Memories from Adolescence

In third grade, Freddie Denham told us he'd had sex. We all believed him, of course, for several reasons: 1. We didn't know what sex was 2. Freddie was the oldest kid in class, and seemed as worldly as any 3. He was one of my best friends, and I assumed he wouldn't lie to me, especially about something so serious. When asked by one of his fellow classmates "how" he'd "had" it, he responded with a story that goes a little something like this:

"I found a condom on the ground at the park that was full of rainwater. I picked it up, slung it around, and some of the water got on me."

That sealed it. Who could dispute it? I didn't know what a condom was, so I certainly wasn't going to. It seemed Freddie really had had "sex". And we all just went on thinking it was true, until Danielle Wingo caught wind of the story and told Mrs. Platt, our teacher.

Mrs. Platt spoke with him privately about the whole thing, and assured those of us that knew the story that he had lied to us, and that we shouldn't be talking about things like that anyway. Freddie came back to the classroom crying, and we all knew at once it had been a scam.

Even so, up until high school I believed what Freddie had told me about not holding your eyelids open really wide and bending over because your eyeballs would literally fall out of your head.

If I had my way (this blog contains a spoiler for the movie "Becoming Jane")

If you don't want to hear the ending of "Becoming Jane," please read no further.

I can't believe I'm the only one in this category: those who loath a sad ending. I always have. The movie could be brilliantly acted, written, directed, whatever, but if I leave the movie theater depressed, it's over. I'm ticked. When I go to the movies, I not only expect to be entertained, but in so doing, I expect to be uplifted, made to feel good, or at least hopeful. I've heard people say things like, "Yes, but they did the noble thing in the end," or "They would never have been happy with themselves in the end if they stayed together," etc. Bologna! It's fiction, people! If I want to, I'll pretend they're happy in my head long after the credits role. No, I did not stand up and cheer at the end of Braveheart. So, he gave his life for his country? Big woop! He got his intestines pulled out at the end too! In fact, I couldn't really even get into the movie at all after his wife got her throat cut at the beginning. So, Meryl Streep did the right thing by staying with her husband in The Bridges of Madison County? Listen, I'm a Christian, and even I hated that ending! So, she's destined to live a life with a man she doesn't love? I'm not advocating adultery here, but just don't even make a movie about two people falling in love if they can never be together! It's disturbing to me that people actually enjoy watching movies like this. Movies like Message in a Bottle, My Best Friend's Wedding, Somersby, City of Angels, Kramer verses Kramer, Casa Blanca, Legends of the Fall, and the list goes on and on. Even in Grease I had to pretend Danny Zuko turned into a goody-goody in the end instead of the other way around--but at least they got to ride off into the clouds together at the end! And what about a little movie I like to call Gone with the Wind? Hmmm? I mean, what the hec?! We spend the entire movie wanting Scarlet to fall for Rett, and when she finally does, he leaves her? Are you joking? And then I'm supposed to be comforted by "tomorrow is another day"?! I don't think so! And don't even get me started on Romeo and Juliet, or, worse in my opinion, Shakespeare in Love! Geez! Rewrite Shakespeare's life or don't write the bloody story! (now I'm in England) Do you know what I mean? But, my latest disappointment was Becoming Jane. Sad. Annoyingly sad. Hey, let's make a movie about a woman who falls in love and can't marry the man, so she never gets married her whole life! It'll be a hit! Meanwhile, the man she loves gets married and names his daughter after her? What? And I'm supposed to feel better because Miss Austin writes a few memorable novels afterward? I cried so hard at that movie, I could barely control my sobs as I left the theater. It's torture watching a movie like that--especially one based on a true story. It's like Titanic--you leave the theater sad, but you say "At least it's just a movie--no, wait..." Can we say Depressing? Anyway, if I had my way, all the endings would turn out happy. I guess that would make all my movies predictable, but at least you wouldn't leave the theater craving hard liquor.

Summer of Romance

This has been the most amazing summer I've ever experienced. Sadly, I won't be able to put into words all the things God has done in me and is still doing. I think I last blogged about Consumed and some of the supernatural things that took place there. I saw the face of Jesus in a vision. I looked into His face and He looked at me with fierce longing and desire, and I will never be the same. In an instant I felt loved like I have never been before, and that love ignites love in me like I've never felt before.

The next week I went on vacation with my family. One night we listened to the CD of a prophet named Dutch Sheets regarding The Call which was going to take place in Nashville on 7/7/07. We cried and had our own little prayer meeting and I've since seen fruit of things that were broken and shifted that night.

Zack and I decided we would go to Nashville on July 7th, and we brought 11 other people with us. That weekend has stirred something in me that's hard to put into words. We re-covenanted with God for being unfaithful to Him. We remarried Him. The entire day was devoted to prayer, repentance, fasting, and romance. Romance? Yah. But it was the sweetest, most intimate thing. Here are some lyrics to one of the songs we sang that day taken from Song of Solomon: "No longer your master, but your husband I will be. You have ravished my heart with one glimpse of your eyes. How fair is your love, my promised, my bride." Those words make my heart melt in the cheesiest middle-schooler way. It was at The Call that I got a burden for abortion like I've never had before. Zack, Meghan and I stood in front of an abortion clinic a week later with life tape on our mouths as a silent cry for the unborn who have no voice.

The following week we left for El Salvador on a missions trip where almost 1,100 people gave their hearts to Christ. We've had some amazing youth services over the past few months too. God is really pouring out His Spirit. He keeps speaking things to me and stirring things in my heart.

I've recently picked up a book again that I hadn't finished reading called "Captivating" by John and Stasi Eldridge. This book is amazing. It's so funny to me how God works. He's been reiterating certain verses and messages over and over again this summer to us and to Christians everywhere. For instance, things I prophesied at Consumed were spoken again and again at The Call and again on the mission trip and now I'm reading them in a whole new light in this book. I realize what God's been trying to do to me this summer. He's been romancing me.

Read this exerpt from the book: "Every song you love, every memory you cherish, every moment that has moved you to holy tears has been given to you from the One who has been pursuing you from your first beath in order to win your heart. God's version of flowers and chocolates and candlelight dinners comes in the form of sunsets and falling stars, moonlight on lakes and cricket symphonies; warm wind, swaying trees, lush gardens and fierce devotion. This romancing is immensely personal. It will be as if it has been scripted for your heart. He knows what takes your breath away, what makes your heart beat faster.We have missed many of His notes simply because we shut our hearts down in order to endure the pain of life." Wow. God has been wooing me since I was a little girl, and now, at 26, I'm just beginning to see it.

21 Days turn off

This is why I won't be checking my myspace, blog, or email for a while. If you need to get ahold of me, you can give me a call!

Bound4Life

Jesus, I plead your blood over my sins and the sins of my nation. God, end abortion and send revival to America.

Seasons

...yet another poem in iambic pentameter.

Seasons

The children played until the light grew dim
Pretending they were no more boys but men.
The grown-ups watched the children as they played
And reminisced about the good ‘ole days.

Leaving The Office

Last night I dreamed I was quitting my job at the office. Which is true, I am leaving my job at the doctors' office in two weeks--just gave my notice yesterday. But that wasn't my dream. I dreamed I was quitting my job at The Office. Now I realize that my obsession with the show may be cause for concern. I had to explain to Michael Scott that I wasn't leaving The Office because of anything he had done, but he, in his typical immature fashion, was still really angry and pitching a fit. Jan was telling him to take care of it, and Jim was chasing Pam around the office flirting. Can I just say that I love that show? I am forever dreaming about it. I can't wait until season 3 is out so I can buy it. I'm feeling a little floopy tonight...maybe from from lack of sleep, which, according to "The Seven Pillars of Health" by Dr Colbert, is the leading cause of virtually every ailment known to man. I better get to bed so I can dream about my show. I hope Dwight's in tonight's dreamisode...I'll have to take back my resignation if he is.

Nancy's Angel

So, I'm a medical secretary. I have also begun taking on many of the billing responsibilities at the office, as it is too much for our one biller to do alone. Our biller's name is Nancy. Now, Nancy works from her home in Spokane, Washington. She used to work at our office in Spring Hill, but moved away before I started working there. I talk to Nancy on the phone every day, sometimes several times a day for extended periods of time. She's hilarious. She's Italian. She's almost too honest. She walks both her dogs and her parents every day at different times, and she hates computers with a passion. She also hates kids, as she will readily tell you. She doesn't have any. Her husband is retired, and they were both in the military at one point. She's been stationed in Hong Kong, and often writes letters to her nephew in Italy, where she used to live. Her job stresses her out, and she's always talking about quitting. She doesn't vote because she thinks all politicians are crooks, and she has very strong opinions about the hypocrisy of the white house putting a Christmas tree in every room around December, saying that our tax money is paying that electric bill. Nancy is quite a character, and, up to this point, I have thought of her kind-of like Charlie from Charlie's Angels. This is for several reasons: 1. I like to picture myself as Farrah Faucet, 2. Although I have never seen Nancy, I get strict orders from her via the telephone every day on what I am to do and how I am to do it, and 3. I always thought I would be a good crime fighter. This week I told Nancy to send me a picture of herself. This is a very dangerous thing, as anyone who's seen a picture of their favorite radio personality can attest to. I know it sounds crazy, but she looks exactly like I pictured her. Now I feel inclined to send a picture of myself, which is not easy considering she told me last week that I was in a dream she had, and I was young and skinny. Oh well. Here you go, Nancy. This is actually a picture from my younger and skinnier days (hey, I didn't want to disappoint her!)--almost exactly a year and a half ago on my honeymoon in Colorado. And, as Nancy always says, "Ciao!"

My Baby's Graduating

I can't believe my little Peyton is graduating from Kindergarten tonight! This makes me feel older than I can say. Just look at this little face!

God's Poem

This week I thought I'd share a poem I wrote for my creative writing class in iambic pentameter. I'm always wary to post my poetry and short stories on here. I guess it goes without saying that this is copyrighted material, people, and that all rights are reserved. =)


God's Poem

Come, come, my dear, and rest your weary mind
And dream about another place and time
I’ll hold your indiscretions; hold my tongue
Come, come, my dear, such pleasures we shall find

Dream, dream, my dear, but not as in the past
Please do not breathe a word of what will last
For colors never fade, nor lights grow dim
Dream, dream, my dear, the world is sleeping fast

Dance, dance, my dear, for you have stood too long
Your melody has burst forth into song
The freedom that you crave you now control
Dance, dance, my dear, there’s footprints on your soul

Rest, rest a while and find your solace here
For winter’s long, but spring is drawing near
And peace is but a moment far removed
Come dream and dance and rest a while, my dear



If you think this poem is kind-of sing-songy, blame the iambic pentameter, not the author=) Lemme know what you think.