A poem for my brother, the Doodlebug.

I'm a doodle doodlebug
And I doodle everyday
The teacher says to stop
But my pen will not obey
I need to pay attention,
I know this is the case
But if I can't doodle on my paper,
I might just doodle on my face.
And that would be distracting
To see my face covered in ink.
So please be understanding
And look past my doodling.


I wrote this for my little brother. He has a very unfortunate habit of doodling in class. Thank goodness he has the talent to justify it.

The season of sunroofs, sneakers, and splendor

I officially broke out my A Fine Frenzy cd/ Pandora station yesterday and so it must be Spring!  I love this time of year. Everything is all robin's egg blue and cloud white. It smells like the earth before the rain, and sunsets are at their most golden yellow until fall. Spring also means to arrival of all the most beautiful clothes in the shops I dare not enter lest I am forced to file for bankruptcy. Thoughts of sail boats ( a superfluous thought for a landlocked girl from the Midwest), lilacs, long walks out of doors with my walking buddy, Taki, or my faithful iPhone and earbuds, cute sneakers with rolled up jeans, driving with my sunroof open, God's blanket of sunny warmth against my skin, and opening the windows in my room to let the sunshine and its friend, spring breeze, in to play.
I also get those familiar annual yearnings to spend the Spring in the English countryside.  And pretend I'm Elizabeth Bennet or some such other beautiful nonsense.
All of this to say HAPPY SPRING!!! Do yourself a favor and walk out of your beckoning doors and breathe in the scent of this most gorgeous of God's season...it will make you feel better. If you feel so led, do a little dance...it will make you feel silly, outlandish, young, carefree, and brilliant, even if  only for a moment.
At the very least, put on some happy music, open your front door, and let in the beauty of this season of beginnings. And don't forget to thank the One who spoke such breathtaking splendor into being.

Uncomfortable Verbiage

I've heard it said that writers thrive on their own. I'm inclined to agree. I love to be alone. That's not to say that I do not enjoy being with people, but I only enjoy it if there's a few. And as long as they are someone I'm comfortable with. If I don't really know you, or there are a lot of people that I'm not familiar with...well, then we have a problem. You see, I am a girl, and as such I am obsessively insecure and I feel the need to be perceived in a certain way(i.e, pretty, smart, funny, nice-smelling, not an idiot). So naturally, I think that if I tell you as much about myself as is physically possible inside of a 1 minute, 45 second time frame you will now have the requisite information needed in order to judge me correctly. Yep, I'm an "over-sharer".  If you have been on the receiving end of this...I apologize. I can't stop it. It just happens. I will be sitting there, growing more and more insecure by the second until...BAM! My brain shuts down and my mouth takes over. Some of you know this by experience. If you are one of the lucky ones who have been spared this fate, let me break it down for you in this week's episode of Adventures in Uncomfortable Verbal Overflow.
    I was asked, this past week, a simple question that required, at maximum, a two-sentence reply. I was desperately trying to control my You-Need-To-Know-This impulse, but I could feel my ears going red and I knew the moment of verbal-abundance was imminent. Sure enough, for some reason, my mouth had the idea that I should fill this nice person in on the last five years of my life. Why, you ask? I honestly have no earthly idea. The worst part is that I can see that look on their face that says "I don't remember asking for this information. Why is she telling me this? Wait...what did I ask her?" I then realize that my brain is dozing and frantically try to find the off-button for my jaw while attempting to shut down the flow of data. The problem being, I'm in the middle of a story, and when I just stop talking they become even more confused because now, I've become completely silent and more awkward, and they probably think they've missed a part of the conversation, but they really haven't, and now everyone is uncomfortable and unsure of what to say and it's just a mess.
The kicker is that when I determine to just shut up and let everyone else do the talking, I walk away feeling so much less of an idiot. I like feeling like a non-idiot. It's re-affirming.
And to anyone who would like to piously quote the verse stating, "A fool uttereth his whole mind", or point out that, yes, this post is in fact another example of my humiliating disorder...Please don't.  I would inevitably become insecure and be forced to correct your assumption by telling you about my first pet fish, Wilbur, or something else you really don't need to know.

Just a little something I found...

So, I found this recently. I wrote it about a year ago I think...It's me. In a nutshell. A wordy nutshell.

To travel far and far away
Has longtime been my dream

To see the lights in yonder skies
And bask in foreign moonlight's gleam.

To run through verdant pastures in
A land awash in colors bright

To step into the ocean and feel
it's pull and never-ceasing might.

To feel the sun, warm and quickening
On some forgotten sand-filled shore,

And fall in love in a cafe where
hundreds have done the same before.

To feel the rush of wind
Against my face turned to the storm.

And walk in paths that, through the years,
Sojourner's weary feet have formed.

To live, and see, and not just know,
That surely is my heart.

Yet dreaming will not take me there
And so I must depart.

How I came to possess my computer

I believe in the power of prayer. I believe God wants to hear from us, and He wants us to be specific. However, I don't know that I believed quite as strongly as I should have. All of my life, I had heard stories of prayers being answered in miraculous ways, but being a good Baptist girl, I chalked it up to the "put their hands in the air and worship" people getting an extra dose of "the Holy Spirit". (Disclaimer: It's a joke people...don't take it too seriously). Now, I know differently. God wants ALL of His children to come before Him with their requests, and He delights in watching our little faces get that "I can't believe it worked!" look when He shows us the tiniest fraction of what He is capable of .  God saw that look on my face about a month ago when He answered one of my prayers and showed me He really can do it. 

Recently, I have been feeling the Lord calling me to write. I had no idea how He wanted me to do this, however, seeing as I had no computer. I used to have a computer, but let's just say that milk and Mac laptops, while alliterated, are not actually friends. In fact, one will kill the other. Suffice it to say, I was without a medium to get my thoughts down in a satisfactory manner. Oh sure, I could have used pen and paper, but it just isn't fast enough, and I'm not sure what to do with it afterwards. So, knowing God wanted me to write, and knowing I had no computer, I began to pray. Basically I told God I needed  a computer with something akin to a word processor and access to the internet. And it would be great if it was free. That's really all I needed. Also, asking for a MacBook Pro (for free) seemed greedy. So I just told Him I'd take anything. I'll admit, it was a half-hearted prayer. Mostly because I saw no reason why God should actually GIVE me a computer. I knew He could...but believing He would ? I don't think so. However, that quiet nudge to write wouldn't go away. So I kept praying. 

Fast forward a few weeks. I'm sitting in my dad's office, pouring out my frustration over the fact that I feel I need to write, but I have no computer! He sits there for awhile and says, "What about that old laptop sitting in the backroom?" My reply was probably something akin to horror. "Old" and "laptop" in the same sentence usually aren't great. However, I was a beggar, and by default, could not also be a chooser. So I trudged back there and pulled down a huge, black, ugly, ancient, dusty contraption that I'm sure was "state of the art" at some point in the past 15 years. Ok, it wasn't that bad. But it was definitely not a Mac. I dusted it off and noticed it had an internet card. Definitely helpful. I lugged it back to my dad's office, plugged it in, and Voila! It actually worked!!! It was at this point in time I remembered those pathetic un-believing prayers I'd been sending up. I'm pretty sure it was then that God surely saw that look on my face that communicated a mix of wonder and complete stupification. God had given me a computer. A computer that was pretty much only capable of internet access and word processing. I'm not exaggerating. If I try anything else, it uses too much disk space and almost dies. I love it. I love it because it shows that God had answered my prayer specifically. He had called me to do something, and even when I didn't believe He would, He provided a way for me to fulfill that calling. In fact, it is the computer I am using to write this post. Pretty cool, huh?

Our God is so good! Don't be afraid to come before Him with your needs and requests. He already has everything all worked out. He's just waiting for you get there so He can blow your mind wide open!

Being Singular

On the eve of my 24th birthday, I am contemplating what the word singular means. What is it to be singular? I know what it means as a grammar term. It means there is only one of a thing. Yet, as I think on it, I know that there is more to this word than just the quantity of a noun. So, like any word-lover might, I zipped over to dictionary.com and looked it up. Now, I know how to use this word in a sentence and so on and so forth, but the actual definition is so much better than I had thought it might be. Ready?

Singular: Extraordinary; remarkable; exceptional.
             Unusual; strange/odd; different
              Being the only one of its kind. Distinctive. Unique
              Separate, Individual.

Maybe you weren't nearly as blown away as I was. That's ok. But I couldn't help but think that so much of who I am and where I find myself right now in life can be summed up in that word. Singular.
I am created by God in a singular fashion. There is ONLY one of me. I was created to be singular.
Often I am frustrated by the lack of people out there who see the world as I do. But it's because my mind and           heart are singular.
One could apply this to my social status...singular.
The place that I am in life is a singular one.
The way the idea came to me for this blog is, indeed, very singular. (But that's for another day.)
Everything about me is singular! And I love that! Because that is who I am called to be!
The beauty of it all, of course, is that we are all created to be singular. To be the only of our kind. Unique. Different. YOU are singular. Extraordinary and remarkable. Not because of who you are. But because of Who made you. And He is the author of the singular. Each snowflake He creates is unique. No fingerprint is a duplicate. Each grain in my wood floor has its own pattern. The purpose God has for your life is individual. Mindblowing.
So, tonight, the night before I am one step closer to the next singular year of my life, I am totally reveling in the  beauty of the word singular. And the fact that it is what I am.
So, tomorrow when you wake up and are facing the dread of having to go back to the same old routine, remember, God has made you to be singular. So be extraordinary. It's your calling.