Touch screens and social networks
Jealous eyes and a wounded heart
That girl is prettier than me
What is he up to these days
I should get up, do something
Lazy tonight, productive tomorrow
Celebrity gossip blogs
Waste of time
Stupidity on a screen
Eyes stuck on images
I can’t believe how ridiculous he is
She’s such a mess
Brain doesn’t have to work
Easy, but dumb
Interesting for no good reason
Foolishness
Books sit on the shelf
Thoughts float somewhere in the back
Wishing for a pen and blank page
Life put on hold to unwind
Conversation for another time
We can just veg now
What’s on next?
Reality t.v. and a screaming match
Real pain, less reality
Train wreck
He's such an arrogant jerk
She really needs to get some help
Airing dirty laundry for all to see
Ruined lives for some cash and fame
Just before bed
8.27.2009
5.30.2009
longings
I long for beauty and inspiration.
Life seems more chaotic than it has to be most of the time.
I spend countless hours pouring my heart and time into my job. It's a great job and many would say that it's even beautiful and inspring, but I want more from life. My days are filled with lesson plans, disciplining kids, tying shoes, faculty meetings, staffings, answering "but why" questions, breaking up silly fights, teaching [enter subject here], dealing with helicopter parents, political mumbo jumbo with colleagues and superiors, singing cute songs, reading stories, writing reports, second guessing myself, challenging my kids, drying tears, etc. It's rewarding and I love it. Don't get me wrong there. But it doesn't end at 2:00 when the bell rings. Then there is another lesson plan to be made, prepping for the next day, planning [enter project/activity here], cutting out lamination, making a new game for literacy centers, grading papers, filing papers, phone calls to parents, letters to parents, making copies, etc.
My job is great and I really do love it, but at the very end of the day I am exhausted. Physically. Mentally. Emotionally.
I long to pursue things that are inspiring and beautiful. I want to read thought provoking books. I want to flip through the pages of books with poems. I want to visit art museums. I want to paint something myself. I want to discuss art, literature and philosophy with friends. I want to sit at Starbucks just to sit and think. I want to play an instrument and feel that sort of freedom. I want to feel something and experience something outside of the hustle and bustle to ground me.
My job for next year is not secured because of the budget. Last year that crushed me. This year is different.
Here are the definitions for beauty and inspiration from Webster's Online Dictionary because my words do not adequately express what I think and feel.
beauty
1: the quality or aggregate of qualities in a person or thing that gives pleasure to the senses or pleasurably exalts the mind or spirit : loveliness
2: a beautiful person or thing
3: a particularly graceful, ornamental, or excellent quality
4: a brilliant, extreme, or egregious example or instance
inspiration
1 a: a divine influence or action on a person believed to qualify him or her to receive and communicate sacred revelation b: the action or power of moving the intellect or emotions c: the act of influencing or suggesting opinions
I hope this summer will be more like a spring for me.
Life seems more chaotic than it has to be most of the time.
I spend countless hours pouring my heart and time into my job. It's a great job and many would say that it's even beautiful and inspring, but I want more from life. My days are filled with lesson plans, disciplining kids, tying shoes, faculty meetings, staffings, answering "but why" questions, breaking up silly fights, teaching [enter subject here], dealing with helicopter parents, political mumbo jumbo with colleagues and superiors, singing cute songs, reading stories, writing reports, second guessing myself, challenging my kids, drying tears, etc. It's rewarding and I love it. Don't get me wrong there. But it doesn't end at 2:00 when the bell rings. Then there is another lesson plan to be made, prepping for the next day, planning [enter project/activity here], cutting out lamination, making a new game for literacy centers, grading papers, filing papers, phone calls to parents, letters to parents, making copies, etc.
My job is great and I really do love it, but at the very end of the day I am exhausted. Physically. Mentally. Emotionally.
I long to pursue things that are inspiring and beautiful. I want to read thought provoking books. I want to flip through the pages of books with poems. I want to visit art museums. I want to paint something myself. I want to discuss art, literature and philosophy with friends. I want to sit at Starbucks just to sit and think. I want to play an instrument and feel that sort of freedom. I want to feel something and experience something outside of the hustle and bustle to ground me.
My job for next year is not secured because of the budget. Last year that crushed me. This year is different.
Here are the definitions for beauty and inspiration from Webster's Online Dictionary because my words do not adequately express what I think and feel.
beauty
1: the quality or aggregate of qualities in a person or thing that gives pleasure to the senses or pleasurably exalts the mind or spirit : loveliness
2: a beautiful person or thing
3: a particularly graceful, ornamental, or excellent quality
4: a brilliant, extreme, or egregious example or instance
inspiration
1 a: a divine influence or action on a person believed to qualify him or her to receive and communicate sacred revelation b: the action or power of moving the intellect or emotions c: the act of influencing or suggesting opinions
I hope this summer will be more like a spring for me.
5.19.2009
ode to anthro 2
While shopping online after my previous post I came across these and my heart went pitter-patter once again...
anthropologie
I love anthropologie. I think it is the best store on the planet. I love everything about it. Just walking into an anthropologie store makes my day better. I love it because I think it is the very essence of femininity. I can go there to purchase beautiful dresses, skirts, aprons, dishes, lamp shades, necklaces, scarves, etc. It is just the very best.
There is something whimisical about the place and if you know me, you know I love whimisical. If it were possible my entire wardrobe would be from anthropologie. If I didn't live with a boy my house would be decorated with many anthropologie fabrics and textiles. I adore the place. Adore it!
Here are a few reasons why I hold it in such high regards...now this is sleepwear and it is not sexy so do not be alarmed for those conservatives out there. However, where else can you find such adorably, feminine sleepwear that isn't full of itchy lace? Girls, we do not have just 2 options...slinky lingerie and frumpy pajamas. We also have this...
My love affair for all that is anthropologie is intense. I must finish here so that I might go shop online!
There is something whimisical about the place and if you know me, you know I love whimisical. If it were possible my entire wardrobe would be from anthropologie. If I didn't live with a boy my house would be decorated with many anthropologie fabrics and textiles. I adore the place. Adore it!
Here are a few reasons why I hold it in such high regards...now this is sleepwear and it is not sexy so do not be alarmed for those conservatives out there. However, where else can you find such adorably, feminine sleepwear that isn't full of itchy lace? Girls, we do not have just 2 options...slinky lingerie and frumpy pajamas. We also have this...
My love affair for all that is anthropologie is intense. I must finish here so that I might go shop online!
4.08.2009
a journal entry
Lord God,
I have forgotten you. I have sought you on occasion. I have spent time with you in spurts. I have gone months at a time without calling your name and in doing so I have also forgotten me. I am nothing without you. I live and love barely on the fumes of our last encounter. I talk and do and think and feel with no real purpose. I get tired easily. I feel frustrated always. At times I hear you call for me and my heart quickens and I feel alive for an instant. Then I hide away. What can I say to the One who gives me everything while I give absolutely nothing? So the light in my eyes dims once again. Often I hear a song, a verse, a poem, a story and know you are speaking to me, feeding my soul, but again I deny it for maybe I am merely hoping and making it up in my head. I've done nothing to deserve or warrant such attention, affection. Every now and then I hear you and I listen. I go with you to the places you lead me and I stay for a little while. True contentment. But then someone or something else calls to me. My wandering heart deceives me. Deceives us. In the meantime, I breathe in other gods and breathe out contempt for them, for myself. However, my soul's cry never changes with the gods of a season. My soul always cries, "Abba!" My mind and my heart constantly feed on this world, but my soul cannot be deceived. It has been bought and paid for. It doesn't even belong to me. God of my soul become the God of my heart and the God of my mind. Rule over me and teach me your ways, your thoughts and lead me to your kingdom here on this earth. Free me from the holds of death. Bring me up into the light. Take me and keep me no matter how much I fight or how far I run. Teach me the concept which I fail to claim for myself. The very concept that could change my life. Teach me about grace. Help me to cling to and claim that nothing I do or don't do has any hold on your love or want for me. Jesus, I want to live like you love me. My soul knows it. Please may my heart and mind follow.
Amen.
I have forgotten you. I have sought you on occasion. I have spent time with you in spurts. I have gone months at a time without calling your name and in doing so I have also forgotten me. I am nothing without you. I live and love barely on the fumes of our last encounter. I talk and do and think and feel with no real purpose. I get tired easily. I feel frustrated always. At times I hear you call for me and my heart quickens and I feel alive for an instant. Then I hide away. What can I say to the One who gives me everything while I give absolutely nothing? So the light in my eyes dims once again. Often I hear a song, a verse, a poem, a story and know you are speaking to me, feeding my soul, but again I deny it for maybe I am merely hoping and making it up in my head. I've done nothing to deserve or warrant such attention, affection. Every now and then I hear you and I listen. I go with you to the places you lead me and I stay for a little while. True contentment. But then someone or something else calls to me. My wandering heart deceives me. Deceives us. In the meantime, I breathe in other gods and breathe out contempt for them, for myself. However, my soul's cry never changes with the gods of a season. My soul always cries, "Abba!" My mind and my heart constantly feed on this world, but my soul cannot be deceived. It has been bought and paid for. It doesn't even belong to me. God of my soul become the God of my heart and the God of my mind. Rule over me and teach me your ways, your thoughts and lead me to your kingdom here on this earth. Free me from the holds of death. Bring me up into the light. Take me and keep me no matter how much I fight or how far I run. Teach me the concept which I fail to claim for myself. The very concept that could change my life. Teach me about grace. Help me to cling to and claim that nothing I do or don't do has any hold on your love or want for me. Jesus, I want to live like you love me. My soul knows it. Please may my heart and mind follow.
Amen.
4.02.2009
amid uncertainties
The last few days have been different. It's hard to put a word at the end of that sentence. I don't really know that I could find the right one. Circumstances have altered and I've had to think about life and how quickly the life I know now could change. In a heartbeat.
I am so relieved that while I might be frivolous when it comes to the way I choose to spend my time my Creator is never off the clock. I want to be more conscious about what I do with my days and why. I have feared so much lately that I am just wasting my life. The clock ticks louder and louder. And I think about the purpose I'm not serving by ignoring the ticking.
God's been really good to me. Christ continually serves me. The Spirit continually feeds me. But I don't notice. I don't really take it in.
The truth is that if my life changes drastically, the hours I wasted watching TV, the hours I wasted jealously perusing facebooks of aquaintences, and the hours spent thinking about prioritizing won't make a bit of difference.
There's only one thing that is going to make a bit of difference when all things as I know them fall away.
There's this girl, Brook Fraser. I am obsessed with her music. Every song on her CD is practically my soul's anthem. The song for me today is this:
I am so relieved that while I might be frivolous when it comes to the way I choose to spend my time my Creator is never off the clock. I want to be more conscious about what I do with my days and why. I have feared so much lately that I am just wasting my life. The clock ticks louder and louder. And I think about the purpose I'm not serving by ignoring the ticking.
God's been really good to me. Christ continually serves me. The Spirit continually feeds me. But I don't notice. I don't really take it in.
The truth is that if my life changes drastically, the hours I wasted watching TV, the hours I wasted jealously perusing facebooks of aquaintences, and the hours spent thinking about prioritizing won't make a bit of difference.
There's only one thing that is going to make a bit of difference when all things as I know them fall away.
There's this girl, Brook Fraser. I am obsessed with her music. Every song on her CD is practically my soul's anthem. The song for me today is this:
3.30.2009
when all there is left to do...
I am a “wait”er. I also tend to be a procrastinator.
Two different terms. Two different sets of logic.
Now in my mind the only reason to procrastinate is to avoid work. So I procrastinate because I would rather do something better or I would rather be lazy until the last possible second. I am avoiding something merely because I don’t feel like doing it right away.
I think I am more of a “wait”er.
“I will call the doctor about my stomach if the pain doesn’t go away in a week or so.”—“I will make an effort to hang out with my friends when I feel less like a Debbie Downer. I just have to cheer up first.”—“I will start eating better after this week…last week was really tough and this week is super busy and I can’t give up comfort food yet.”—“I will start this blog after I’ve had a straight week without missing time alone with Christ in prayer and His Word. This way I might having something worth saying.”
Can you see the difference? I procrastinate because I’m lazy, but I wait because I’m scared.
This blog has been plaguing me. I started it months and months ago. I signed up for it. Named it. I played with different templates then went to bed. Maybe a week went by and I came back to play with more templates and customizing fonts and colors then went to bed. I thought then, “Things are busy so maybe I’ll start it over the holiday break when I am out of school and can sit down to think about it.” So I came on at the very beginning of my break and wrote my first entry just to see what it would look like...
Ever since I have written a hundred entries. Some while I drove to and from work. Some when the kids were at lunch and the classroom was quiet and still. Some when I was sitting in church. Some when I was sitting in the company of friends and family. A few when the lights in my house had gone out and the moon cast a bluish glow through my window. But none ever made it here for fear my thoughts were corny, cheesy, stupid, shallow or inaccurate.
I’ve got no idea why the thought of having a blog has been plaguing me so much. I’ve got no idea who would even read it. All I know is that I’m tired of writing my thoughts onto vague canvases then coming back to rework them into thin air. So I am going to write. I am going to stop waiting to be witty enough. I am going to write when I miss my time with God. I am going to write when my thoughts might even be "out of line" or inaccurate. I'll write because for some reason writing is what I need to do.
Two different terms. Two different sets of logic.
Now in my mind the only reason to procrastinate is to avoid work. So I procrastinate because I would rather do something better or I would rather be lazy until the last possible second. I am avoiding something merely because I don’t feel like doing it right away.
I think I am more of a “wait”er.
“I will call the doctor about my stomach if the pain doesn’t go away in a week or so.”—“I will make an effort to hang out with my friends when I feel less like a Debbie Downer. I just have to cheer up first.”—“I will start eating better after this week…last week was really tough and this week is super busy and I can’t give up comfort food yet.”—“I will start this blog after I’ve had a straight week without missing time alone with Christ in prayer and His Word. This way I might having something worth saying.”
Can you see the difference? I procrastinate because I’m lazy, but I wait because I’m scared.
This blog has been plaguing me. I started it months and months ago. I signed up for it. Named it. I played with different templates then went to bed. Maybe a week went by and I came back to play with more templates and customizing fonts and colors then went to bed. I thought then, “Things are busy so maybe I’ll start it over the holiday break when I am out of school and can sit down to think about it.” So I came on at the very beginning of my break and wrote my first entry just to see what it would look like...
Ever since I have written a hundred entries. Some while I drove to and from work. Some when the kids were at lunch and the classroom was quiet and still. Some when I was sitting in church. Some when I was sitting in the company of friends and family. A few when the lights in my house had gone out and the moon cast a bluish glow through my window. But none ever made it here for fear my thoughts were corny, cheesy, stupid, shallow or inaccurate.
I’ve got no idea why the thought of having a blog has been plaguing me so much. I’ve got no idea who would even read it. All I know is that I’m tired of writing my thoughts onto vague canvases then coming back to rework them into thin air. So I am going to write. I am going to stop waiting to be witty enough. I am going to write when I miss my time with God. I am going to write when my thoughts might even be "out of line" or inaccurate. I'll write because for some reason writing is what I need to do.
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