a couple of the higher items on my bucket list. Yes. (went to China, owned colored jeans)

-Do something bold. Yes. (punched someone in the face, told a few good secrets)

-Finish a mile. Yes, but I'm still not in the best shape.

-Read the Bible a lot more. Meh. I guess, but could always read more.

-Wear better clothes to school. Yes.

-Keep my room clean. Yes, for the most part.

-At least find one really good guy. Yes- probably found a few and didn't know it. 

I think I did pretty good. Trouble is, now I gotta top it. 

2013 Resolutions

-Get a date to prom

-Don't stay in America all year

-Get abs  (Oh please.)

-Have a swimsuit-worthy body by summer

-Keep up daily Bible readings, even in times of inclement weather and schedule changes

-Don't be afraid to wear earrings

-Grow out hair at least 2 inches

-Get a drivers license. Seriously.

-Have a Top 3 (or 5) list for colleges 

-Spend more one-on-one time with specific friends and family members

Okay. There we have it. 

Ready? Go. 

Dear Burgundy,

I have no choice but to be on your team. I wish I could still say I'm on the fence, because that answer is so much less scary than the truth.

But to be honest, I think that for now, you may have won.

Too Close

I'm sitting in a basement.

My stomach hurts.

Why does it hurt, still?

Is it hunger or leftover nervousness?

The scariest moment of pain came while sitting in a circle at 3am. It was approaching my turn. I was fine. I had gone once, twice, before. Right?
All of a sudden the pain in my stomach gave way to a much bigger problem: my head started to feel light and dizziness kicked in. I told myself it was from breathing in too forcefully and suddenly.

But then there was the tingling in my fingertips.
The low heat that washed up my body like a wave, staying in my face.
The nearly-silent ringing in my ear.

Every time those three had happened together before, my vision had almost immediately started to go black.

No. Not here. Not right now.

If I wasn't nervous, I reasoned, as it got even closer to my turn, then why did I have the horrific feeling of being about to pass out?

Then, before I could slip up and make a fool of myself in front of everyone, I let my turn come and go. And just like that, I was okay again.

Why do I get nervous???