Hope

   Hope.  We search for it, we crave it, we need it.  Without hope, we never change, we never grow, we never live.  We never smile.  Hope is what keeps us going.  Hope gives us strength.  Hope is our sustenance.

   We must hope for more.  If we hope for what we are already sure of we truly have no hope.  We must hope for above and beyond.  We must hope for more than anyone else will dare to hope for.  We must hope for so much that we surprise even ourselves, but we must hope anyway.

   When we feel everyone is against us, we will hope.  When we have nothing else left, we will hope.  When it seems impossible, we will hope.  Against all odds, we will cling to hope, and we will be victorious.

 



Hope is what we crave, and that will never change.
It's written on my soul:
Hope's what we crave.

~For King and Country

 

 In this hope we were saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what they already have?  But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently.

~Romans 8:24-25

 

A Penny For Your Thoughts

   What are you thinking?  No, forrealz (<< just pretend that's a word).  Tell me what's been on your brain.  The homework due tomorrow that you forgot about?  That certain person who may or may not like you back?  What you're gonna wear?  Sports?  Food?  God?
   Do you spend your thougths on things worthwhile?  Our thinking should be focused on what is true, noble, right, pure, lovely and admirable.  The Creator of all good things knows your thoughts.  Is He pleased?  Keep Him always on your mind.  Put your thoughts to good use.

We Welcome Fall

   Fall, we welcome you.  We look forward to the crisp newness you bring, the holidays you usher in, and the gorgeous colors you paint our world.  We welcome you, Autumn, and all that comes with you...

• falling, crunching, color-changing leaves

• hoodies

• friday night lights

• bonfires and s'mores

• youth retreat

This one's from camp this summer :)

• wishing I had a fireplace

• turning on the Christmas music

• Thanksgiving

• wearing jeans and boots

• my15th birthday

• hot chocolate

 

Pictures via Pinterest.

 

 

 

 

I Was Little

   When I was little, I always drew the sun in the corner of the paper.  I sorted my Skittles by color, and I sang the wrong words to worship songs while alone in my room.  I was a princess, an army nurse, a cowgirl, or an orphan, depending on my mood.
   When I was little, I memorized John 3:16 and went to church every chance I got.  I loved school, and I hated getting in trouble.  I moved as many times as most people do in their whole life, and each time it got harder, but I got stronger.
   These years of littleness shaped who I am as a young woman. Sometimes I wish I could go back.  Maybe not to change things.  Maybe just to remember, to re-enjoy the carefree days of naivete.  Maybe because when I was little, I didn't realize how fast I would grow up.

So Fake

   I look around me and I see them playing pretend.  Fake hair color, fake happiness, and fake confidence.  Make-up to cover blemishes.  Smiles to cover pain and problems.  Friends to cover insecurity.
   I see them adjusting their disguise at every turn.  They adapt to each situation and each group of people.  They do their best to impress everyone.  They try to fill the gaps in their performance. 
   I see them going to church, being good on Sunday no matter what the rest of the week will look like.  They think it's enough.  They try to impress God.
   I see them acting like they've got it all together.  They put on an "I'm-doing-just-fine-and-I-don't-need-your-help" attitude.  They pretend that they're obviously confident. They are breaking on the inside, falling apart, crying.
   They are so fake.
  

She Cries

   The sadness. The guilt.  The fear.  The despair.  The hate.  They envelop her, trap her, take her captive, and won't let go.  She feels unworthy, unlovable, unable to help herself.  There seems to be no escape, no plan B, no chance.  No one to turn to.  She is crying out for someone, anyone, to hear her, to notice her, to love her.  But her tears remain unseen, and her pain stays hidden deep within the jail of her soul.  She is overwhelmed.  She can't numb the constant pain.  She can't take anymore.  She is lost.  She has run out of options.
   She sits on her bed, razorblade in hand. 

On Bullying

I sent this to my local newspaper as a letter to the editor and it was published past month.

To the adults - parents, teachers, administrators, board members:

   School is about to start.  What's on your mind?  Are you thinking about bullying?  It was such a hot topic last year.  You talked a lot and tried to do a lot.  Bullying was a big deal.  Will it be any different this time around?
   You see, that's the problem.  All your discussions and committees and educational videos and policies and talks aren't getting the results you're looking for.  It's wonderful that you are working for change, but your efforts really aren't getting you anywhere.
   I'm fourteen.  I go to public school.  You can consider me your insider.  I've sat through the movies that will change the way we look at life, and I've heard the talking and laughing while they play.  I've heard what the counselor has to say and I've been a part of the group discussions where we all talk about the bullying problem at our school.  I've listened to kids spout the right answers and share solutions, and I've seen the teasing, the exclusion, and the rude comments ten minutes later.
   You have taught our heads well, but it's our hearts that need an education.  What if instead of going to the meeting where they talk about us, our parents stayed home and talked with us?  What if our teachers would call out another teacher's kid for treating others like less?  What if our parents taught us the value of others, and what it is to be a hero?  What if instead of creating more rules and policies took make it look like they did something,our administrators took real action?  Can you imagine if the adults in our community displayed for us the respect, equality, and honor they so wish we had?
   Talk with us, be an example for us, and expect more of us.  Be the change, to help us make a heart change.

Here I Am To Worship

   When you read the title of this post, what came to mind?  What do you relate to worship?  What is worship?
   Is is music?  Is it a church santuary?  Is it standing there singing (or not), or raising your hands (or not).  What does worship mean to you?
   We are told to worship in spirit and in truth.  Worship is more than a song.  It is more than the 15 minutes before the sermon.  Worship is living your life in a way that pleases God.  It is praising Him with everything you say and everything you do.  It's having God on your mind all day.
   Worship is living in constant awe of Yahweh.   It is turning to Him in your weakness, because He is the only One strong enough.  It's realizing how small and unworthy you are, and attempting to grasp His power and holiness.
   Worship is daily dying to self.  It is offering yourself up as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to the Lord.  It is giving Him everything.  It's focusing every thought, every word, every action, every facet of your existence on Him.  Worship is a desire to honor Father God above all else.

   How have you worshipped today?

pic from Google

 

 

I Am a Coach's Daughter

   I have grown up watching football, talking football, and loving football.  Jerseys and pads were thrown in with the dresses and jewelry when playing dress-up.  I got used to coaches and boys showing up at my house to hang out with my dad.  I learned the difference between a blitz and a different kind of blitz, the importance of "Drive your feet!", and how to draw plays.  I joined the games in the yard and the street and showed off my bruises, jammed fingers, and competetive spirit.
   To me, being a coach's daughter means a lot of things.  I've witnessed practices, film sessions, and pep talks.  My titles include, but are not limited to, videographer, manager, spectator, water girl, write-this-down-for-me girl, stand-on-the-sidelines-and-do-whatever-I-need-you-to-plus-cheer girl, and "Aren't you the coach's daughter?"  (I actually do like my name, though.)
   I have developed an intense love for going to "Daddy's games."  I will find a way to get there.  I have sat through the rain and gone numb from cold.  I'm the one who answers, "What just happened?"  I have yelled and cheered 'til I lost my voice.  I forget my friends are sitting there next to me.  I have shed tears over high school football.
   Being a coach's daughter means a lot to me.  People wonder why I voluntarily show up to help, why I care so much.  I guess you could say it's because I love the game of football.  I love the adreneline rush on Friday nights, the teamwork and comraderie, the thrill of victory.  I love that courage is made real, and that true character is revealed on the football field.  But even more, I really love my daddy.

Guys! I'm Back!

Dear beloved Readers-of-my-blog,
   I have not died and gone to Heaven, given up writing, disappeared off the face of the earth, been kidnapped, decided you guys weren't cool enough to read my writing anymore, or fallen victim to any other horriffic atrocity.  It's just that our computer crashed and burned (crash-and-burned?  crash/burned?  Language Arts teacher, please help) and I have been cut off from the outside bloggy world for a month.
   But.  We just bought a new computer. (!!) Therefore, I am back*.  You can be expecting posts on school, love, and identity in the near future.  Plus, keep your eyes peeled for a giveaway! Yes, finally.  Get excited people! I know I am.
   I am eagerly looking forward to the future and what God has for me and PIaFL**.  Pray for me as I pray for all of you.  Know that you are loved beyond measure and that Father has a crazy-awesome plan for your life.  May you be blessed with grace, joy, and peace.  To God be the glory!***

*picture a goofy grin on my face here
**Princess In a Foreign Land. Yupp, first time I've abbreviated the name of the blog.
***Forever and ever.  Amen