Jesus loves me this I know...right?

I grew up singing "Jesus Loves Me". You can walk into just about any Christian bookstore and find some sort of knick knack that says "God loves you". It's such a basic concept in Christianity. I hear a lot of Christians use that word but in the same breath they will paint a picture of an angry wrathful God who will smite you down because you don't measure up.

I grew up afraid of God. Afraid of who he was. I didn't think he liked me very much. I would hear "God loves you" but never did I believe it. And I didn't realize that I didn't believe it. Not until last October.

In a conversation with a friend that started off on a different God topic, it somehow came down to love. I had seen something in this friend that I knew I didn't have but I couldn't put my finger on it. And then I got it, she loves God. Her love for Him and His love for her makes up who she is. It kind of surprised me when I realized that I didn't believe that God loves me. And I can't tell you how hard I fought this. It was inconceivable to me. How could God love me? When I think the things I do? When I act the way I do? When I turn my back on Him constantly? How is it possible that I can be loved by the Creator of the universe? I also fought it because I look around and see the chaos that is this world. I'm sorry but life can be a bitch. It can hurt. This has become a world where violence and pain are rampant. Values have gone out the window, the idea of marriage is a flippin' joke. Children are raped and killed. People are starving. It's hard to see the love is this mess.

But then I stopped and I realized, this wasn't the plan. God is not in some far off place watching all this crap go down and not caring. He cares. It hurts Him. This was supposed to be a world where we were a creation that takes delight in Him. Where we would love Him and receive His Love. But that's not what happened. Because he loves us he gave us free will. And we took it.We did this. We try and place the blame all on Him. We ask why and how he could let this happen when he is an almighty God, why can't he just step in and fix it? Well he did. He gave us Jesus. That's the solution. Isn't it funny how we have the answer to the problem and we can't see it?

God's love is incredible. It is so fundamental to who we are. It is the reason why we have hope. If we didn't have it then our entire existence would be pointless. He loves us. We don't deserve it but we have it. I finally understood that a few months ago. I can't tell you the exact moment when it clicked. But I just kinda woke up one day and I believed that God loved me. I got it. It is that love that gives me a purpose. He has been with me in every hurt. He was holding me and giving me strength to go on. It is His love that has protected me. That love has kept the wounds from being fatal. So yes I know that Jesus love me and it is only because of that love that I am able to live.

A procrastinator through and through

Ok, so this past quarter has been undeniably difficult, probably my hardest one yet. My “easy” class turned out to be, well, not so easy. I took what is quite possibly *crosses fingers* my final math class, English (the not so easy one) and sociology which turned out to be the single most pointless waste of time and money ever. Seriously, I didn’t learn one thing. Nothing. At all. Anyway, this quarter was hard. It also didn’t help that I was/am going though a personal transformation making these past 12 weeks very bipolar, but that’s beside the point. So all this to say that I have written all my finals, all my essays and quizzes andI could have been done with everything today. I could have. See I have this one last little math project to do. I had a plan last week, it was that I would write my final final on Friday, go home and pass out and not think about anything for the rest of the day and then on Saturday I would do this project at work because let’s face it, I have a lot of time to kill on Saturdays at The Trees. Instead, I chose to ignore my work and waste time playing chess with Dann ( I won two out of three by the way) and work on activating Rob’s new phone. I then proceeded to go home and watch a movie with my mom. I thought to myself, well I have all day Sunday to do it so I have plenty of time. Not so. Two minutes after walking out of church I get a text from my sister- in law asking if I want to go for a walk and do some errands with her. What do you think I chose to do? Be the responsible student or go have fun with a friend? I think the answer is pretty clear. And you know what? I don’t even feel a teeny tiny ounce of remorse because we had a perfectly wonderful walk and talk. Anyway then I went to Canada last night and saw my mom. That’s a pretty legit excuse I think. Today however, not so much. I’ve been out of class for six and a half hours and haven’t so much as glanced at my math book. It’s due on Wednesday so I figure I have lots of time. :)

I bid “Adieu”

Ok so I haven’t written anything in nearly a year….but that’s okay. I’m supposed to be doing English homework right now but I’ve still got two hours and fifty minutes before it’s due… so I have plenty of time. I’m in weird mood right now I will admit. It has finally hit me that I may indeed have to return to Canada. In four months. I’ve known for a while that this was a possibility but it was always something in the far off future, something that I would deal with later. Well, it’s later and now I have to do something. I have been praying that the Lord would make a way for me to stay but at the end of my prayer I always say “but your will not mine be done”. It’s one thing to say that but to mean it is what is challenging. I’m saying that I will go wherever God wants me to go. But can I say that every ounce of me is ok with that? Can I say that I’m willing to leave my family, my friends, this life that has been established, can I say that I can walk away from it and be alright with that? I don’t know. I have to admit that I have come to love my life here. I have parents and friends. I have a job that I love so much more than a job should be loved. There is a part of me that doesn’t want to go. That pleads with God to just let me stay. For some miracle to happen that the US government will come calling and say they missed something and that there is in fact a way for me to stay that doesn’t require marriage. There is a part of me that could be content here, a part that is terrified to leave. And I am crying at the thought of not being here. But then there is the other part of me. The part that will get me through this, the part that knows that God loves me and has a plan for me. A plan that has purpose, there must be a reason why my time has come to an end here. Maybe if I was to stay, I would become too content, too comfortable. And I wouldn’t accomplish God’s plan for my life. That thought is what is getting me through this. He is all I can hold on to. And he won’t let me down. I don’t want this to be the cliché “everything is going to be alright and everything is going to be rainbows and butterflies” but somehow, it’s going to be okay. It’s probably going to hurt, but when it does I will go running into His arms.
I’m thinking I could write a story about my three years here. Maybe I will. We’ll see.

That's a wrap folks.

Well. I just got out of writing my last final for the quarter. But this wasn’t just the end of a quarter, this was an end of an era. High school is over. Last night it started hitting me that this is it. And of course me being me, I started reminiscing. I remember walking into my parents room and begging them not to take me to preschool. That was fourteen years ago. That blows my mind. That’s almost a decade and a half. I can also remember being in grade one and thinking of school like a game and I was in level one. And next year I would be in level two. Now it’s game over. Ok, I’ll move away from the analogies. But for me this is actually a really big deal. For a while, finishing high school became a sort of pipe dream. Not a lot of people actually thought I would make it. But here I am. Done. Now what?

Hmm

I'm in my head a lot. I know this and I kind of like it about myself. I used to hate it because when I realized that I was doing it, it made feel cut off from everybody. I began to feel like I had nothing to offer. The more I thought this way, the more it became true. I have a tendency to think very little of myself so to compensate, I would figure out what the person I was around wanted from me, or what I thought they wanted from me, and I would become that person. This would become difficult when I was around two different people. I would start to short-circuit. This was pointed out to me last summer and since then I have been trying (sometimes failing) to stop being what I think people want me to be and actually be who I am. I got really depressed for a while because I didn’t know who I was. I had no idea what I liked. I wonder if I don’t want to be me because I’m afraid that people won’t like me. But then I think “if they don’t like me then why am I with them?” It’s still hard for me but now that I’ve spent almost a year being aware of what I have a tendency to do, I stop doing it. I’m actually getting a glimpse of “me”. And every now and then I really like who I am. So yeah, that’s my little pondering for the day.

A Room of Dirt.....

So on Saturday the Guadalajara missions team had its first work day to raise money for the trip. On the little paper thingy describing what we would be doing it said, "come prepared for a car wash, yard work and building picnic tables". So great, I get up Saturday morning put on a pair of work jeans and an old t-shirt ( it was supposed to rain last weekend, I don’t think the weather people are on top of things) anyway, I threw an extra pair of shorts in my car just in case so I go to the church to meet up with the group to find out what car I’ll be washing or picnic table I’ll be building. I sign in and take a look at the list, Vicky Manderson: Potato room. what’s a potato room? you may ask, well let me tell you, about 70 years ago they didn’t have fine maytag appliances at their disposal so instead they would fill a small 9 x9 room in the basement with dirt so they would be able to keep vegetables and stuff nice and cold. Fast forward to 2008, we have freezers and fridges. Dirt rooms are so passé. So we arrive at our destination, it’s a fabulous house and the people are very nice and have provided snacks, lunch and beverages. The guy takes us down into the cellar and shows us our task. A little bit of me died inside when I saw what was waiting for us. It wasn’t just a little dirt, it was heaps of dirt, mounds of dirt, a freakin' room of dirt!! As a child this would have been the ultimate play place. But no, not now. Now, it was a nightmare. So we proceeded to spend the next four hours (we were there for five but we took a few breaks, if we didn’t I wouldn’t be here writing this right now). So we finally finished at 2:00 and I went to the Skeffs house to shower up and get ready for work. I swear I almost passed out in the shower. I have a three massive bruises one on my left forearm, and two on my hips. And then several little bruises dotting my legs. I decided not to go into work and just stay put at the Skeffs to recuperate. I did the math while laying on their couch and I moved 1200 gallons of dirt. I am now ripped:)

I'm trying to write my novel but all you do is play.

I have no idea who said that or where it's originally from but I read it in my yearbook that I got from LSS and it's been stuck in my brain for the past two years. But now that I think about it, it's kind of fitting because I am in fact trying to write a novel....but all I do is nothing. I will get these random bursts of writing energy, where I can actually feel it, I need to write, if I don't I’ll put a hole in the wall. I need to put something on paper and look at it and be like" this is mine. I wrote this." So at the Trees, I'm surrounded by some pretty cool writers and they've rubbed off on me and it's ignited a spark. I gotta write. I have to. Or..................um......else. So last night I come home get ready for bed, wash my face with no less than four different cleansers then go and snuggle in between the sheets, close my eyes and then after 6.3 seconds open them again. I'm tired but I know I won't be sleeping. I have to do something.....but what?? (I’m a little slow when I’m sleepy) maybe I could watch a movie....so I turn one on..... A few moments go by and I realize that I haven't been watching. I've been off in vicky land.....I snap back to reality (okay snap is a little harsh, I glide back to reality) look over at my bookshelf and sitting on it is my birthday gift from andy and kat, they gave me a character sketch book (which I've never used because I don't want to wreck the pretty paper) but picked it up and opened it. I slid out the pen and uncapped it. At the top of the page I wrote "Characters". I stared at it for a few seconds then underlined it. Then I started to write. I got my antagonist and my protagonist. I wrote some background info and where I wanted to take this story. Then I got happy and sleepy. I felt like I had accomplished a little something so I slid back under the covers and slipped into the wonderful unconscious state that I am so fond of. So maybe just maybe in five years I'll have the first chapter done:)