The One Who Loves You

Psalm 91:4-7 (NIV)

4) He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings will you find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.
5) You will not fear the terror of the night, nor the arrow that flies by day,
6) nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness, nor the plague that destroys at midday.
7) A thousand may fall at your side, ten thousand at your right hand, but it will not come near you.


I find it amazing, that as a mere human 
being, among millions of others, that there 
is a God, a loving God, that cares for me 
that way.
 
Our society teaches girls to look for love 
through insecure, unsteady, unstable 
relationships, habits, and addictions.
There is no guarantee of love; no 
guarantee if you are safe in being able to 
trust something or someone else with what you need.

Yet, there is one man that holds all that we 
could ever possibly want. He is offering to 
hold us in the palm of His hand for the rest of our lives. And when we die, He promises us an entirely perfect eternal life with Him.

He has written us a book, filled with wisdom, healing, and guidelines.
He has expressed His love for us, over and over again (John 3:16 Romans 5:8, 8:37-39
1 John 3:1 John 15:9-17)
He has given us guardian angels to watch over us (Psalm 91:11)
He is always there when we call (Psalm 91:15).
He sees us as beautiful (Proverbs 3:15-18 Psalm 34:5)

He does everything He can to capture our hearts; He even died a terrible death, just for 
our freedom.

Even though He knew that many of us would turn Him down.
Even though He had no promise from us that we would return that love.
Even though very few of us are willing to die for Him.

Think about it. Why do we run from the very love that sacrificed everything for us? Why
do we refuse our ultimate, perfect soulmate?

It overwhelms me. I pray that it always does.

Let His love make you whole. Let it make 
you who you are. Let it heal your wounded
heart. 
Let Him hold you in His lap as you cry. You
are His child. You are His princess. He is 
your soulmate. Turn to the One who loves 
you in your time of need.

Happiness In A Jar

As a little girl, one of my "happy moments" that has stuck with me
was when I would sprawl out on the floor of the bedroom I shared
with my sisters, and pick up all the acrylic beads that had been
dropped, that no one else wanted.
Of course, I would always have to sort through them later to get 
the fuzz and hair off them, but I was very protective of those 
little beads. They were like my personal pieces of happy, in a 
a broken and confused little girl's heart.


We all have to pick through the fuzzies and hair of life to find
our little bits of happy. 
But once you get past the fuzzies and hair, you find things that
are pretty and sparkle.
But the things that are pretty and sparkly are no good unless you
appreciate them. 
We all have stories of being broken and sad.
But let's start to share the stories of being strong and whole.


Let's build each other up, and let the bad be drowned in the good. 
Let's take the broken memories and piece them together
and use them to light the way for others.
Let's take those happy moments, and build them up to hours
and days
then months
years
a lifetime. 




Those neglected beads on the floor of my bedroom?

I put them in a jar. 
I put my childhood in a jar
and I choose to make it beautiful.
It's worth getting past all the fuzzies and hair
to create the little rainbow in a jar,
a reminder that there is beauty and happiness in the ordinary
even when things look bad.
I am reminded that no matter how big or small the jar is,
as long as there is some happiness in it,
I have so much to be thankful for.

Safety in Pain ((New Addictions))

Look at this picture. 
Look at it closely. 
Because this exists.


This is real.

 

Many people don't see it,
but it's there. 


It is real.


It is a choice.
One that many choose to make. 
But it's one you don't have to make. 
There is hope.


Hope is real.

I have talked to a lot of hurt people. 
A lot of people that are broken inside.
A lot of people that think they are alone in their pain. 


And yet, I stand before them, a fellow hurt person, knowing, better than they think I do, exactly how they feel.


You were never alone,
you just didn't give someone the chance to actually be there for you. 

I get it. 
Your pain is your life. 
It's your safety place. 


When everything else around us seems to fall apart, going back to being broken and wallowing in pain is a shelter. 


It's exactly like being a child. 
When you are scared, you always go to the place that makes you feel safest. 

Like, in your mom's arms, or on your dad's lap. 
Like cuddling with your favorite blankie or stuffed animal and hiding in a corner.


We become so adjusted to pain that when all else fails, that is what we return to. 

You never realized that, did you?


You defend your pain: you protect it from the harmful judgement of others, because we are afraid that their pain may be more than ours. 
That they may get more attention for their pain. 


Selfishness. That is pure selfishness. 


You don't acknowledge that it's possible for someone to be worse off than you.

I acknowledge that you have been hurt. 
I acknowledge that you are suffering deep inside. 
I am listening. 
I am hearing. 
And I am seeing. 


But stop.


Stop letting it be this way. It doesn't have to be. 


You tell me that you want to let it all go and give it to God.
You tell me that you can't help but feel that way. 


Stop letting pain write the end of your story. 


You can choose to write the pain out in one chapter. Don't make it your whole book.


How are you going to write it? How are you going to take the hurt as its thrown at you? 

What has motivated you to stay here this long?


You don't have to OD on drugs,
You don't have to cut your skin with a knife,
You don't have to choke yourself to death,
You don't have to resort to secret addictions. 


I would tell you to OD on God, but that really isn't possible. 


Use God as your drug to counteract the bad,
Use His word to cut away the bitterness around your heart,
Use Prayer to choke out the voices in your head that tell you you're not worth it,
Let GOD be your addiction. 


Don't let the self-centeredness of your hurting heart convince you that you're the only one going through this.


I've tried it that way. 


It's a dead end.

Your Perfect Place.

Have you found that place?                 
      
That place where you are perfectly calm; perfectly content. 


That place where there are no expectations, no pressure on your                             shoulders; where there is no need for you to take on the world. 


What is that place like? 


Just sit and think about it for a moment. Too many of us get so caught up in the stress of life and forget how to actually live life: how to enjoy it for all its worth. 


I can only ask you this question, because I have been asking myself about this.


As I sit in a cold bedroom, with the wind howling outside my window, I listen to songs that pull at my heart. 

They are what most people would describe as "depressing" songs: Songs that make you want to ask "Why am I here?" 
They are songs that make you think. 


I like songs that make me question myself. That make me question my motives and my inspirations. 


I think everyone has a time in their life when they ask "Wait, where am I?" 


And they don't mean physically. They mean emotionally. They mean, "where am I in this mess of life that I call home?"


Honestly, you are the only one who can answer that question.


It is because of your choices that you are where you are. Ultimately, even if bad things have happened in your life, you cannot simply say "Well, that person played with my heart. It's their fault." 


It was your choice to decide on how to bounce back from that situation.

Did you use it to make you stronger? Bitter? 


Did you use that pain to push on to find your safe place?


The place that I want to call "perfect". 


As close to perfect as you can get on this earth.


What songs are you playing in your life? What songs are helping you push yourself to all that you can be?


Those bad situations that are in my life, because of other people? I am going to take them and use them for the good. 


I will choose to realize my "perfect place", and find time to sit in it.


I will choose not to take on the judgement of others: not to allow all the problems in my life take control of me.


I will choose not to wallow in self-pity. 


Will you choose?


Go, find your perfect place. The place where there is no pain, no sorrow, no feelings at all. 


Just calm. Just you. 

You Are

Dear Grandma,

You are missed.

It doesn't feel that long ago since we were all laughing with you over something silly that one of us, your grandchildren, had done, just the day before, or enjoying a cup of coffee with the doughnuts you had brought out for us every Thursday; dubbed "Grandma's day".

I don't think we ever cancelled one of those days. 

I am so glad.

The memories of coming in to your apartment with Grandpa and having a pizza party, or watching the Parade and then later that night, the fireworks, on the 4th of July. 

You even came on a vacation with us all: it was life changing for everyone.

Behind your deep blue eyes lay bundles of knowledge and wisdom that you bestowed upon us with love and energy: You always supported our latest passions in a craft or collection; always encouraged us to do what we loved.

You loved your family with all your heart, and it was plain to be seen. 

Your favorite color was purple: your favorite shade was lavender. 

You almost always wore a sweet T-shirt: and sometimes during the summer, you would wear a cotton button-up shirt. For church on Sunday, you would always dress up in a deep lavender short-sleeved shirt with purple slacks, and sandals during the summer, with just a touch of make-up. 

You loved to sit-back and watch everyone go about their business; it was very entertaining to you. 

I remember one Christmas, when you spent the night, we were washing some clothes for you. When we took them out of the dryer, there were streaks of a reddish-pink all over the inside of the dryer. You had left your lipstick in your pants pocket. (: Mom just did that today. 
You always loved hearing me sing; or the whole family. 

The last year you were with us for Christmas, I asked you, "So Grandma, what would you like for Christmas?" 

With a smile on your face, you replied, "I would like to hear all of your family sing together. That is my wish." 

I never had the chance to give you your wish. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I cannot even begin to tell you what a legacy you have passed on to us all. 


You ARE remembered. 


I miss you. 




http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qgUL3ut4gyQ


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dm6bo_YjEoU


           

                                                                                                                                                                       

Moving life

Ello! 
It has been over a month since I last wrote...much too long.      I know know, no excuses: 

but I have been crazy busy.      


What have I been doing? Haaaa.....where do I start?


*Christmas* 
Shopping, shopping, and then more shopping. 
Wrapping presents and preparing packages for family that lives out-of-state....I feel like I have been up to my ears in wrapping paper for the past couple of days. 

There was that moment of thinking that I was all done shopping, and then I would realize I had forgotten someone. Gotta love that moment, right?


*Band*
Two of my best friends and I have started a rock band. Nothing huge, but it's a start and we love it. No, we haven't played a 3-hour long concert on some fancy stage, but ey: You gotta start somewhere, right? 
We have started at....nursing homes, playing Christmas music for the elderly (I feel the need to add that we aren't using amps with over-drive and there isn't a drumset). Not a big deal, but a chance for us to play as a band, and that is important.   

*Family*
With Christmas comes family....and I have my sister, brother-in-law, and my niece coming out from Iowa to stay for a few days: then I have my sister from Colorado coming to stay for a week. I'm pretty excited. :) 
Adding a note to that, this will be our first Christmas celebrated with a whole, healthy family. It has been stressful, but since when has Christmas *not* been a bit stressful?

                                             


















*School*
I hate talking about school. We are on Christmas break. There ya have it.


*My music*

My Electric: A zebra-striped Cresent

In between the shopping, wrapping, and hanging out with friends and family, I have totally been enjoying "bonding" time with my electric and acoustic guitars, and I've been doing a leetle bit of song-writing. When I have time and money, I am hoping to take up playing bass for the band.      

                               

And that is how my life is moving right now. How is your's moving? 

I will get back into blogging more regularly once I get the time to. 

Written with love by 

~Emmi~

Why don't you be the writer, and decide the words I say....

Via Pinterest

The time for NaNoWriMo has come around again. I participated last year. It was a very memorable experience; from being on a sugar-high, trying to keep myself awake late into the night to reach my word-count goal, calling up my writing pal to let her know that my whole first chapter was somehow deleted and I had to start over, or calling my best friend with a panic attack, fearing for the life of one of the characters in my book, listening to her as she reminded that I was the author and I got to decide whether or not they lived; and the final joy of finishing the 50,000 word novel that was all written by me. Yes, it was definitely an AMAZING experience, and I think every person that aspires/wants to be a writer should try it, at least once.  


I am currently working on editing my NaNoWriMo                                                            
Novel, which, I have to be honest, is a bit of a chore for me. I talk a lot about reading, but I'm not a big book reader. I'm one of those people that has to be in a "mood" to read a book. And very rarely does that happen. I am also my worst critic, and a bit of a perfectionist. This causes for up to 15 minutes' work on just one sentence, causing me to hate reading my own writing all the more. 

Via Pinterest

I probably get the love of writing from my mother. She has always been into writing poems and journaling about her Bible time. Even when it comes down to writing a recipe on a card for a friend, she throughly enjoys it. It's not really worth asking where I got my love/hate relationship for reading from. Most of my family are avid readers, and for all I know, none of them share the same feelings for it as I do. But I have always loved writing. I don't remember exactly what age it started at. I think it was when I was finally old enough to figure out how to type something up on our old, huge computer. I think it started out just as simple as re-typing out of a children's story book, and playing "post office" with my younger siblings and writing pretend letters to Jane or Joe or Amanda, whomever the other was pretending to be at the time. Pen-pals were a must as well.

Via Pinterest

*Taking a deep breath*

Via Pinterest

All of this to say that as I was cleaning out all the junk from under my bed, I discovered grocery bags, shoeboxes, and stacks of random school tablets, some of them completely filled, some of them with only a few pages filled, full of stories, poems, and fun sentences that had never been fully finished. I mean, come on, The Ray Story, a story about a cowboy-sherrif in the 1800's that helps "clean up" the the town he just moved to, while spreading the Gospel of Christ; 

Me, working on "The Ray Story" in a hotel on vacation
in Colorado Springs in 2009

Stanley, the Little Blue Bird, an intended Christian Children's story series about a little blue bird named Stanley (Hence the title), with his little sister Cindy, and unknown friends (Unknown, because I never did get far enough into that series to give poor Stanley any friends. Poor bird, just stuck in the book with his sister and mother), having adventures and solving mysteries in their forrest. Then, my very first piece of work, The Missing Box (I know, I know, I was so creative with the title), a story using my childhood friends in the story, revealing an exciting tale (Well, it was exciting at the age of 9 or 10, anyways) of good friends on a hunt for "The Missing Box", holding their friendship treasures and supposedly secret paper. That is also an unfinished story. :(


There are so many more stories that I know are tucked away somewhere under my bed or in a trunk; so many more in a folder on my laptop, and a few others yet that were lost many years ago when our computer crashed. And yet, I haven't stopped writing. There are so many poems, so many songs, so many children's series' that have yet to be written. I thought that it was ironic, funny, and yet appropriate, that I find all of these stories and musings that I had written over the years, on the first day of National Novel Writing Month. And so, I share this originally-going-to-be-a-short-story with you, fellow writers and readers, because I thought that it was just too good to keep to myself.  


Why don't you be the artist, 
and make me out of clay,
Why don't you be the writer,
and decide the words I say,
'Cause I'd rather pretend, 
I'll still be there at the end,
Only it's too hard to ask,
Won't you try to help me. 
~Ellie Goulding~


~Written with love 
                by Emmi~