"I've founded my beliefs on truth, and love, and a cause. It tells me that all things are possible, and that i'm the exception to the standard."

Sometimes there are things about a person you can never understand. I always say I'd want the superpower of reading minds, but sometimes your eyes are loud enough for me to hear your thoughts.

When I look at you I try to make you laugh, just so I can see you smile. To say I get lost in your eyes would be cliche` but there is honestly no finding my way out once they light up. I watch them change colors, from brown to hazel and occasionally a pale green. I know you think I want you to cut your hair, but I honestly believe its the source of your strength. More than anything it is the source of your passion and your vigor for life, it is a small element of what makes you so incredibly unique. Combined with your clothes, your green corduroys and bear printed shirt, you are the epitome of "different". Will you ever change? Will you look in a mirror someday and recognize that you stick out like a sore thumb? I hope you never do. I will crash every mirror that stands in your way and bear all the bad luck that befalls me, only to watch your smile never fade, oblivious to the world's condemnation.

"If I could take your pains you would have no reason to cry
That is what I want; I'd rather suffer than watch your eyes die"

Why would you want my pains if you already have my heart? It is so scared, but it is trusting of the thoughts it cannot hear and the eyes it cannot read; harness my power, and let your smile speak.

"Longing to hold together a heart that has not been fully broken, he searches for a tear, and finds nothing"

My two friends and I wanted to write a book and change the world. We each had a section, one was photography, one was drawing, and one was writing. I was the writing section. In this book we would open up the eyes of those striving for life and show them what they had to offer. Although this book didn't make it as far as we would have liked, it so strongly illustrates how i view writing, and how much it has meant to me. This is the first part of our book entitled, Desperate Dreams of the Undefined.

Take everything and describe it into words and make those words the very thing that will describe you. She looked at everything around her and whenever she attempted to explain it she would stutter. So her pen became her mouth and the ink inside became her voice. She wrote with grace and let her words flow knowing this was the only thing ever beautiful to her. When looked at she was nothing special and they passed over her. But when read they saw something hidden, something only the untouched can possess. Only those who took their precious time to read what she wrote for them would experience just a moment of individuality. Quickly they'd return to black and white while she tried to describe to them what color looked like. She continued to float through life, unable to decide where she wanted to land. Until one day she could no longer defy gravity, and she fell down onto reality. But somehow, it caught her and she was able to look around and see where she was. These people, the ones she hated and despised, had been waiting for her. With a quick glance back and a small step forward, i dreamed something desperate. No one has ever attempted to explain this, but simply, we are undefined. In many ways, we are all different in our dreams and desperate in our identities. With much regret but little sorrow, us 3 will dive into the unknown. We'll have something to present once we return, but until then, we're swimming through the black, peering into the darkness, and searching for the blue.

"I'm just a little lost and confused. I'll find my way, but the path always takes me a little deeper before my footsteps appear in the sand again."

"My relationship with my mom is crumbling. It's crumbling because of a simple misunderstanding, and i've lost you. You've forgotten me, the dreams I have and the morals i used to define myself with. I can promise myself this a phase, but to you it's a downward spiral. So i guess you'll watch me fall, while I simply see it as the last act of freedom I have. The only terrifying part is i'm not sure if you know me better than i know myself."
-Feb. 24th, 2010

My mom was coming home from the hospital that night, and my best friend and I wanted to make her room nice when she arrived. When you go through chemo you can't share things with anybody else, and germs from others are forbidden. We went to walmart and got cleaning supplies, and things for her room like pictures and and flowers because she would be spending most of her time there for the next 6 months. We were just about done shopping, but ended up in the pet section where we saw the fish tanks. Next thing we knew we were scoping out the .99 cent goldfish, picking the one we were most fond of. We finally found our prime candidate, Nemo.

How do you surprise a mom who’s done everything for you?
She makes your bed and cleans your clothes
and finds your missing shoe.
She picks you up and takes you there,
Piano lessons too.
Loves and cares for all her friends she’ll never let them down.
Her smile brightens all our lives,
It never wears a frown.

So here I am a fish named Nemo
To help you through your chemo.
When days seem dark I’ll be your light;
We’ll form the strength to fight.
I know you’re feeling all alone and no one understands,
But our Creator cares for us both,
He crafted us with his hands.
So don’t give up, I’ll be your friend,
We’ll look back and say we’ve won.
In this short season we’ll learn and grow,
The battle will be done.


"I don’t want to say that bad things happen to make you appreciate what you have, and may be taking for granted. I don’t want to say that, and I won’t.
But I kiss my mom every day, and tell her I love her. And while I won’t say that bad things happen to good people to make them appreciate what they have, I am appreciating more than ever what I’ve been given."
-Feb. 28th, 2010

"It's funny how you go somewhere with nothing and come back with so much more than you left."

It was the summer before my sophomore year in high school. I was away at a college in New York for four days at a writing camp I had applied for and got accepted to. About three days after I arrived, I got a call from my coach saying my friend had lost her mom suddenly. From that moment I did everything I could to find a way to get home. In the car with my grandparents on the way home I did the only thing that made sense to me; I wrote her a poem.


This Wall

Don't you understand?
You try to compare her so you can better understand.
You do not understand and you cannot.
I will not compare her,
for she is beautiful.
Watch.
Pictures are being painted.
Painted by numb fingers as they rise to wipe silent tears.
I will hang your pictures on the wall.
The wall we built when we could no longer take the pain.
No, don't try to climb the wall.
It will crumble on its own.
It will age with time,
and the memories will fade.
Do you see those cracks?
You're getting stronger
and it's getting weaker.
When will they see that I cannot compare you?
I cannot compare you;
for you are beautiful.
Don't listen to him.
This is not the end.
There is no point where we stop going on.
We're walking down a path lit by angels.
They're all around,
do you see them?
As long as you don't walk away they will never leave.
Take my hand,
I am blind without it.
Please do not let go.
Will you open your eyes?
Can't you see now that I cannot compare her?
I cannot compare her;
for she is all I have that is beautiful.

"Alot has happened but nothings changed"

Its been two weeks, and it's time to go home. They waited a year to see each other and their time together is up. The girl stands outside on the sidewalk as the boy pulls up. He lives there, but she can't stay. She has to begin her life, start college and leave everything behind her. He knows how the process goes, but he can't seem to perform the motions. They say goodbye, and he closes her car door with a simple "I'll be seeing you." The two part ways, and she drives back, playing the memories over in her head.

They have both started their lives at college. It's been a month since they've seen each other. The boy checks his mailbox like any other day, finding a handwritten letter with no return address. He holds the letter, imagining her voice as he reads it.

Dear Zach
How are you? Is your apartment everything you wished for and more? I'm loving college. I should not have believed you when you said freshman year is an easy work load-it's definitely not. I asked my mom about going to Michigan at Christmas and she said it depends on when I get my tonsils out. Loser. Every time I hear dubstep I think of us driving around the state of Michigan trying to find a white castle. I can picture your laugh and backwards hat so perfectly. You always said I looked nice when we first saw each other. "Dubbed best knight ever." I wish I could go back to that. There was no such thing as the future. College was a world away and the only thing I had to worry about was the sound of my car coming down the driveway at 5a.m. We were always together for the sunrise but we were always thinking about it too much to ever watch it go up. I don't think we'll ever be back there again-sneaking around your house, driving through Milford, visiting your grandma's house, searching for working gas stations. We'll never be there again, but we'll always be there to me.
I miss you.

Life left to go

I got home for fall free days two days ago (wed.). My friend jer told me he was going to see galen yesterday, and i thought i would really like to go. Galen has been in the hospital for 10 months ever since he got hit by a car, and things went from bad to worse in the hospital. He's about 65 years old.
I brought my book, crazy love because i knew he couldn't speak well. I knew i had seen it in a movie before where somebody read to someone but they couldn't talk. I can't remember which one it was. I asked my mom what i was like because she had gone before. She said it was intense. I didn't really know what that meant. I left the house and started driving.
I parked outside and met jer when i went in. We hugged in the elevator, and i asked him how galen is doing. He told me he'd be excited to see me, so that made me feel a lot more at ease. We walked off the elevator and down the hall towards galen's room. A woman yelled at us to get her some food and everyone laughed, so we did too.
I walked into galen's room and barely recognized him. They told me to put gloves on so i did. I went over to his side and held his hand and gave him a hug. He had no teeth, and whispered to me that my hair looked pretty. I said hi to the boys and we started talking, barely acknowledging where we were or what we were doing here. I finally got my book out of my bag, and asked galen if i could read him some of my book. He nodded yes, and i pick a random section. The author talked about how he could never relate to god because of the situation he had with his own dad. But when he became a father everything changed for him. The author talked about what it was like when he had his oldest daughter, and how much he loved her. I was glad because i was thinking about angela and ms. vickie, and i knew he was thinking about them too. He told me he liked my book, and i kept reading. The room was so hot.
The boys decided it was time to go, so they said goodbye and left the room and i told them i'd meet them. I went over to him, took off my gloves and held his hand and asked if i could pray for him. I prayed god would be with him, and that galen would always know god is right there. "Ye though we walk through the valley of the shadow of death we will fear no evil for god is with us." I said a little more, and closed with amen. He opened his eyes, and started gasping. He was crying, and i held his hand and rubbed his arm. He slowly, so slowly moved my hand up to his mouth and kissed my hand. I told him it was so great to see him and that i loved him, and hopefully i would see him again soon.
It was hard for me to type those last words.
I walked out of the room, and got ready to leave with the boys in the hall. I stepped back in to say goodbye, and i saw him wiping tears from his face. I waved goodbye and walked out, as tears filled up my eyes as we stepped on the elevator. Like I said to my mom, God is so good.
It feels like everything in life wants you to have a hard heart, that if you feel everything it will be almost too much. I think God wants us to feel everything, but when he's by our side we feel it a different way. I felt this a different way, and wasn't angry or upset when i left the hospital. I felt comforted and loved, and more overwhelmed that God was with me than ever before.

Gianna Jessen

Abortion Survivor, Gianna Jessen talks about what life was like for her after learning of her birth process. Unlike the millions of people today who can recount the hospital they were born in, how they got their name, and who was present, Gianna's story is much different. She was supposed to be born dead. Rather than coming into the world to a place that produces life, she was rushed to a hospital, a place that saves the ill or dying. Her story is a heartwarming one. She talks humbly and fearlessly about her life and the forgiveness she has experienced because of the chance she was given for life.

"If we don't know if the unborn is alive, why take the risk? If it's not alive, then why is an abortion necessary?" - Allison Martinez

Click Happy

My friend and I were discussing interests, and he asked me if I had ever heard of 'stumble.' I was completely confused and asked how you stumble. I got home, went to google, typed in stumble and next thing I knew i was analyzing myself from top to bottom and all my likes and dislikes.
There were things from art, to cooking, to video games, to jokes, to quotes, to clothes, to travel, and anything else you have ever caught yourself wondering about. They had it all. So ever since I created my stumble, all I have to do is click a little button on my internet browser and I'm brought to a website that is matched specifically to my interests. I can say if I like it, or don't like it. And if I do like it, it saves so I can go there whenever I like. I rarely find myself clicking the dislike button.
I would advise everybody to stumble upon their interests, excuse the pun ;)

Also, I've included some of my favorite websites that I've discovered.
If you like splatter paint and colors, or photography. How about timezones (it's not what you think), and of course quotes. Enjoy!

99 Balloons

"God gives. God takes. God's name be ever blessed."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=th6Njr-qkq0


I was "working" in the library with my friends Emmy, Becca and Annie, when we started playing our favorite songs. I played a song by Plumb entitled 'In My Arms' and told them that the artist wrote it for her son. Emmy is commonly referred to as mine and Annie's daughter, and we looked at her in wonderment laughing at how big she's gotten. Annie turned serious and said she can't believe we'll all have actual children over our own, and the day will come where they won't want us. We each talked about how we can clearly remember trying to avoid our parents, and not realizing how much it must have hurt them. Emmy told me and Annie she would never do that to us, being our child and all. We laughed, but I couldn't help imagine my mom and how perfect and wonderful she is to me now. I imagined her driving away after dropping me off on my first day of high school with tears in her eyes after I slammed the door in her face.
Annie directed me to 99 Balloons, saying it would be something I could analyze for my blog post. I had never heard of it and her ideas are usually pretty solid so I figured I'd look. As i began watching I could immediately distinguish the joy in the narrator's voice. But as the video continued I started to realize this wasn't only a video of new life, but of great loss.
The dad begins by talking about the arrival of his son, and of the disease that will follow his birth. He talks about the tragedy as if it is common in every birth, with no tone of anger or disappointment in his voice. A few weeks later, their son is born and given the name Eliot. He is connected to tubes and will be for the remainder of his life. Feeding is done throughout the day and night, and the dad talks about how it is his and his wife's favorite thing to do. Whether it be at 4p.m. or 3a.m. they find no greater joy than taking care of their son and meeting his every need. Each day of his life is celebrated by dear friends and family, they sing and make a cake for Eliot to commemorate the event. As day 99 of Eliot's life approaches, the dad talks about the miracle of his son still being alive. On day 99, Eliot goes home to be with Jesus, bringing an end to his short time on earth.
99 balloons are released at Eliot's funeral. The video ends with the dad saying goodbye to his son, as if this was a conversation. I found myself asking how the father was able to accept the death of his only child without asking why. He realized from the beginning that his son's life was not meant to reflect pain. Eliot was giving more by living 99 days than most of do in living 99 years. His short life on earth was a gift, and his dad knew he was blessed to receive him.
I experience tragedy, but the interpretation of its meaning is sourced in how i feel about it. Why did this happen (to me)? How will this change life (for me)? What will the future be like (for me)? How would it look if i took myself out of the situation, and changed the end of the previous sentences to focus around someone besides myself? I think I would be making a greater impact by living my life like Eliot. one day at a time. Living as if today was my last, remembering that God gives, God takes, and His name will ever be blessed- Job 1:21.

"I felt like I was handing God a forest, and he was handing me a seed."

Lately, after asking people how they are doing, the common response seems to be 'tired' or 'so beat.' Everyone is worn out on life in some way or the other. Classes one after the other, homework up our behinds, it is a never ending stress cycle. I found myself caught in the center of this process, overwhelmed and frustrated with problems I couldn't fix. There were mistakes I had made and wanted to be rid of, I wanted to be forgiven. My friend Annie knew i was struggling, so we went for a walk to the swamp.

We walked back and I felt like I was carrying a thousand pounds on my back. I was in a haze and couldn't pay attention. Everything became a little clearer when I found myself surrounded by this beautiful scene. We walked next to a stone bridge above a pond, up a tiny path and down a dirt lane with trees spaced out evenly between each other, and on the other side of this path was a swamp. There were geese floating aimlessly across the water. Surprisingly enough, the path was deserted. I thought it would be crowded with people, but we had picked the time during the day where teams are usually practicing which explained why no one was there. I threw my bag on a lonely bench in between two of the trees, the only bench to be seen.
I began opening up to her about my past, and how I was fearful of the future. I wanted something greater than this; I needed to be stimulated in thought and mind but couldn't find the will to trust the Beholder of all truth. She asked me questions without telling me what I should do, giving her own experiences that related to mine. She was especially fond of analogies, but it was nice seeing things from a perspective I could imagine myself in. I told her I knew what God had for me was better than anything I could dream of for myself. I had always feared an outcome I couldn't predict, so I went the safer route and trusted my own instinct. Doing this all my life, I found myself stuck on a line between trusting God completely and returning to my old ways of life.
One of my favorite analogies that she used was an experience from her childhood of her first time in the ocean. She stood next to her dad holding onto his hand for dear life. Her brothers and sisters ran carelessly into the water, but the thought of being on her own in this vast ocean was unimaginable to her. Her dad told her to let go, that he was right there and wouldn't let anything happen to her. He kept telling her that she would have a better time if she just let go and trusted him. So she did, and when a large wave approached her she knew her dad was right there watching. If she got swept under he would be there in a second, she would hold on to him again. But eventually he would convince her to let go again.
This was beautiful to me. It illustrated the idea perfectly, and I imagined myself holding on to my dad's hand, scared to let go. We continued talking about my fear, and she thought back to how she felt when she gave her life to God two summers ago. She said she felt like she was handing him a forest and he was giving her back a seed. She was surrendering her entire life with little expectations for God to come through.
I related with this, and we talked about how different life would be in general if we all admired the little things. We went from the creation, to humanity, and back to the geese aimlessly flapping their wings in the swamp behind us. She told me how letting go was the best thing she could have ever done, and the peace she experienced after was overwhelming. She told me that she realized she wasn't handing over a forest, but rather, God was handing her a forest and she was giving him a seed.

"I don't want to go to a Christian school, I want to go to a school filled with Christians."

"Christian makes a poor adjective."
-Rob Bell

The first day of college i sat in the lobby with my new group of friends, talking about why we chose Eastern. Discussions of other Christian schools came up, and we compared the pros and cons of each. I felt like i was sitting at the dinner table again with my parents trying to decide where to visit.
We talked about how we wanted our walk with God to be voluntary. If someone is telling you to go to church, how can you ever know if you really want to be there?
We were all new to each other, so rather than sit back and listen in on the conversation it was everybody's job to speak up and give their side of things. I listened to the random boy to my left with glasses as his Mac hummed on his lap while he talked about what brought him here. He was brave and and fearless as he said the words "I don't want to go to a Christian school, I want to go to a school filled with Christians." The conversation continued on without pause, but I couldn't help making a mental note to remember this statement. When I got back to my room I immediately wrote it down. Ever since then it has been present in every class when the professor brings up the word 'Christian'.
Is it safe to say we all agree with this statement? Does the label 'Christian University' necessarily mean we are surrounded by people with the same morals and values as us? I believe that if we are to be the Christians we claim to be, then we accept people unlike ourselves.

In my last INST class, we talked about what it meant to be a Christian. We agreed that Christianity had become warped into something God never intended for it be. It had become judgmental and unkind. One by one, students began opening up about their religious background and the lack thereof. It was amazing to me that even while they were in a room filled with 'accepting and loving' Christian people, they were hesitant to say that they themselves were not Christians.
So I ask myself and those reading this particular post, what is it to be a Christian? Not, what is it to 'be Christian.'

What do you think? I would especially like to hear answers from non-Christians as well.