A Word after a Word after a Word is Power

A Few Bleepity-Bleeps

2009-12-07T10:57:00.003-06:00

I have always been familiar with the story where Jesus feeds the 5,000. What a sweet ordeal not only for those being fed but also for the disciples to see! However, just as the disciples are standing around rubbing their stuffed bellies slappin’ skins talking about how Jesus is the man, Jesus tells them to go away. He tells them to go “to the other side” of the lake while he takes time to pray..(Yes, rest assured…even Jesus needed a break every now and then…J) While the disciples are at sea, mumbling who knows what under their breaths because they didn’t get to stay for the after party, things get worse.

The winds pick up, the rain starts to pour, and the waves start climbing. This is no Missouri weather where it’s just a 20-minute squall that disappears as quickly as it appears. No, this continues for hours. From what I gather it starts sometime in the evening and persists until “the fourth watch of the night” (Matt. 14.25) which is anywhere between three and six in the morning. So for almost the entire night, these poor disciples are tossed around violently. I can assume, presumably with much accuracy what they were thinking.

“I can’t believe this!” “How could Jesus have left us?” “Why did he make us ride in a storm?” “Where is he when we need him?” “Is he going to save us?” I’d venture to guess even a few “bleepity-bleepity-bleeps” slipped out, but maybe I’m saying that to make me feel better about myself. Either way, one question lingered over their heads, “Is God going to take care of me?”

So many Christians experience the depth of their spirituality in terms of mountaintop experiences, miracles, or smooth sailing times. They become almost intoxicated with having everything work out in all ways at all times. Maybe they are smart enough or rich enough or pretty enough, to satisfy their own needs without the presence of a savior. Maybe they are spiritual enough to procure answers to every prayer. Maybe they are wise enough to not get bogged down by temporal circumstances and to maintain emotional and mental stability all the time. But let’s face it…most of us aren’t.

Here we have the disciples, who were on a mountaintop experience just hours earlier, now being thrashed around by the waves. Now they are questioning, “Is he going to take care of us?” They clearly knew he had the capacity to do so. Did Jesus really care about them that much when he basically bulldozed them out of the festivities only for them to get pummeled by a storm? Did he really care about them that he waited until the fourth watch, nearly the last possible second to show up?

The story ends with Jesus coming to them walking on the water. They of course freak out. Seriously, who does that? Jesus comes, but in their estimation he was late. They weren’t sure why he had sent them in the first place. It felt dreadful to be battling rains and winds and waves in the absence of his presence. But finally he comes.

“Is God going to take care of me?” is the cry that has resonated from the depths of my soul as I have been caught in this senseless storm the past month. It doesn’t mean I am a faithless Christian. It doesn’t mean that I am not smart enough to trust him. It doesn’t mean that whatever negative thing super-Christian says I am because I am asking such a silly question. It just means that I am asking it. That I wonder. And that I have no choice but to hold on so I can experience the affirmative answer. I stay in the boat and wait for Jesus to come. Maybe I will end up like Peter walking on the water with him, or maybe like the other disciples, sitting in the boat. Sitting, standing, rowing, walking, wading, whatever it is that I do…I know this: Jesus always comes.

Believing the Intangible Invisible

2009-12-07T10:55:00.001-06:00

I have struggled the past couple weeks. With sadness and fear. And also with questioning God. Luckily I have formed a new mantra of sorts. “I believe in the God who will give me the desires of my heart.” Sometimes I chant it with an overwhelming faith and it brings tears to my eyes, and other times I say it while the dueling thoughts of faith and fear duke it our on the forefront…what do I believe today? I do believe in the God who will give me the desires of my heart. But maybe like 40 percent. But trust me…it’s better than the 1 percent I had a couple nights ago…

I’ve got no answers, a blurred vision, and apparently someone by my side. That is what I believe with my whole heart. I believe that the Lord of Lords is sitting on my bed (well make it a couch rather…), the intangible-invisible, as I write with such a nonsensical fury and passion, as he probably giggles (that is if God ‘giggles’) at my wordiness. And he is probably thinking, “You’re going to laugh again one day Lindsey. You’re going to laugh and smile and dance and shout. And you’re going to trust me, and you’re going to know that I AM the God who will give you the desires of your heart. That your faith does not go unnoticed, whether it’s 1 percent or 99 percent. That I don’t view your addictions, sins, and screw ups as stumbling blocks that would prevent me to move in you. I want you to LIVE, SHOUT, DANCE…with the freedom that I gave you…that I want you to have!”

And that is what I believe. It sounds like a fairy tale, or like a cheesy Saturday morning cartoon where the roadrunner always wins. But I like this fairy tale because it keeps my faith moving like ants in my pants…it gives me wonder, and marvel, and mystery. It makes me heart leap with joy for no reason and forms a lump in my throat for the same reason…

Lord, I don’t know what I’m doing and I admit there are sins in my life, but I love you and want to continue to trust you…whether 1 percent or 99 percent. Right now, my faith has been bumped up to 70 percent. You never fail to amaze me. You never fail to surprise me. You never fail to amuse me. You never fail to make my heart leap (I don’t think I have ever thought of you more like a roller coaster than right now..) But I love you! And I believe that you-the God I believe will give me the desires of my heart-love me more than I can ever imagine.

Waiting...

2009-01-06T21:00:00.005-06:00

Waiting. I have had several discussions about waiting lately. I think of waiting as such a negative thing. When one waits, it is normally not a pleasurable experience. Waiting is a test of patience. But what if we didn't ever wait? What would we miss out on? Just like many Americans I ventured to the mall the weekend before Christmas for some last minute shopping. My sister was driving, and seemingly every parking spot was taken. We would spot a car pulling out, dart over to it as quickly as possible, stop, turn on the blinker and wait for the car to leave. Of course, in the Holiday traffic frenzy and parking frustrations we would have cars whip in there before we could. It was obvious we were there first. However, they didn't care because they wanted that spot and thought they needed it more than we did. It was frustrating. We were waiting.

This went on for a good 20 minutes. We were getting ripped out of spaces, and we were at the point where we were just going to settle for parking across the road at a different shopping center. It was then, when we were heading away that we saw a car pull out of the very first space, directly in front of the door. My sister turned her red car in there with ease. It felt so perfect. It felt so right. We were so excited we cheered. We high fived. We laughed. A man walking by the outside of our car even stared at us because he heard our excitement. The waiting had paid off. All the time spent trying to park in a mediocre parking space worked out for a reason. There was a spot for us, we just had to be patient to get it.

This got me thinking, how often do we wait on Gods plans for our lives like that? How often is it that we wait around trying to fit our lives into a mold that it isn't supposed to be in? We get frustrated because our friends and family members get these opportunities that we don't. They get to park their car in the space before you, even though you were the one waiting on it. You try. You fail. You want to give up. And then, at the very last moment there is a glimmer of hope. You find something that feels right. You try it. You put your plans in the space where they are supposed to reside. They are in God's hands, and once they are there you know that's where they are supposed to be. You know that none of the other options worked because they weren't supposed to. The excitement is overwhelming knowing your life is where it is supposed to be. You can't help but let out the joy. You shine. People on the outside stare wondering why you are so happy. They walk by you and wish they had what you did. Waiting? Yea I think it's worth it.

An Update

2009-01-06T00:23:00.008-06:00

So, it has been a long time. A little too long. A lot has happened since the last time I posted. Looking back, it is crazy to think that I have been at CofO for a year! Time has flown by! This place has molded and mended me beyond belief. I can't say for sure what my life would have been like if I hadn't come here, and frankly, I don't care to know. It's an incredible feeling knowing you are where God wants you to be. It's an incredible feeling knowing that God is in control. It's an incredible feeling rediscovering God's grace!

I plan to try to keep this somewhat updated from here on out. I stay so busy it is hard to sit down and write, but it's something I need to do! And since it is has been so long...here is my second semester of college in a nutshell! Enjoy the video! And I plan on making a real blog soon!

Just a Girl

2008-04-08T17:13:00.002-05:00

I`m just a girl,
I`m just a girl who laughs too much
Who smiles in the worst of times.
I`m just a girl with a huge heart
but who protects it a little too closely.
I`m just a girl who tells silly jokes
and who tells my mom every April Fools Day that I am pregnant.
I`m just a girl who loves to learn
and has so much learning to do.
I`m just a girl that doesn't try hard enough
but enjoys working hard.
I`m just a girl who can't let someone down
and will break my back keeping promises.
I`m just a girl with too many friends
but not too many relationships.
I`m just a girl who loves to love
and loves to be loved.
I`m just a girl.

I`m just a girl
I`m just a girl who loves naps on cloudy days
and sun on my skin
I`m just a girl who is passionate about the Special Olympics
and have had my heart formed by people with mental dissabilities.
I`m just a girl who loves to be active
and who can't turn down delicious food.
I`m just a girl who loves photographing Gods glory
and who can't smile regularly in a picture.
I`m just a girl who dances often
like nobody is around.
I'm just a girl who sings loudly
like God is my only audience.
I'm just a girl who loves to play in mud
and loves taking long showers
I`m just a girl who is simple on the outside
and complex as a spider web on the inside.
I'm just a girl who doesn't get enough sleep,
but wouldn't trade those sleepless nights for the world.
I`m just a girl who is loud and outgoing
but who loves to have alone time
I`m just a girl who isn't perfect,
but knows how to learn from my mistakes.
I`m just a girl.

I`m just a girl
I`m just a girl who doesn't read my bible regularly,
but enjoys studying religion.
I`m just a girl who doesn't always fit in,
but is accepted in Jesus Christ.
I`m just a girl who isn't worth much,
but was bought for a high price.
I`m just a girl who has a wonderful family,
but I have been chosen and adopted.
I`m just a girl who has little riches,
but I have direct acces to the throne of grace.
I`m just a girl who lives in a small town,
but my permanent residence is awaiting my arrival.
I`m just a girl who has little strength,
but can do all things through Christ.
I am just a girl who is filthy, rotten, impure and unholy
but I am God's temple.
I am just a girl.

It's official-I am going crazy

2007-12-21T00:20:00.000-06:00

I had a dream last night that I had a piece of chicken for a pet. A piece of fried chicken actually. But it was a living and breathing piece of chicken nonetheless. If my memory serves me right, it was a chicken breast. Possibly a thigh, not a leg. The fried chicken leg is so over rated. But, it was totally cooked and breaded possibly with shake 'n bake. The chunk of chicken didn't have a name. That's a real shame. It also didn't have a face. It was a fowl of few words. It didn't poop, which in my book makes for an excellent pet.

Chicken (what we will call my pet for the sake of the dream) and I hung out with other pet lovers. Chicken and I were at the park with another person, who happened to be a mix between sweet Lisa Cozzens and Wendell Bailey. Two people that have greatly impacted my life. Anyway, Wendell Cozzens kissed his/her pet, which happened to be Dartimus' dog-Susan. I remember being completely grossed out that they kissed their pet, although no one ever mentioned how weird or gross it was that I had a fried chicken thigh as a pet. Then, Wendell Cozzens fed Susan lunch which consisted of a Pear, Sprite and Compound W...

Chicken and I were weirded out so we left. We walked by a homeless man (Ethan Forhetz from KY3.) He didn't hassle me for booze or money, so as far as i`m concerned he was a nice homeless man. Jim Jim Jame Jame was angry that there was a homeless in town so she put out city ordinances saying not to give to the homless man. What was even worse was she put up a huge sign right beside him on the sidewalk with an X through his face (which she painted...possibly with water color or finger paint.) Chicken and I watched as homeless man stared at her looking completely defeated. Seriously, Jim Jim could have waited to put up her sign until homless man went to take a crap behind the Kum and Go. Whatever.

Chicken and I continued on our journey. By this time I had to carry chicken because it was tired of walking. I carried it all the way to Canada where I finally woke up after dining with Queen Latifa.

In other news, it's almost Christmas. I probably won't blog until after the Holidays so from chicken and I....HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

The Global Village

2007-12-09T17:39:00.000-06:00

I have always known I was blessed. My parents provide for me. I have a house, a bed, I am well fed every day. I have a truck of my own, not to mention the three other cars in my family. I have a cell phone with unlimited text messaging. I have a nintendo Wii with over $200 worth of games. I live in a country where I can choose to be whatever religion I please without persecution. I have free speech. I have an education not only through High School but I have stared my journey with college as well. No, my family is not rich. No, they aren't in debt over there ears. But, I have everything I ever need. I may not have as much the next person, but I am still a minority for what I do have.

If we could shrink the Earths population to a village of precisely 100 people, with all the existing human ratios remaining the same, it would look something like the following:

There would be:

Ethnicity
57 Asians
21 Europeans
14 from the Americas (North and South)
8 Africans

Sex
52 would be female
48 would be male

Religion
70 would be non-Christian
30 would be Christian

Race
70 would be non-white
30 would be white

Relative Wealth, Education, Health
6 people would possess 59% of the entire world's wealth (and all 6 would be from the United States)
80 would live in substandard housing
70 would be unable to read
50 would suffer from malnutrition
1 would be near death
1 would be near birth
1 would have a college or university degree
1 would own a computer

So, this has me thinking. What do I take for granted every single day? Half of the worlds population lives on 2$ a day. I am blessed.

Coke and Fudge

2007-10-19T15:43:00.000-05:00

Things change so quickly.

Years ago, I would have never imagined you would be doing this. You always were the mouthier one, the tougher one. Although I could beat you in arm wrestling you were turly the stronger one. You were smart. You were going to be a lawyer. You could talk your way out of a paper bag...and if that failed...you sure as hell would fight your way out.

We rode bikes until the sun went down...and then rode some more. We pedaled from your house to mine to jump on the trampoline. Then we grabbed those bikes once more and pedaled back to your house for a game of Monopoly. Your sister would play. You both told me to be the banker. I cheated. You thought I was such a good Monopoly player...I was truly just a sneaky crooked banker.

Remember when we rode bikes all day? It was hot. It was Summer. We stopped at Casey's to air up our tires. After hours of riding, we decided it was time to head home. We almost got to your house, then we pooped out. We only had about 1/4 a mile to go...but instead we laid in your neighbors driveway. How long did we lay there together? Your dad finally came looking for us. He found us down the road, loaded our bikes into the back of the truck and took us home to eat fudge and drink coke. I made you laugh...you spewed the fudge and coke out your nose.

We went sledding. I`m sure you remember. We couldn't walk for days. Why did my parents allow us to sled down such a steep slope? It was fun...until the accident. : ) Hey, we didn't know plastic red sled would take a drastic, sharp turn off course. I tried to stop us with my leg. It didn't work...it only ripped my leg backwards. You tried to steer with the rope attached for steering. It broke. We hit the Hay Bale full force. You flew off the sled, into the air, and landed straddling the Hay Bale. You took most of the impact, I just got thrown on to the ground, and I knew my leg had to be broken. We laid there for a long while. Dad finally made it down to us and helped us up. We went back to my house and ate meatballs. You wanted to cry, but wouldn't. After you got home that night your mom said you bawled because you were so sore. You thought you had to be strong in front of me.

In eigth grade we took shop together. You pulled me into the bathroom and told me all about the night before. Michelle and Jerod drove you two around in the back of the car. He was two years older. You thought it was fun and cool. I thought it was weird that you were okay with the fact that two people were in there with you. By the way, i`m pretty sure he is gay now. No offense to you. You were always the first to do things. In fifth grade you were the talk. We made clubs. We talked about the red cat. Weird.

We began to drift apart. I stopped wanting to hear about your Friday night stories. You knew I didn't approve. We stopped hanging out. You traded me for boys. We weren't innocent anymore. We went through High School as friends...but not best. I taught you how to play tennis when we were sophomores. As fate would have it, we ended up as doubles partners our Senior year. You challenged me twice for the number one position. If you would have played your freshman year...you may have beat me.

On the court we were all each other had. A sport that brought us back together to rely on each other once again. We were a great team. You took risks, ran quick, hit hard. I played the net knocking down volleys, and serving aces. We complemented each other well. You would get frustrated. I told you it was okay and to keep playing hard. You never gave up. Tennis had united us together again.

We started talking a lot. You told me secrets and didn't force me to share mine. Our last day of College Composition we both cried. Something neither of us rarely do. You told me that you admired and looked up to me. You were stunned at my faith and how strictly I followed my beliefs.
It meant a lot to me.

You leave for the military soon. I knew you would be an amazing lawyer, but didn't think you would be a JAG officer. You are going beyond what you have to. You are putting your life in danger so that one day my children will have the freedom to ride their bikes all day until I get worried and have to go find them. I respect you more than you will ever know. You are doing something that I would never have the courage to do. You will fight and defend. You will probably never read this, but you are amazing and have taught me so much about myself and about life.

Go be the best marine you can be!!!

Thank the Good Lord I`m Not Buddhist

2007-10-01T22:32:00.000-05:00

Man Buddhism is a no crap religion. Have you ever tried being Buddhist? Yea, thats what I thought. I haven't actually tried being Buddhist or anything but just by looking into their beliefs I realize it is deffinately not for me! : )

Siddhartha Gautama, who later came to be Buddha after he was fully enlightened, believed humans needed to eliminate suffering. How better to do such a task than to find the root of suffering. That root is desire. The desire of lust, anger, possessiveness...the list can go on and on. So, in order to eliminate this we must first realize what is causing the emotion and get rid of it.

I wish it were that easy. The last time I was angered was while driving. Now, I don't know why anyone 90 years and over needs to be driving a car. Yes, she was a sweet elderly woman driving but nonetheless there was NO REASON for her to drive 50 mph IN THE PASSING LANE! Seriously! I guess it's cute the old woman can still drive...but it's not cute when you get stuck behind her!!! WOMAN, park your car and go live in a geriatrics ward!

Oh no, lets remember when I get angry I need to choose what is causing the problem and get rid of it. Okay...time to do the unthinkable. Rear end the old lady off the highway and carry on with my business. That's all I have to do. One swift tap to her bumber and it will send her flying into the grass on the side of the highway. Problem solved right?

Gee, Buddha obviously didn't live in the 21st century.

NEW POST!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2007-09-13T01:11:00.000-05:00

LOOK TWO BELOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Digga Digga Digga Digga WEEEE

2007-08-15T20:56:00.000-05:00

Around this time last year I stepped into a world that was unfamiliar. A world that taught me more lessons in a year than what I thought was possible. A world full of bright faces, cheery laughter and hugs. A world that is so unique it sucked me in deeper and deeper with each passing day. The same world I couldn't wait to enter at 11:25 every other day, because I knew that if I was having a rough day my boys would brighten it right up.

I primarily worked with two boys. They were both in kindergarten, and I loved both of them like family. I would do anything for them. I did everything in my power to make them feel loved, make them feel accepted, and safe. The first boy I grew to love was Jacob. The first few days Jacob would just stare at me with his shifty blue eyes. However by the middle of the year he would curl up in my lap to watch Magic School Bus, yank on my arm if he thought I was giving the others more attention than him, and try to whisper secrets to me even though he rarely spoke to the rest of the adults in the room. Everytime Jacob did well I would have him give me thumbs. And thumbs consits of more than just "thumbs up", thumbs is sticking our thumbs in the air and then rubbing them together. Jacob was the man.

Throughout the year I loved watching him grow. He went from not speaking at all, to spitting out some when he had to, all the way to saying "excuse me" when he would burp. I loved hearing him talk. The voice of this 5 year old little man was similiar to the chirp of a bird; real high pitched and very difficult to understand. I loved him nonetheless.

One day in April, shortly after I had gotten over to Jacobs classroom I walked him up to the office with another teacher. Jacobs aunt had come to pick him up. When we reached the office, we learned Jacobs house had burnt down and they had lost everything. The purple squishy ball I had gotten him for his birthday, his favorite red shirt with Lightning McQueen covering the front, all of his toy cars which he idolized, and his new foam bat and ball. All of it was gone. I didn't see him for over a week after that. My heart went out to his family and what made it even worse was knowing there wasn't much I could do to help.

When Jacob finally returned to school I was so happy to see him again. The feeling was mutual because when I walked in the room, Jacob ran to me, jumped in my arms, and wrapped his new black leather cowboy boots around my waist. Then he just stared at me with the same blue eyes that I had been trying to read all year. He traced his tiny little hand through my hair and tugged at my pony tail. I pointed to his new Lightning McQueen shirt and with a grin he repeated "Wighting Mcween!" I was so happy to see him again. However in the mean time, I had begun working with another boy. His name was Draco. I had been working with Draco all year also, but due to Jacobs desire for my attention I had spent less one on one time with him.

I could hear Draco coming from a mile a way. Digga digga digga digga digga digga WEE WEE. Digga digga digga digga digga digga EEEEE EEEE. Draco was autistic. He didn't speak, except for "NO!" which he used often. His blond bowl cut shaded his brow and he squinted his eyes when he did not like something. When he would become excited he would jump up and down with his tiny hands flopping at his sides. He giggled. His smile lit up the room, and his scream forced those around to cover their ears. The words "SIT DOWN" sent him into a tizzy because it was hard for him to sit for long periods of time. He would rather wonder around the room chanting "digga digga" or "hmmmmm EEE EE WEE!" than anything else.

When Draco was around one could gaurentee the floor to be clean because thats where he would rather sit. The cold tile was his place of choice, especially when it was dirty. The boy would find any dirt on the floor, gently pinch it between his tiny thumb and pointer finger and slowly release watching the tiniest part of the Earth fall back into place.

At recess I didn't have to watch for him to run off like many of the others. I knew I could find him in the gravel at the end of the slide. On a rare occasion he would go down the big metal slide and cheer "WEEEEEEEEE" all the way down. Once when Air Evac visited the elementary to show them the plane, Draco jumped off my lap and began pulling my arm away from the plane because the noise was too much. He clenched my arm with one fragile hand and his ear with the other. Tears began to roll down his face and I could tell he just wanted away. I swooped him in my arms, carried him up the hill and to the slide where we spent the rest of the time. After that, I wold like to think that deep down he knew I would protect him. Even though he didn't speak, I learned to hear what he wanted threw movements and tugs on the hand.

However the school year ended and I only had the chance to see him splashing around in the City Pool. Once when I was lifeguarding he came up, threw my rescue tube out of the way and reached his arms in the air for me to pick him up. He had found a familar face. The last time I saw Draco was the end of June.

Two nights ago however, mom called with news that shattered my heart. While Draco's family was on the way to his first grade orientation, their car was struck head on by an elderly couple. Draco was in the back seat, securely buckled into his car seat. However by some happening the collision broke his little neck and killed Draco. Everyone else in the car, including his little brother were completely fine. In fact, Draco didn't even have a scratch on him. Although somehow it claimed his young innocent life. Unlike Jacob, I will never again have the chance to tickle his stomach until he laughs. I will never feel the tug of his hand when he wants to play in the sand, I wont ever see him jump up and down when he the excitement is too much for him to handle. I won't ever be able to see his blond hair shag gently over his forehead. I won't ever be able to see his face again. And I know without a doubt Draco will live in my heart forever.

Tomorrow is the funeral. I don't know if I will attend. I don't know if I can. I don't know how long it will take for me to not think about him. I am still waiting to realize that it was all a misunderstanding and he is still alive out there somewhere. Although deep down, I know he is in a much better place, where living with autism doesnt put him at a disadvantage. I can't help but think about his family. His young mother who talks to me ever so gently at Pizza Americana. I wonder about his little brother and how much of Draco he will remember when he is older. I pray for the family because I know they are shattered. I pray for everyone who knew this amazing little boy and hope they find comfort and strength to realize he truly is in a better place. I loved Draco and will miss him very much.

Please keep the family in your prayers!!!

Audio A = LOVE!

2007-08-07T23:26:00.001-05:00

You're sins are erased, and they are no more, they're out on the ocean floor.

PRAISE JESUS! : )

It was a rainy day...

2007-07-28T18:38:00.000-05:00

My family left to get groceries in West Plains. I wanted to take pictures. I held a pet photo shoot.

This is Grey.

He wanted my attention all to himself. However, Ichi wanted attention too!

He thought he had to put his face to the lens. Ichi has a sister.

Her name is Jiggles. Jiggles and Grey do not get along.

However, Grey enjoys bathing Ichi.

Jiggles enjoys eating. And ignoring the little dog.

This is Louie. He was expensive. Sometimes he wishes he was an outside dog.

Like Toby. Toby seems happy to be in a pen. : ( Him and Grey share secrets.

Although whatever Toby had to say...

Obviously shocked Grey. So...

We went in our home.

On Poppitz hill, where we spent the night trying to photograph Chubby.

Although, he did not want to come out of hiding. : (

THE END!!!

Just a Little Bit Better

2007-07-27T15:34:00.000-05:00

Swinging: One of my favorite past times. Why is that? What about swinging makes me love it so much? I remember when I was little and I was scared to swing too high. That was until I saw daddy give an "underdog" to Casey. You know the move where the pusher pushes extra hard and then runs underneath the swing. After I witnessed the maneuver I couldn't wait to experience it for myself. After that day in the park I loved going as high as possible.

I would sit in that rubber seat with my eyes on one thing...the bar above. I knew, if I pumped my legs hard enough and fast enough I could flip myself right over that bar. I could imagine it in my mind. It would be wonderful! And, I knew it was possible because when Bam-Bam pushed Pebbles on the Flinstone swing, Pebbles sailed over with no problems.

No matter how hard I tried I could never swing high enough to make me flip over the bar. I came to terms, and loved swinging nonetheless. There is something about swinging, still that I love. It's not because daddy is there giving me underdogs or because I have a hope of someday flipping over the bar. There is something that makes me feel weightless. Something makes me feel invincible. Something about swinging that makes me forget everything. Something about swinging that takes me back to my childhood when a scrape on my knee was my biggest worry and was easily cured by momma applying a band-aid.

Is that why I love swinging? Because it makes me forget any problems in my life? Because it's the one spot that brings back memories I was afraid I had forgotten. It's the one spot that seems to clear my mind. It's the spot where I can feel the wind blowing through my hair, my legs propelling me higher towards the heavens. It's one of many spots on Earth that makes everything in life seem just a little bit better.

Disclaimer
I have nothing wrong with me. As a matter of fact my life is close to perfect. I just wanted to write about swinging! : )

25 things that made me happy today...

2007-07-18T00:31:00.000-05:00

I DIDN'T HAVE TO WORK!

I didn't wake until 11:00 a.m.

I didn`t get up out of bed until 11:30 a.m.

I played 3 games of online Spades and won every game.

I ate a delicious sandwich...with all the toppings! : )

I watched an episode of "Boy meets World" with my sissy! (Who will be 20 on Friday!)

I bought sissy a McDonalds sweet tea and brought it to her at work.

Wireless Internet and my laptop. Which include...

Facebook

Myspace

Post A Secret

Cleaned truck. Vacuum, wash, new air freshener. The whole 9 yards.

I shaved my legs.

New "Lucky" perfume.

Made another trip out to church camp.

Saw and caught up with an old friend I hadn't seen in ten years.

This man..........................................................................................

18. Singing Father Abraham with 3rd and 4th graders.

19. The man to the right telling me I was always one of his favorite campers. : )

20. Eating at Subway with Jordan.

21. Dr. Lewandowski telling my mom how "neat" I am. Then telling his "apprentice" how I am the type of person people just want to talk to. : )

22. Singing Audio Adrenaline loudly, all alone in my truck.

23. Being told i`m a good listener.

24. Memorizing a new bible verse.

25. Recieving a late night text from a certain someone that only says, "Sweet Dreams."

Today...today was an amazing, blessed by God day!

I don't mind if you got something nice to say about me...

2007-07-08T23:20:00.000-05:00

And I enjoy an accolade like the rest. And you can take my picture and hang it in a gallery, of all the "who's who's" and so-and-so's that used to be the best at such and such. It wouldn't matter much. I won't lie, it feels alright to see your name in lights .We all need an "atta boy" or "atta girl." But in the end I'd like to hang my hat on more besides the temporary trappings of this world.

I want to leave a legacy, how will they remember me? Did I choose to love? Did I point to You enough to make a mark on things, I want to leave an offering, A child of mercy and grace who blessed Your name unapologetically and leave that kind of legacy.

The above is only a small part of one of my favorite songs, "Legacy", by Nichole Nordeman. Last week I was questioned with what one would believe to be a simple queston."What did you do in high shool that will carry on? What did you do to leave a mark on the High School and the world?"Whew, it really made me think. What did I do to make a difference?

Who cares that I played varsity tennis all four years of high school. Who cares I was voted Class Clown and Best Outlook on Life. Who cares I was president of this or that!!! Who cares!?

I want to leave my mark in other ways. I want to leave a legacy. I want to be the person that when I am no longer on this world people will still remember me for what i've done to leave a mark. I want to be the Rachel Scott from Columbine that did not renounce her faith even though it cost her life. I want to be more, leave more, and acheive more than others think are possible. I want to leave a Legacy.

Senior Pictures = A day that will go down in History

2007-06-28T19:12:00.000-05:00

SO I looked happy enough in these pictures but want to know how I really felt? ....

Thats right. I was sicker than a dog during my senior pictures. I threw up five time, and was about to faint the entire time. I have never been that sick in my entire life! That was one miserable day! But I will never forget having my senior pictures taken!

I`m gonna start the day early, maybe like a rocket on fire!

2007-06-23T13:02:00.000-05:00

You know, I have found that the days I do the most, work the hardest, sweat like never before, and wear myself down physically, are the days that really make me think. Those are the days that in a way, I enjoy.

Thursday I worked 16 hours straight. Grant it, 3.5 of them were at the Y where I didn't do much but nonetheless, it was work. At the beginning of the day I was at the pool where we had over 400 children, when our capacity is only 300. It was hectic. At T-Ball, my last job for the day, it was flaming hot and 3 out of the 4 coaches didn't show up. Therefore, I had to do their job AND mine. It was rough.

After the games at 8:30, I knew I was well on my way to dehydration. I sped to McDonalds where I got that's right......an ice water. At that point my mind was spinning 100 miles a minute. My hands were shaking, my head ached incredibly bad, and I knew if I didn't get water soon, I could possibly be hospitalized. It was scary. I had never felt that way before.

As I pulled out onto the road after retreiving my water, I couldn't guzzle it fast enough. The water was so refreshing, and replenishing. I thanked God at that moment for the water he had provided. : ) I know it's kind of cheesy but it really made me thankful. It made me think of all the people in other countries that DON'T have fresh water. The people that work 16 hours in the sun EVERYDAY, because they don't have a choice! I pictured the small, malnourished children in my mind, with their fragile bones poking out, and their large brown eyes wishing, hoping for help. I can't even begin to imagine how much more they would have been thankful for that water than I was. Even just a tiny drop on their dry tongues. It put everything in perspective.

What would that be like? Why do I take everything I have for granted.

I`m glad I experienced that day. Every once in a while, it's good just to sit back and thank God for how good he is to me.

*Lord prepare me, to be a sanctuary, pure and holy, tride and true. With thanksgiving, I will be a living, sanctuary, for you.*

Hmm

2007-06-16T18:01:00.000-05:00

A couple of hundred years ago, Benjamin Franklin shared with the world the secret of his success. Never leave that till tomorrow, he said, which you can do today. This is the man who discovered electricity. You think more people would listen to what he had to say. I don't know why we put things off, but if I had to guess, I'd have to say it has a lot to do with fear. Fear of failure, fear of rejection, sometimes the fear is just of making a decision, because what if you're wrong? What if you're making a mistake you can't undo? The early bird catches the worm. A stitch in time saves nine. He who hesitates is lost. We can't pretend we hadn't been told. We've all heard the proverbs, heard the philosophers, heard our grandparents warning us about wasted time, heard the damn poets urging us to seize the day. Still sometimes we have to see for ourselves. We have to make our own mistakes. We have to learn our own lessons. We have to sweep today's possibility under tomorrow's rug until we can't anymore. Until we finally understand for ourselves what Benjamin Franklin really meant. That knowing is better than wondering, that waking is better than sleeping, and even the biggest failure, even the worst, beat the hell out of never trying.

Oh how I love thee...

2007-06-12T21:54:00.000-05:00

When I hear six seven year olds screaming Get R' Done!

When someone says "Wendell" and everyone begins doing their own impersonation

When "going out to eat" means Sonic, McDonalds, or the Koreans

When the High School marching band played at the opening of McDonalds, which also doubles as a gas station.

When anyone speaks of "Mr. Blagg" everyone no matter the age says "Oh, the typing teacher? I had him!"

When "FFA" getting state recognition was the talk of the town.

When people (NOT ME) get caught sneaking out of the house by the cops and everyone knows EXCEPT their parents! : )

When telling where Willow is at...you name Olden, White Church, Pomona, Mtn. Grove, Cabool, Mtn. View and other surronding towns and the person is more confused than when you first began.

When telling where I live I say "Poppitz Hill" and all the partiers know EXACTLY where I am talking.

When it's exciting to make a run to West Plains because they have bowling, movies, and a Wal-Mart.

When the closest store we have to Wal-Mart is Alco, in which they practically charge you to walk in, but you have to shop there or drive thirty minutes to Wal-Mart.

When there are more churches than people.

When there is not a stop light in town...and the stop sign by school has chicken wire around it so it wont be cut down.

When most the town has an alfalfa field even though they are allergic to it.

When all the old men know the name of the quarter back and what number all the boys have, even if the team stinks!

When all through High School you say "No way am I going to MSU-WP, and yet 3/4 the class ends up there. : S lol

When you know that all of these things have to do with Willow Springs and you can't deny it.

When you are glad you grew up here and wouldn't have it any other way.....maybe....lol

"I will love you forever, like you for always, as long as i`m living, my baby you'll be"

2007-06-09T22:06:00.000-05:00

was the main line in my favorite childhood book. At least once a week I would climb up in Mom and Dads King waterbed, roll around untill I became situated and then demand mom read the book to me. I knew every word by heart, and could have easily recited the story to her without the book in hand, but like any four year old I enjoyed the pictures.

I miss those times, when reading a bedtime story would settle a dispute between her and I. When she was only angered at me for pulling the cats tail or calling my sister a bad name like "Butt hole!" I wish things were still that easy. Now we argue about my room, chores, and what time I SHOULD have been home. Arguments are not settled by reading bedtime stories and not even by apologies but me just saying "whatever!" and rolling my eyes like a complete valley girl, and walking away.

Sometimes I feel like she doesn't understand the life of an eighteen year old. She doesn't understand me wanting to spend the night out with my friends, why my room is somewhat messy, and she is hurt when I don't tell her every minute detail in my life. Sure, she was eighteen once too, but in great contrast she graduated at semester of her senior year and married my father the following February. The life of an eighteen year old to her is much different than what it is to me.

I don't want to take her for granted though because I know what happened to her when she was my age. The January before her wedding, her mother--my grandmother, passed away from a long battle with cancer. Everytime I begin to imagine the "perfect mother-daughter" relationship that only exists in movies and fairy tales, I am snapped back into reality where I realize how selfish I have been. I can't even imagine walking down the wedding isle without my beautiful mother there to watch every step. Watching her baby make one of the biggest decisions of her life. Her hazel eyes glowing from the lights of the candles around the church which she took upon herself to be placed precisely in each position.

As I sat by her tonight while she was working overtime as the secretary for Summer school, (to raise some extra money to buy me things like new school clothes, or cash to put on my down payment for college) I began to see a little more of myself in her. We were sharing an orange crush soda which she loaned me the sixty cents to buy, and eating my favorite chips in the whole world. The extra crunchy ones that could chip a tooth, but you keep chomping away nonetheless because they are so delicious. The radio was playing in the background and mom was singing along even though she didn't know the words. She was working hard at her computer and I was watching her every move. I watched how she spun around in her black wheely chair to fetch a paper, how she tilted her head slightly to the left when something seemed awry, how she picked up the cool orange crush can and took a huge slurp of the sweet liquid only to burp when she was finished. I watched every thing she did. Every little thing I jotted down in my memory so that one day, I can be just like her. I can give her grandchildren the same love, affection, morals, and discipline she has given me. Momma taught me everything that I truly need to learn in life.

Although we may have arguments, and I claim she doesn't understand me, I know deep down she does. She knows me as well as I know myself and to her I will always be her little "Linny!" For I know she will love me forever, like me for always, as long as she's living, her baby I will be.

Chile Today...Hott Tamale!

2007-06-07T14:52:00.000-05:00

I can't even begin to count the number of times I changed the "I want to be a _____, when I 'grow up'!" phrase. At first i`m sure it was something like a basketball player, princess, professional pony rider or cowgirl. I then moved on to more realistic dreams such as a garbage man, for the pure enjoyment of riding on the back of the garbage truck. (What can I say, i`m a country girl at heart!?) Around fourth grade when I realized garbage men don't have a promising lifestyle, I decided on a pediatrician. Yea, that sounded great! I loved kids! But what did I know...I WAS a kid! Shortly thereafter, when my 21 months older sister decided I couldn't be a pediatrician because that is what she wanted to do, it was time to pick a new future for myself.

After days, weeks, months of deliberation I had finally decided my career path. This was my first love and as an eleven year old decided it coult be my last. Basketball. I could play basketball in college, maybe enter the big leagues, and go on to be a hall of fame coach! The plan was flawless. At all of our fifth grade basketball games and practices I tried so hard and busted my butt. I became good enough that I was our teams point guard and was scoring points all over the place. However, all good things must come to an end. At the beginning of sixth grade, I was no longer the same hieght as the girls, and most of them towered over me, making it nearly impossible to shoot over like years past. It was time I once again gathered all the knowledge my little twelve year old brain knew and for a fifth and hopefully last time decided how I would spend my life. This resolution was just as important as any, and I knew this time it needed to be something I loved.

I stewed for weeks and weeks. The sixth grade carried on, not seeming to be concerned with my life path. Mrs. Lewis kept on teaching, wearing her "earthy" attire, and carrying on as she always had. Little did she know the inner variance burning deep within my heart. Then, like a sudden gust of wind, it hit me. We were playing one of Mrs. Lewis' improvisation games (she was into alternative teaching methods) and I was loving it. The class was listening intently to my jokes, which now I realize were as corny as ever. I was a Mexican weather reporter giving the forecast, "Chile today, hott tamale!", the class erupted in laughter. " Why did the Roman chicken cross the road? She was afraid someone would Caesar!" I loved the feeling of my peers laughing at me! Tears welling in their eyes when they couldn't laugh any harder. In the corner of the room, Mrs. Lewis was even laughing! Her coffee stained teeth flashing with each and every hearty belly laugh. It was great! This is what I wanted to do with my life! I was going to make people laugh! I was born to entertain!

I wasn't sure how I was going to do this, but I knew it was possible. I loved to act, but knew the chances of an agency hiring an overweight hillbilly, with little to no previous experience was about as likely to happen as God telling me I would have a virgin birth of the anti-christ. The odds weren't in my favor.

If I wasn't going to become a famous actress I at least wanted to make money. If I can't be famous, might as well be rich. As a sixth grader, I realized all of this. Quite a blow to a young impressionable mind. However, I was content for the time being. I realized the plans I had made in years past weren't holding up, so I might as well not make anymore untill I had a clearer grasp of the world. I did know however, that whatever I decided, wherever my path would lead, I was going to make good money, and love my job. Too bad these two don't always come hand in hand.

Fast forward five years. I am a junior in high school and now, now it's really time to begin pondering what I could do. I still held dear my goals set in sixth grade. Wealth, Entertainment, Fun. I spoke of political science and how I could work in Jefferson City, or even D.C. I could be a senator and push for change. However, I began to doubt myself . I began to doubt my ability in even having a job! Untill one day the words of the wonderful, wise, powerful lady I like to call "Mom" echoed in my head. " You should major in public relations. You are great with people and you can do so much with one of those degrees. You could work anywhere!" Yeah, that didn't sound like such a bad plan! Public relations it is. I for once in my life, felt like I had a small grasp on what was lying ahead. I was never one for surprises so at least knowing my college major helped.

When my senior year rolled around I felt prepared for the game. Do great in my speech class (which was a job in itself), and hone up on my writing skills in College Composition. With such a loaded schedule (which only consisted of four "real" classes) i thought it would be great to throw in something fun. Internship was calling my name. I wanted a fun internship, and really wasn't too concerned if it had anything to do with public relations or not. Therefore, I was going to intern the elementary P.E. coach. This would be great and I knew I would love it. However, like all of my other plans, this one failed too! The hour that I intended on the internship was the same hour the teacher was on lunch duty. New Plan...once again.

There was so many spots I coult intern, and I never once thought to myself "Hm, maybe all this is happening for a reason?" No, not once. Although a week into school, with no where to go during that block, I was talking to mom. She suggested "Maybe you could intern in Mrs. Barry's room? I don't know if they will let you though due to confidentiality, but we could check." Sounded great. Mrs. Barry was the elementary special education teacher. I have always had a soft spot for mentally handicapped children. Two years prior, I spent a week at "Handi-camp" where I aided mentally disabled adults in day to day events. I never before had felt so blessed by serving others. I realized no matter what I could be much worse off. I felt prepared and excited to enter Mrs. Barry's room pending approval. The approval came and a day later I found myself in a room of squealing children, Thomas the Train movies, random useless questions, and most of all hugs.

As the year pushed on, so did my imagination. I imagined myself in Mrs. Barry's shoes, trying to patiently teach and tend seven wondering minds. I began to question myself to see if I had what it would take to handle a classroom like that with as little help as she had. I formed a bond with each of the children and I know without a doubt my face lit up each time they hugged me, asked me to read them a story, or just came and climbed up in my lap for a rest. Every time I walked in the room and heard "It's a Lindsey day!" I knew there was no other place I would have rather been. I found the place that kept me the most sane, was the most INSANE place on campus. I loved everything that room encompassed.

The last day of my senior year was rough. Not because I was leaving everything I had known for 13 years, all the friendships I had grown, but because I had to walk out on seven faces that made my year worth while. The last time I walked out of Mrs. Barry's room and heard as the door shut behind me "WAIT COME BACK!" I knew I would miss those kids unlike I have never missed anything before. When the door shut behind me I couldn't walk fast enough away. Tears welled up in my eyes and my heart ached from leaving something so good behind. Little did those kids, or Mrs. Barry know, that they changed my life. They made me want to do something great in life. Something great for them, something great for myself, something great for all of the handicapped children out there that have never been given a chance.

However, I had already made up my mind. I was going to major in public relations because I could make money that way! I couldn't make money as a special education teacher! But now, it's just hitting me. The money may not be worth it. Really is it worth it?

Proverbs 19:21 " Many are the plans in a man's heart, but it is the LORD's purpose that prevails."

Jeremiah 29:11 "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

Gah...why can I not listen to the Bible!? : )

I can't believe I forgot!

2007-06-05T22:00:00.000-05:00

Sorry! I forgot to mention the most important subject matter of the day!!! Today...today is the day that Luigi "Louie" Turd Ferguson McElyea turned one year old! Congratulations little guy! Now it's time for you to grow up and not shred my shoes. Thank you and good luck in life. : )