May 6, 2015

Beautifully Broken

    Here's a poem I literally just wrote, mmm maybe, 10 minutes ago. I wrote it in less than 5 minutes or so. Usually I wait to post things until I've edited it a lot or let it sit and marinate a bit but I decided that today I would let there be something beautiful about the raw truth and imperfection of right now. 

     I was dealing with some anxiety and decided to write this poem. Luckily I've had fewer anxiety attacks now that I have learned how to identify and deal with it as it comes but I had one of those moments where I could feel it dwelling up in me, so I took to ye old typewriter. (Just kidding, I don't own one of those, but I did type everything out on ye new computer nonetheless). 

     If you don't know what anxiety is... look it up, because I don't feel like explaining it. Haha! The majority of people I know think they deal with anxiety, though they don't. But with the insanity of life in this century and the lack of ability or knowledge for people to deal with negative emotion, anxiety is greatly on the rise and you'd probably be surprised by just how many people struggle with it. Having said that, there is a different between being anxious and having anxiety. Also, there is a difference between an anxiety attack and a panic attack. Panic can seem very similar to anxiety because they can come from similar root problems but they are not the same. 

    Many people are pretty ashamed to talk about their negative feelings or admit that they can't handle life all the time. Though I sometimes feel this way too, I think it's a very beautiful thing for people to admit that they don't always have their act together. Honestly, I don't think I ever have my act together, but I think that's part of being beautifully broken. The fact that I can feel so dark sometimes and be so disillusioned and discombobulated but still make my way in this world really is a miracle in itself. So I think this world needs to share more of its personal brokenness. We can't be miraculously healed or heroically rescued if we are never hurt or in need of help and I think that without brokenness we would never see such beautiful redemption. Maybe that's why I don't inherently hate sad movies... huh... Anyway, here's a glimpse of what I feel like sometimes when anxiety strikes its way into my stomach... 


Beautifully Broken

Ready to get out,

Ready to let go,

Ready to leave behind the chains that hold me close.

Over my chest, they press and press as they steal my each and every breath.

Over my heart, my lungs, my breast, the chains pull tighter. They never rest.

And so I hurt inside— I writhe, I wriggle,

Trying to break myself free.

Until I’m hysteric, hilarious, foaming and brittle—

Past the point of no return is where I’m heading.

And I cry and I cry and I cry and I cry and I cry until I can’t keep crying anymore

Because I’ve decided to take a swim in my salt lake of tears where I can bathe in my misery galore.

And it’s dark and it’s dank and it’s full of screeching souls

But I’m tangled up in chains so I don’t mind

But inside me is the metal of the chains I’ve swallowed whole and now they seem to bind me from inside.

And I burp and I belch and the chains come poking out, like the birth of devil spawn inside of me.

And I can’t seem to figure out what the heck I should do because I’ve tried (for so long!) not to set them free.


So I shut down.


Completely.



I learn to live in the dark.

No flashlight, no nightlight, all the light has been set apart.
I am completely bound by darkness, like the death I was born to be
And though nothing makes any sense, in essence I am free.

Finally, I mustn’t answer to anyone I know. I mustn’t answer to anyone at all.

Finally I am capable of nothingness in my head.

If I close my eyes, I might even fall-- 

But it only lasts for one second before I wake up and find myself dead.

Until I'm right back at it and the cycle is starting again.

I might as well let it get the best of me...


A n x i e t y.




Live, Learn, Love, and Leave a Legacy,

Emma

May 1, 2015

Sufficient Grace

Grace.  We hear about it on Sunday mornings, talk about it at Bible studies, and try to live by it in our daily lives.  But sometimes, life gets in the way and prevents us from seeing and knowing the truths Jesus so lovingly told us.  We forget to give out that same grace that was lavished upon us.  And sometimes, we forget what grace really even means.
Dictionary.com defines grace as, "a manifestation of favor, especially by a superior...favor shown in granting a delay or temporary immunity." 
The Merriam-Webster dictionary, additionally, describes it being, "unmerited divine assistance given humans...a virtue coming from God...a special favor."  
On Tuesday, I found myself in need of the grace of the Lord.  I always need it--but sometimes I don't see that need.  I struggle with a condition called Neurocardiogenic syncope, which causes me to be careful in how I live.  Usually, I can catch and take care of the symptoms before the downward spiral.  Earlier this week, however, I found that all of a sudden, my body was saying loud and clear: PREPARE TO PASS OUT!

My sister picked me up from class and drove me home, and I spent the rest of the day vegging out on the couch and trying to down as much water as humanly possible. While my symptoms usually last from a few minutes to about an hour, this one lasted the better part of the day.  In times like those, it's hard for me to comprehend why I have been dealt these cards, so to speak.  I need to remember to immediately run to my Father for help, because the truth of my condition is that I cannot just fix it.  There is no magic Syncope-Be-Gone medicine.  But there is relief of a better kind.

Amidst the problems I was fighting through, a verse was put on my mind.  2 Corinthians 12:9.  I grabbed onto that verse and held it close, reciting it over and over as I waited for something to change.  But then I thought, why should I struggle so hard to be the strong one?  In what way does putting on a strong face, pretending nothing is wrong, help magnify Christ's strength? 

Over and over, I heard the voice of the Lord telling me exactly what I needed in that time.  My grace is sufficient for you.  Chill out, Laurel, I've got this.  My power is made perfect in your weakness.  Do you understand that?

Like the apostle Paul, sometimes we are given a thorn.  This can be literal--a physical illness causing pain--or it can be a number of other things.  Emotional turmoil and spiritual warfare, to name a few.  We ask for our pain to be taken away, but the answer isn't always yes.  Instead, sometimes God tells us simply that He is enough to get us through.  No doctor, no medicine, no lifestyle change can take away some of life's pains.  Our lives are not about feeling great all the time...they are about relying on Christ.  And often times, it is easiest to trust in Him completely when we realize how little we can rely on ourselves.

"Three times I pleaded with the Lord about this, that it should leave me."  (2 Corinthians 12:8)  Paul was suffering, and he asked three times for the Lord to take his suffering away.  Yet Christ, while in the Garden of Gethsemane, chose to have the right outlook, despite his pain.  "Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but Yours be done."  (Luke 22:42)

This is the attitude I want to adopt in hard times.  Not my will, but Yours be done.  God knows infinitely more than I do--I am only a feeble-minded human.  In my weakness, His strength is magnified.  So if He wants me to walk through life with a thorn in my side, be it literally or metaphorically, how is that a bad thing?  It means I get to experience the strength of the Lord in a huge way.

And I would rather have that than have superficial strength any day.

Apr 21, 2015

The Oreo Speaks

There's simply something about being black that no white person will ever understand. 

I've tried to explain it many times, but in the end, I can't quite find the words... so to all of you white people out there, you just have to trust me in believing that there is an intangible difference between white people and black people and you'll never really get it, but that's okay. It is what it is. I feel like I have the authority to say this because I am black and I am white and I've seen and heard and understand things in a way that I believe no only white and no only black person can understand. Being a carmel baby really gives you the ability to empathize (not just sympathize) with both groups. Unfortunately, even then, I can only empathize so much because I have never been 'completely' white and I've never been 'completely' black either. I have only experienced some of the privleges and disadvantages of both types of people and therefore cannot completely empathize with either. 

Good thing God understands us all, eh?

The majority of people I am around are very much of the WASP derivative, and though I fit in with that group most of the time. It's moments like this-- when I hear about men like Martese Johnson-- that make me feel so alone because I know that no matter how often I think that I am on the same page with the people around me, I know that we will never really understand each other. 
I haven't seen the comments yet, but I can imagine the thousands of people searching and speculating in every way they can to figure out what Martese did to deserve the beating he recieved. And I have seen the many comments that say "this is only in the news because he's black, this happens all the time to white people too, it's just never sensationalized." And though I'm sure there is an element (whether a small or large element) of truth to both sentiments, I still firmly agree that this instance is a moment for our country to recognize that there is a problem and racism against black people does exist. I'm tired of hearing people claim that, "We have a black president now, so therefore there is no such thing as racism against black people," or "Look at Oprah! If she's black and successful, all black people can make it too with equal opportunity, as long as they aren't lazy and don't sag their pants." 

The truth is, there is still a lot of racism against black people but it takes a very different form than it did in the past. Don't get me wrong, I definitely believe we have made major progress in racial relations between black and white people from the beginning of our country until now. So don't view my words as a hate speech or some sort of "our country is on the fast track to hell" sentiment. Rather, I simply do not think that we have a good reason to stop trying to make progress just because we're at a "good" place. I don't desire goodness, I desire greatness, and I believe that greatness is possible-- especially when you consider the fact that no matter how good or even great things get, improvements will always be necessary when it comes to American culture. We must remember that change doesn't happen from the outside in, it starts from the inside out-- meaning you and I need to be the change. *Refer to the bottom of this post for disclaimers and further explainations.

First, I would like to identify a few (only a few) ways that prejudice is physically prevelant toward black people in our (American) culture today. Then, I would like to propose a few ideas of how we can change our mindset and be the change that we'd like to see in the world. Are you game?

From a young age, we (westerners) are taught that black is not beautiful. "Hold up, hold up," you say as you start listing your top 5 favorite black celebrities and pick out the 2 or 3 black friends that you think are physically attractive. Yes it's true there are MANY black men and women who are deemed beautiful by our society, however, unfortunately a good number of them are black people with white features. "Say whaaaaaat????" You're thinking... Yeah. You heard me. 
Usher (Google)
Let me explain-- many of the black people that we deem beautiful in our culture are people that have the 'black' skin color or culture but are deemed beautiful because of their caucasian-like features. For example--
Beyoncé (Google)
Jennifer Hudson (Google)









Many of my white friends would consider the people above to be attractive and many of my black friends would agree. But let's look at this for a second and consider some of the facts about these 'beautiful black people.'

1. Beyonce' is a mixed chick like me. Most people assume that she's 'completely black' but she is not. Here's an interesting statement from the writer Touré in Rolling Stone, 

“Beyoncé has become a crossover sex symbol a la Halle Berry, a black girl who's not so overwhelmingly Nubian that white people don't appreciate her beauty." 

That's not necessarily a bad thing, but why can't someone be "overwhelmingly Nubian" and still be considered beautiful by white people? I think there are many reasons why, but regardless, I think we should try to change that. Many people will talk about the differences of being black, versus being "straight from the heart of Africa black." My question is, why can't someone be "straight from the heart of Africa" and be considered beautiuful by our society?

2. The hair. 
Alright so Usher doesn't really count because he's a guy and men's hair is it's own topic, but look at Jennifer Hudsons hair for a second and take a moment to realize that THIS IS NOT naturally BLACK PEOPLE HAIR. Okay? Okay. Good. Especially some of my friends who have grown up in Colorado Springs don't understand the concept of wigs and weave, so I felt the need to highlight this. Another white person feature that our culture tends to relate to 'beautiful' black people is white people hair. If you don't know the difference or some of the hair vocabulary mentioned above, Google it.
Image via Google

3. Nose. Slim nose for the win, no doubt about it. Many black people have big noses, often times the media we see does not portray such people as culturally 'beautiful.' That's all.

4. Lighter is better. Generally speaking (as this whole post is generally speaking because there are always exceptions to rules) if you're "black" but of a lighter variety in skin tone, you're generally afforded more opportunities and seen as more culturally beautiful. An interesting article I read on the BBC News website says,

"In many parts of Africa and Asia, lighter-skinned woman are considered more beautiful, are believed to be more successful and more likely to find marriage." 

How sad...


Those of you that know me know that I am pretty light skinned. Believe it or not, I don't even really look like your typical mixed chick. This is because I actually have a lot of other ethnicities in my family and many more than two racial types in my blood. I usually just tell people that I'm 50/50 because my dad's skin is black, my mom's skin is white, and that's what I identify with culturally, so it simplifies things to explain it that way.

Photo by Mixed Chicks
Even amongst bi-racial kids I'm pretty different so many people stare me down, trying to figure out what race I am. Not gunna lie, it's kind of funny to watch when that happens.

Overall I don't mind being different at all, and I used to think that I never minded. But when I really began to think about some of the decisions I've made throughout life, I've realized that my perceptions of race have played a larger factor in my decisions than I originally thought. (Probably because so many of the thoughts and stereotypes I had were subconcious).

I remember one summer when I was a little girl, I was afraid to go outside for long periods of time because I thought that if I stayed in the sun too long, I would get "too black" and it would make me ugly. I would stay inside if I could and wear insane amounts of sunscreen if I went outside. Obviously, I had some pretty big misunderstandings about the concept of tanning, but still, as an 8 year old girl, these thoughts had to come from somewhere-- didn't they?

Yours Truly; Photo by Laurel Burlew

My answer is yes. Our subconscious misunderstandings don't pop out of thin air.

Having said that, I definitely believe that the media plays a huge role in shaping these perceptions but not necessarily in overt ways. When were you ever straight up told that black people aren't beautiful? Maybe you have been, but many of you have likely never heard that from the media. However, when have you been told that black people are beautiful--even when they don't have the features of white people? In fact, I tried to find pictures of the type of non-white, black people that I'm thinking of on the internet, but the only thing I could find were pictures of white-black people (i.e. people with black skin but fake hair and little noses). Not that those people aren't beautiful (of course) but the point I am trying to make is that they aren't the only black people who are beautiful.

I remember watching a movie at my friends house once. While we were waiting to start the movie the menu screen was showing the various characters. I was with a group of all girls, mind you, so all the girls were being so squirrley and excited as they talked about their celebrity crushes. However, when the picture of one of the two black men in the entire movie showed up, there was complete silence. In fact, it was kind of awkward because we all knew that the reason everyone was being silent was because the dude is black. Then when one of my friends said, "He's kind of cute too..." my other friend mentioned "eh, he's cute I guess-- for a black guy." 

OUCH.

"For a black guy? What is that supposed to mean?" I asked her.

Then she tried to dig herself out of a hole by saying, "Well, I just don't really like black people."

OUCH again! Right through the heart! The teeny me inside my head was screaming, "Um-- HELLO!-- I am a black person!!!"

The real me simply said, "Well, I'm black" to which she replied, "oh yeah, but not you. Just other black people..." and then she continued to try to dig herself out of that hole by saying things that I will not repeat for the sanity of mankind.

It is also important to recognize that many of the stereotypes about black people do come from an element of truth. The amount of fatherlessness, abuse, gang activity, etc. is typically higher in black communities. However, if you've ever taken a sociology class and have learned about the various factors for these statistics, you'll realize that there is a cycle of hopelessness surrounding specific communities that tend to be made up of minorities. The best thing that can be done to change this is when such communities recieve help from the people who see the root causes of the problems to break the cycle for good, as opposed to the quick "help" of time in jail and public shame. If you think about the orgin of black people in America, it makes sense for these statistics to exist. Though what I am trying to help you recognize is that just because someone is black does not mean that they are a statistic, because the many of them are not.

Now I've been the recipient of many backhanded compliments and ignorant remarks on a daily basis, but one of the biggest things I've noticed is that this mindset that's been created, whether by history, by the media, or stereotypes with an element of truth is rarely just a 'racist mindset.' I have met people who are just plain racist, but very few people. The majority of people that I know who say ignorant things about what it means to be black, don't say it because they hate black people, rather because they have been trained to believe certain things and simply don't know any different.

One of the hardest things for me to admit is that I've noticed that I do tend to be more afraid for my safety around a group of black people than I do in a group of white people and there is no acceptable reason for this in most cases. I am faster to stereotype black people than I am white people, and I tend to notice black people first as a black person and second just as a person. You can probably only imagine the amount of shame I have in admitting that and I am not proud to recognize those statements as truth. In fact, it saddens my heart. Why do I have these prejudices against my own people? These are all mindsets and heart conditions that I am working to change. Majorly. 

This leads me to my first point in a call to action, which is--

1. Recognize your prejudices, then combat them: You don't have to publicly share your prejudices on the internet like I just did, but be aware of your conversations, be mindful of your thoughts, and recognize the stereotypes and portrayals of black people in the media so that it might be easier to seperate fact from fiction when you need to. Then when you see someone coming and recognize what pre-existing notions you might have had, set them aside and approach the person with a fresh perspective. Even if you view yourself as a very tolerant and accepting person, think about it enough and your subconcious prejudices will come to light. Often times we even hold ourselves back due to prejudices about our own race. In communications this concept is known as internalized racism.

Another way you can be a part of the progress in race relations in America is to 

2. Be a part of diverse culture: When I lived in Washington D.C. there were SO many different types of people constantly around me that I didn't tend to seperate them out very much. I just thought of all people as people. However, when I moved to Colorado and found myself living in a place where I was often the darkest skinnned person in any given setting, it shed more light on the idea that someone else was "different" from me and that I was "different" from them. 
     On one particular trip back to D.C. I remember picking up my brother from school and seeing all the kids coming out. Unbelievably, I found myself sub-conciously counting the number of black children that I saw, simply because I was astonished. I had been in a community full of white people for so long that it really highlighted the fact that there are people who are "different" from the group that I had been used to, almost like the seeing someone you've heard stories about but never met in real life. I was honestly quite ashamed that I had noticed, let alone counted, the kids that I saw because they were "different," when just years ago when I had lived there I never saw someone's skin color before I saw them.
      Even if you do live in a predominantly caucasian place, find groups you can be a part of or places you can go to see diversity on a more regular basis. For example, many people aren't aware that there are many ESL groups and refugee camps in their area which provides a space of more diversity. I also noticed that different parts of town have more diverse groups and when I had a job at a gym, I was more likely to see more diverse groups because fitness unites people (I suppose?). Bottom line, make it happen, because you can. 
   

Having said all of this, I am so thankful for who I am, and though it feels lonely sometimes, I am so thankful to be able to see the world from such a different perspective than many of the people I know as a black and white person. In many ways that I can't explain, and probably in more ways than I know, my racial identity has shaped a great part of who I am and I am so so so so very thankful for the way that God has been able to use me to relate to people all over the world in unique ways because of the color of my skin.

I hope that you have learned something from this post (or at least have been given something to contemplate) and I encourage you to open up this conversation and continue to be the change you want to see in the world.

Thank you!

Live, Learn, Love, and Leave a Legacy,

Emma

*Disclaimers and side notes--
I am very aware of the racism and inequality that circles immigrants and other people of other races, including white people, but I feel that because there are so many different types of racism and the situations are both very similar and very very different between them, I would like to narrow the focus of this post to being about black and white. Especially because these are the two sides of me that I feel are consistently at war with each other and something that hardly anyone likes to bring up.  I am not trying to make it seem as if that's a bad thing, I just believe that we need to have the oreo talk and I haven't seen many people that I know getting it started, so I wanted to iniate something.

Another important thing to note is that this post is VERY broad. As mentioned, there are exceptions to every rule and a lot of grey areas in moral topics. Trust me, I know about grey area-- I was practically born one. So please don't take the absolute statements I made and assume that I meant them all as absolutes.

Also, there is honestly SO much more that I could say about this post but I simply don't have time to write it all so I focused on some smaller areas. If you have specific questions, feel free to ask or contact me. 

And lastly... if you disagree with me about something(s) and would like to bring that to my attention, I appreciate it, but please be kind. That's all I ask.


Apr 8, 2015

Update: Week 14

For those of you who keep up with this blog, I apologize for the lack of posting.  Things have been busy around here for Emma and for myself!  While I have been a little too busy to be posting often, I have still kept to my 2015 goal of reading 52 books in 52 weeks.  With the semester getting ready to wrap up and work picking up, it's been difficult to read as much as I would like to.  Couple that with the fact that I have been choosing 1,000-page books more often than not, and it makes reading a large number of books a little bit difficult.

However, I have still been reading!  I have no idea where I was at last time I posted about the books...but I have read some fun stuff in the last few weeks.  I read through The Song of Roland, which is an epic poem that has been translated from the original French.  Though it dragged out in some places, I was pleasantly surprised at how much humor was in it.  Very entertaining!

I also just (and when I say just, I mean I literally just put it down) finished a book called The Shadow Rising, which is the 4th in a 13-book series.  That's right, 13 books!  So much happiness.  The series is incredibly intense, and I would recommend it to anyone in high school or older.  They are thick reads, so don't expect to finish it in a day unless you spend all 24 hours reading.  And just in case you were wondering, I know it can be done because that's how I read through the third book.

Next up on my list?  Well, I'm on to book 5 in the Wheel of Time series.  In addition to that, I would like to read Beowulf--it's been sitting on my nightstand for weeks, and I keep forgetting to actually read it.  So hopefully this week will be the week I finally get around to it!

Week 14 is coming to an end, and I have successfully read through 18 books (or long plays).  While it's not where I originally wanted to be, I am very pleased with how this challenge is going so far.  I can't believe it's already been 14 weeks since the beginning of 2015.  It's also hard to believe it's only been 14 weeks!  Time is such a strange thing, friends.

What have you read lately?  Anything fun and exciting?  I need more book suggestions!

Happy reading!

Apr 7, 2015

The Other World

Once upon a time, in a land more vast than the ocean itself, there remained a struggling kingdom. Never had the kingdom suffered like it did during the time of what the people called, “The Final Year.” During The Final Year the kingdom had lost much to war, wildfires, illness, and magic.


The kingdom was ruled by a beautiful and strong-willed Queen who was adored by her people, even in times of pain. The Queen married at the age of 20, but lost her dear husband to the trauma he suffered after leading the kingdom’s army in a war against the Grushens. The Grushens were a terrible people of giants who lived to steal children and make them slaves. After the war, the King suffered from a terrible wound to the head. But what he suffered from the most was the madness that was caused by the wound. This madness consumed him in the night and ate at the Queen’s heart as she watched the man she once loved slowly turn into a monster.


One year after the war had ended, the King went for a walk at night and insisted that the guards leave him to walk alone. The next morning, his still and lifeless body was found in the forest. No one knew exactly what happened to the King, but everyone assumed that it was his madness that brought him to an end.

Only hours after the King’s body was found and returned to the palace, a mysterious wildfire devoured the forest where the king had died, despite the chilling air and thick snow that fell upon the kingdom that day. As citizens and militiamen alike fought the raging fire, the kingdom mourned for the loss of their King.

The very night of the King’s funeral, the queen discovered that she was going to have a baby. The following day, the kingdom rejoiced in the good news. They rejoiced knowing that God was faithful to them. He blessed them with a successor to the throne and brought restoration to the Kingdom in a time of tragedy!

The people sang, “The King has left us, one for all, but not left us in vain--
He loved us, so he sent a princess to save us all again.
Beautiful, brave, selfless, kind, and sweet, is the princess to be!
She will live, love, learn, and lead us right, just like the legacy of the Queen!”

The praises of the new baby rang throughout the kingdom for weeks, and though the Queen did not yet know if she would give birth to a son or daughter, the people felt sure that there would be a princess. 


Everyone rejoiced—everyone, but one.. 

Mar 7, 2015

From Baths to Burgers: One Dog's Epic Tale

It's time for a fun, random post about nothing particularly important, but will hopefully make you smile!  

Today was a very full day for the Burlew family.  Specifically, for Jack.  Dad and I decided to have some father-daughter time, and part of this included taking Jack to get washed.  Which, as anyone who knows Jack knows, he absolutely hates.  He did not, however, know what was coming as we loaded him into my car and sped off.  All he knew was that the sun was shining, the windows were down, and life was blissful. 

We listened to the radio, appeased him with pets and reassured him of what a good boy he is.  Ah, yes, to Jack this was a perfect outing.  In true Burlew fashion, we even took quite a few pictures.  For those blissful 5 minutes of driving to the dog wash station, Jack was the center of attention--and he loved every second of it. 

Then, in the midst of his happy-go-lucky day, a bomb dropped.  It's name?  Doggie Shampoo.




<--- Happy dog          Sad dog --->
That's when Jack's whole life changed.  At least, his life changed for a total of 13 minutes.  That's how long it took to rinse, shampoo, rinse again, de-odorize, rinse yet again, condition, and rinse one
last time.  The whole while, his legs were shaking.  He never stopped whining.  To jack, somehow it didn't seem as fun as it was to Dad and me.  He didn't share our enthusiasm as we showered him in nice-smelling things, and just did not appreciate the fact that we made sure he was thoroughly rinsed. 

To Jack, he nearly escaped death!  At least, that's what he seemed to think at the time.  Now, to be fair, Dad and I forgot to bring snacks with us to reward him after the bath.  The poor thing, he had no treats to make him feel better!

But on the other hand, we did take him to McDonald's for a burger afterwards.  (Don't worry, we took off all the onions and didn't give him the bread.  He just ate the meat and cheese...yum)  So after being tortured by nice warm water and being embarrassed by a nice cleaning, Jack was rightfully rewarded with something that makes everything better. 

As he downed that meat and cheese, being sure to slobber all over, Jack forgot all his troubles of the day.  He forgot about the shampoo and the many rinses, and he even forgot about the de-odorizer.  He no longer remembered how he had suffered before; all he knew was that he was in bliss.

And on the way home, he once again stuck his head out of the window, sniffing all the new smells and seeing all the new sights.  With his belly full and his coat all shiny (and dry), Jack was able to continue his frolicking and playing without the slightest remembrance of the troubles that had once plagued him...25 minutes ago.

So, there you have it!  The tragic tale of Jack's bath, with a happy (and not at all surprising) ending. 

Happy Saturday!

Feb 17, 2015

The Strength to Face Tomorrow

This is a poem I wrote today. I was writing it for a specific purpose and though I liked it, I didn't feel like it fit the situation that I was writing it for so instead I decided to post it here. I hope it might be an encouragement to someone out there...

Life isn’t easy-- well, at least not most of the time.
It usually seems like we’re walking a straight but dotted line
A line that stand between who we are and who we want to be;
A line that brings us all together, and then separates between you and me.


Things aren’t always simple.
You don’t always know which way to go…
One minute, you’re on the right path
The next, you’re hit with a giant sign that says “NO!”


“No, you’re not smart enough,
Not fast enough,
Not vast enough,
You’re not true enough,
Not YOU enough--


HA! You thought you could be anything?
Is that what they told you?”


Yes it is, but what you didn’t realize is that you only have to be the bold version of you.


The you that faces tomorrow, knowing you can make it through today.
The you that knows tomorrow may be here, or in heaven-- but either way,
It doesn’t matter because when you put your faith in Jesus-- that is enough!
He will hold you, he will mold, he will keep you when life gets tough.


So whatever holds you back, whatever holds you down,
Look at it in the eyes and say “I WILL not fall to the ground!


For I am everything God made me to be-- just as He envisioned.
And I will not degrade myself for the sake of losing in your scrimmage.


I don’t have two roads to take or two choices to make, I have the entire world at my feet.
And, yes, most days will be hard but I have Jesus to strengthen me when I am weak.


So take your money, take your time, take your lust, your doubt, your pride.
And I’ll take my faith and put it in God-- I won’t keep it locked inside.


For he who knows his true worth is the one with true victory in the end

And every price I had to pay is with Jesus-- my Savior and Friend.”



Live, Learn, Love, Leave a Legacy,

Emma