why not

Something about him had stuck with her, and it would creep up on her when she heard a song that sounded like one he wrote or ran down his side of the street.

It hadn't even been anything, but it still hurt.

That time, he had been the one to say no.

Well, he didn't actually say it out loud.

But she knew.

Somehow his rejection had hurt more than the others. It was that curious kind of hurt, like when you peel back the bandaid just to see if the graze is healing, except that by doing so, you only make it worse.

Because the hardest part about the whole situation was not knowing why.

Or why not, rather.

But,

we never really do find out why, do we?

cannonball--take two

Remember that one time when I was going to be brave?

And just go for it

head first

without worrying about how deep the water was?

I think I'm failing

and I'm too tired to try and catch myself.

Let alone anyone else.

Peter

Peter has always been one of my favorite apostles.

Maybe that's because I can see a bit of myself in him.

He had such incredible faith, and wanted to defend the Lord at whatever cost.

But he is so perfectly imperfectly human.

Because sometimes he made mistakes.

And fell short of his own hopes.

And maybe got a little scared.

And had doubts.

But he was devoted and tried so hard.

He acted on his faith. He lived faithfully and passionately and loved the Lord with all his heart.

And I think he was stronger than he gave himself credit for. He had faith in the Savior, but maybe not always faith in himself.

St. John 21: 7-8 (emphasis added)

7 Therefore that disciple whom Jesus loved saith unto Peter, It is the Lord. Now when Simon Peter heard that it was the Lord, he girt his fisher’s coat unto him, (for he was naked,) and did cast himself into the sea.

8 And the other disciples came in a little ship; (for they were not far from land, but as it were two hundred cubits,) dragging the net with fishes.

I love that.

He knew.

And he ran to Him.

That's all there is to it.

image via this*

*The painting is from James Tissot's exhibit, "The Life of Christ". It's a beautiful collection of images from the Savior's life. And I especially loved this image of Peter. It just shows how excited and anxious he is to see the Savior. And it seems that he has no doubt that the Savior has returned.

manifesto for the school year

"Confront the dark parts of yourself, and work to banish them with illumination and forgiveness. Your willingness to wrestle with your demons will cause your angels to sing. Use the pain as fuel, as a reminder of your strength."

-August Wilson

There are some things I feel like I've slacked on this summer.

Not that this summer was a failure.

Not at all.

But I feel like I was just so busy and caught up in the many things I was doing (good things, mind you), that I lost a little bit of who I am.

Just a little bit.

I slacked off a little bit in some things that are important to me.

Just a little bit.

This is not me ragging on myself or moping about the past.

This is just me recommitting to a life I love.

A life that is full of passion and character and a few blue recycling bins.

A life of living the principle that less is more.

And that books and music and writing and good quality entertainment are not a waste of time.

That these books mean so much more when I'm not half-asleep.

That playing is just as important to my health as working.

And that learning is a privilege, not a burden.

So I'm going to unpack the boxes in my room, and figure out what to keep, what to get rid of and what to put away until I decide how important it is to me.

And recommit to loving the life God gave me. And remembering what is important.

image from this fabulous girl

Tea-drinking, yoga-doing, bohemian chic

Yesterday, Katie, Kellie and I decided we wanted to be sophisticated and mature.

So, naturally, we bought two different kinds of herbal tea:

African Apple Red

and

some mix of chamomile and lemongrass*


Well.

They were both pretty gross.


I guess we'll stick with apple cider and hot cocoa. For now, at least.

image via deviantart

*(I actually kind of like chamomile tea, but only when I've got a head cold.)

Take your pick.

Ballroom dance is sort of like:

a) an abusive boyfriend that I love too much to leave.
b)Edward Cullen--perfect, enough that I never feel quite worthy of it.
c) the carrot in front of the horse--just tempting enough to make me look like an idiot chasing it.


And now, cast your vote...

I should now spend my "spare" time:
a) learning to play the guitar.
b) focusing solely on my schoolwork
c) dancing on my own, in preparation for another game of "who's good enough for Gold Latin?"
d) all of the above? would I die from that?

Ok. I'm done wallowing. I'm so moving on. Honest.

Also. I need to go job-hunting tomorrow. Ugh.