i'll be...

It is the night before Christmas Eve and I'm cuddled up in my pajamas, listening to some music and knitting. I am so broke this Christmas so I'm making scarves for everyone. They all know about it and are completely underwhelmed about their presents, but oh well. It's all I have this year. Anyways..the song “I'll Be” by Edwin McCain started playing. This song is mainly associated  with the Cinderella Story for most people under 25, but it was actually written long before.

I was immediately transported back in time to the first moment I heard that song. I was at a wedding with my two sisters and father. It was June 27, 1998 and the bride and groom danced to this song as their first dance. My sisters and I looked on dreamily...ok, maybe just me, but I remember exactly what I was thinking about...

The lyrics kind of go like this: “Tell me that we belong together...I'll be captivated, I'll hang from your lips instead of the gallows of heartache that hang from above. I'll be your crying shoulder...I'll be the greatest fan of your life.”

As the bride and groom stared into each other's eyes, I sat there and thought of my boyfriend and how this was going to be our new song. I was a dreamy-eyed sixteen year old who was madly in love, give me a break. They say you never forget your first love. Well, I didn't. I have a slightly unusual story, so it's not that hard to remember. Plus, lets face it—I've always been a little unlucky in love. It's the best and worst story I've ever had. Nothing else has compared.

So tonight as I listen to music and reminisce, I'm going to take you along with me on my journey through time. His name was Andy. He was obnoxious. I was fourteen when I first met him at my church's youth group. He was sixteen at the time. He apparently was completely enamored by the fact that I didn't talk. I was a quiet, shy girl with not much experience with guys. They scared me! They still kind of do ha.

I was walking along the side of the church building, headed to the parking lot, when he came up beside me and basically body slammed me. “Hey, Wright! When you gonna start talking to me?” I went flying against the stucco wall of the church, and just stared back at him in shock. I thought to myself “how rude!” I gave him a look of death and continued on to the parking lot without ever speaking a word to him. This continued for a short time until summer camp. I somehow avoided him all week long at church camp. I was totally in love with this guitar player named Gabriel. He was from another church, and of course I didn't have the nerve to talk to him all week.

Somehow on the way home from camp, I had the “luxury” of sitting across from Andy on the bus. In his normal manner, he teased me and annoyed me the entire way home. At one point, he hijacked my pillow, propped himself up against it and stared at me as if he'd won the war. He began singing a song to me... “If I had a million dollars, I'd buy Tanya a really big ring. And if I had a million dollars...” The song continued for what seemed like forever with many made up ridiculous lyrics. All of the sudden, the months of obnoxious torment melted away as if they never existed. He had won the war. I fell for him that day—January 28, 1996.

It was a month later that we were in Nassau, Bahamas on a youth missions trip. I saw a whole new side to Andy that week. He had such a passion for ministering to those children. I had never seen this focused and hard-working version of him. That week, he presented me with a red rose and asked me to be his girlfriend.

Sixteen days into our relationship, he told me he loved me. I said “ok.” The very cautious side of me thought, this is way too soon. I waited one more week before saying it back. What can I say? I'm a pushover. The night of our first month anniversary was very important to me (sad, I know). It was Wednesday night and we had youth group. The guys always played basketball for an hour before our Bible study. I sat at the side waiting for him wondering if he would remember it was our anniversary. He came running in and didn't see me. He just threw his book bag down and ran to play basketball. An hour later when they were done, he finally looked around for me, picked up his bag and pulled out a pretty pathetic bouquet of purple carnations. It was the most beautiful thing to me.

We had a very tumultuous relationship to say the least, but majority of it I believe had to do with his home life. I don't remember everything too clearly, but I know it wasn't good. There were so many nights he would call crying. He was so heartbroken concerning his family. We didn't last long. He wanted to make out (men are so typical haha), and I didn't trust him. I thought he was a player and as soon as I give in to him, he's going to use me and throw me to the side. I wasn't ready to give him my first kiss yet. He realized I was a little tougher than he wanted to put up with so he tossed me aside just as I had assumed. And I held on tight to my first kiss.

We stayed like that until the next summer's missions trip to Dominica. We started dating again, but that didn't last long either. By this point, his family had fallen apart and he had moved in with another family. He was finally able to find some stability. We dated on and off for two years. It was always the same. I didn't trust him not to leave me, so I stayed closed off and distant. He would leave me and find several girls opposite me, then he'd come back to me. Plus, I think his friends didn't really like me. It was a vicious cycle. We were always hurting one another, yet we couldn't walk away from each other completely.

One thing remained. Every missions trip with him, I fell deeper in love. He was a whole different person on those trips. I was mesmerized. We were preparing for one in Key Largo, FL when we finally went on our first date alone. We were so young when we first started dating that I wasn't allowed before then. I finally gave him my first kiss that night. It was a long time coming, but totally worth it. A week later we headed to Key Largo and held a vacation Bible school for the kids. Every time I turned around, he sat with his Bible opened on his lap sharing the gospel to a different kid. It never mattered what went on in his life—the drama, the heartbreak—he had one goal during his young life. He wanted to tell others about his Heavenly Father.

I remember the last night we were there in the Keys. It was after our curfew and we had sneaked out of our hotel rooms to talk on the stairwell. Yes, talk and only talk. He confided in me about some more family drama that had happened before he had come on the trip. We sat there for what seemed like forever with his head on my shoulder while he cried. I've never been so angry at people as I was at that moment. I was so upset at the fact that someone had hurt him that deeply and that there was nothing I could do to take away that pain. So I just prayed with him and cried with him and held him.

It was so amazing to me that he had been dealing with this baggage all week long, and no one could tell. He was fun and upbeat. The kids had a blast with him. He didn't let it interfere once. I didn't understand how he was able to do it. I wanted to be like him. I envied his strength and determination. He was a great guy and had a great future ahead of him. He had just graduated high school and had plans to attend college in the fall. He told me once he wanted to be the first honest president. Yep, he even sounded like a politician—making promises he couldn't keep. I knew things would probably end again for us when he left for college. I knew this happy phase we had going on wasn't going to last long, but I didn't care. I loved him and all of his obnoxious qualities. I was not going to think of anything but the moment and that's exactly what I was doing the night of that wedding. I just sat there and listened to that song and thought of how blissfully happy he made me at that moment. I didn't think about the past two tumultuous years or the possibility of a gloomy future for us.

That next morning after the wedding was just like every Sunday morning. Grandma was in town visiting and after church she took me shopping for some clothes for church camp the following week. We knew something had happened when we arrived at church for the evening service and my parents weren't there. We hurried home and after seeing my mom's pale white face I immediately thought it was one of my grandparents. Then my dad pulled me aside into the living room and sat me on the couch next to him. I thought it was odd that he didn't include my sisters so I pulled on their hands to include them. My dad wrapped his arms around me so tight. I remember not being able to breath, he was holding me so hard. The only other thing I remember hearing was the next words: “Andy's gone to be with Jesus.” My whole world fell apart at that moment. In my sixteen years of life so far, I had never, ever experienced a pain as intense as I felt at that moment.

It was June 28, 1998. Two years exactly after that bus ride home from camp. He had gone jet skiing with a group from the church. It was one of his show-off tricks gone bad. He was hit by another jet ski and died on impact. He was only eighteen. I remember thinking how ridiculous it was that God took him. He had such great potential. I thought it was so stupid that God took him and not me. I didn't have anything to offer the world like Andy did. It took me awhile to realize that at least I have his story, and I can share that. That's the least I can do for him. Then my dad told me at one point that some people live their life like a candle—its a long, slow burn. But then there are some who's lives are like fireworks. Their lives are short, but they make a big impact. Andy was one of those. I know he at least made an impact on my life.

He had led a total of seventy-five kids to Christ during the mission trips. The day of his funeral, we packed the church with over four hundred people. Forty came to know Christ that day. I know of a few more who's lives were changed who never even had the opportunity to know him, but heard his story. He wasn't anyone special. I know there were times when I built him up into something he wasn't, then I just remembered all the annoying things he did. He was obnoxious and said “basically” way too many times. He loved kissing girls. I remember the week after the funeral, we were at camp and all the girls were in a circle with me. They all admitted to kissing him at least once except my best friend. Then she even admitted he tried. At least she was loyal haha. He was a normal, typical eighteen year old. He wasn't the best boyfriend or friend. He had a lot of baggage. But the fact remains, I was his biggest fan and I think in many ways I always will be.

all about me...

I'm in Philadelphia with my most of my family and I'm continually reminded of how good I have it. God has just blessed in so many ways. Not everyone has it as good as I do. I saw a few homeless people set up outside of South Station in Boston on Saturday when Jess and I were leaving for Philly. Last night, a woman at my parent's church mentioned seeing a man with a tent pitched off the side of the highway. A friend of mine lost her mother this summer after a long battle to illness. Another friend may be spending her last Christmas with her father. This will be our first Christmas without my grandfather who died of cancer in July. I know of children who have parents in prison or rehab and won't have their presence this Christmas.

So many people are hurting this Christmas. When I consider this and compare it to my own insignificant complaints, I am humbled. There are times when I consider my “trials” to be so rough and  almost unbearable then I see others who are going through worse and having such a better outlook than I do. I can be such a selfish person. It amazes me that God still wants anything to do with me when I consider how much time I spend on myself and not on others.

Just think of how much time we spend on ourselves at Christmas time. I realized that even when I buy presents for others I think about what I can get out of it. Maybe its a present for Jessica who I live across the hall from nine months out of the year. I can borrow it whenever I want. Or maybe its a present for my mom. I want praise for doing such a good job in selecting a gift. Or recognition for  being the most “thoughtful.” Or heaven forbid I actually spend more than what I get in presents. The problem is it all still surrounds me. That goes against everything Christ exemplifies for the life of a Christian, and goes against the whole purpose of Christmas.

Christmas is about remembering what God has done in gifting us with the most unbelievable Gift ever given to someone so undeserving. It is about the birth of Jesus Christ, the Messiah. The One who thirty years later presented Himself as a blood sacrifice for payment of my sins. It's not about me, but all about Him. And what He is all about is them...those who are hurting and broken. So what can I do for them this Christmas?

happy birthday to me

As many of you already know, Friday was my birthday. It was a wonderful day. Twenty-nine is not as bad as I assumed it would be. I'm not sure what I thought would happen...an appearance of wrinkles, sudden showing of gray hair, or people addressing me as ma'am. None of the above happened, but even if they did I was more than prepared to handle the situation. No fear, haha.

I just finished my finals on Wednesday night, but I'm still working on a paper. Most students were still finishing up their finals on Friday. It's always such a stressful time of year. I absolutely hate it. But thankfully this year, I didn't have to take any finals on my birthday.

Right at midnight, I received a phone call from my sister, Shayla, in Idaho. Then at random throughout the rest of the night my phone blew up with facebook notifications and birthday wishes. The joy of technology. My sister, Jessica, and her boyfriend, Brandon, took me out to lunch at the Cheesecake factory. Jess and I shared the Chicken Romano...amazingly delicious! One of my favorite dishes. We finished the lunch with a slice of a Reese's cheesecake/chocolate cake concoction. It was decadent, rich, and sinful. Never to be consumed again. It was that sinful, but oh so good. Although Brandon was sick, Jess and I still dragged the poor guy through the mall for a little shopping. He was such a good sport though. He even helped me in the overwhelmingly difficult decision of whether or not I should purchase a new journal for myself. Of course, I had to buy myself a bday present.

We returned home around 5:30pm and I was exhausted. Proof I am aging. I'm exhausted after lunch and shopping. Well, my roommate Jill was supposed to take me out. I was still full from the wonderful lunch, but there was no way I was staying in on a Friday night, much less the night of my birthday. I summoned all the energy I had left and headed out for part two of my birthday celebration. (May I just add, Jessica had cut and styled my hair Friday morning and I looked good haha) So Jill and I headed out and of course, we didn't once think about how crowded places are on Friday nights. We went to three places: one was a 2 hour wait, another was an hour and a half. We somehow ended up at Qdoba for a birthday burrito before catching a movie.

Such a fun day with so many birthday wishes. I felt so loved. I am so grateful to have so many wonderful friends and family. Saturday, I headed to Philly to spend Christmas with my family. My mom made a delicious Japanese fruit cake for my birthday and at 11pm we celebrated again. I'm just thankful she didn't make me wear the birthday crown she bought. I am extremely happy about my birthday present from her and dad though...a kindle! Finally! ha.

I have a feeling this is going to be a good year :) Can't wait to see what God  has in store for me!

how He loves

Last night, the students on campus got together to forget all about the craziness of finals, the anxiety of school bills due, and the insanity of Christmas. For this one hour we focused on nothing other than just praising God for all He has done for us. We ended the night with this song. It speaks so poetically of God's love for us. Sometimes we forget about His love. It's deep, too deep to fathom. I'm so grateful that He loves someone so undeserving as me.

He is jealous for me, 

Loves like a hurricane, I am a tree,

bending beneath the weight of His wind and mercy.

When all of a sudden,

I am unaware of these afflictions eclipsed by glory,

And I realize just how beautiful You are

And how great Your affections are for me.

Oh, how He loves us so.

Oh how He loves us, 

How He loves us all.

Yeah, He loves us,

Oh, how He loves us.

We are His portion and He is our prize,

Drawn to redemption by the grace in His eyes,

If His grace is an ocean, we're all sinking.

And Heaven meets earth like an unforeseen kiss, 

And my heart turns violently inside of my chest, 

I don't have time to maintain these regrets, 

When I think about the way

He loves us.

Oh how He loves us

("How He Loves" by David Crowder Band)

all you need is some chocolate and a good book...

So the whole topic of Christian fiction was brought to my attention when I wrote the blog about the Judsons. Emily was a fiction writer, and she faced some criticism for it. Adoniram was not Emily's first or only critic. She faced much more criticism for her writing throughout her blossoming relationship with Judson. Those who opposed her writing the most were those within the religious circle. It is the same way today. Many still have harsh views on fiction especially Christian fiction even now. Some say it is a frivolous waste of time and pointless, but I beg to differ. I believe that Christian fiction can be just as God-glorifying as any other book for many reasons.

One of the first things I learned in college was there are different types of learning. The professor explained each one in hopes of helping us find out our particular learning style. She did this in order for us to get the most out of our education. If people do learn in different ways, then obviously there should be different types of books that approach learning from different angles. Christian fiction allows an author to take Biblical principles and create a story that shows practical application. This same type of thing occurs in the Bible when Jesus used parables. It's also used today when a pastor uses a story illustration in his sermon. If the novel is based on a specific Biblical account, then it gives the reader a behind the scenes view on a well known story. It allows the reader to understand in a new light, but also when done correctly can raise further questions and inspire further study.

Another positive to Christian novels is when an author writes with the sole purpose of bringing Him glory than it does nothing other than just that. It brings Him glory when a person uses the talents and abilities He has blessed them with in order to bring Him honor. It will show through their words and all throughout their story. It can be infectious to the reader and God will be glorified.

Most people pick up a book as a reason for escape. I personally did this very thing. I needed my mind to take me away from the reality of my situations. I wanted to hide from it all, so I escaped in books. I thank God that there are good and godly authors out there that allowed me to escape into their stories and come face to face with the Answer to my problems. Those books only led me back to Him and His Word. What an honor and privilege it would be if my books became an escape for someone who was struggling and running and wanted to hide and I have the opportunity to lead them in the direction of the One who holds the answers.

I've read books all of my life. I remember the first “real” book I read all the way through. It was the first in a series about Jenny McGrady, a sixth grade mystery solver. I started that book in sixth grade and continued the series until I was finished. I still own the series to this day. It opened a whole new world to me. I did like to write even then, but it all changed when I read Redeeming Love by Francine Rivers. That book changed the landscape of Christian fiction for me. I HAD to start writing once I finished that book. Francine Rivers inspired me to pick up my pen and create and to begin painting pictures with my words—pictures of God and His love for us. Yes, its a story and it is not the Bible, but I was finally able to grasp the depth of His love and all He had done for me. It took the Biblical account of Hosea and Gomer and added a depth and complexity and brought it to life for my simple mind to understand.

It did not discount the Bible. It only led me to search deeper and to know more. I put that book down, picked up my Bible and dug deep into the story of Hosea, but I didn't stop there. I wanted to know more about the Bible. I wanted to know what else the Bible had to offer. This is one of the joys of Christian fiction. It paints a picture using words and brings their imagination to life and ultimately drawing them to Him. That's my purpose in writing. I want the reader to experience my God through my words. That they will understand Him more through a story I might tell.

I know, my work will never include a deep theological concept or an exegesis of any type. My work will never be considered scholarly or held in high esteem at any prestigious seminary. I know there will always be those who do not approve of Christian novels, but just as Emily, I will continue to write, knowing that I am doing it all for the glory of God.  

pretty woman

Friday night, I had a lot of work to do, but I was fighting it. I eventually lost the inward battle between what I should do and what I want to do and sank into a big chair in front of the tv and watched one of my favorite movies, Pretty Woman.

There's just something romantic about the rich exec with a fear of heights climbing a fire escape to rescue the prostitute he had fallen in love with. I started thinking about a similar story in the Bible. Yes, there's a Biblical version of Pretty Woman...kinda.

The nation of Israel was being disobedient and continued to turn their backs on God. This angered Him, so He asked the prophet, Hosea to do something outrageous...marry a prostitute. God wanted to paint a picture of His relationship with Israel. Hosea obeyed and married the prostitute, Gomer.

Marriage to this man brought her a redemption like no one else could offer, but she eventually ran from it. Each time she ran, Hosea followed after her. She would return to prostitution, and he bought her out of it. Time after time, this repeated, and yet Hosea never stopped chasing after her. Despite the massive blow to his male ego, despite the filthiness of her choices and their major effects on his life, he still went after her and restored her. Most men would let her go, but Hosea knew what God expected from him. He sought her out and brought her back into their marriage.

That's the way God is with me. There have been so many times in my life where despite all He's done for me, I still run. I run from His grace. I run from His love and compassion. My life laughs in the face of His sacrifice.

Even though I have moments of weakness where I run from Him, He comes after me. That's so amazing. He seeks after me and pulls me back into His redeeming arms and restores me. Even during the times I'm attempting to do right, I still have sin within me as Paul says in Romans. Even then He still delivers me. His love for me absolutely blows my mind.

“For we know that the Law is spiritual, but I am of flesh, sold into bondage to sin...I find then a law, that, when I would do good, evil is present with me. For I delight in the law of God after the inward man: But I see another law in my members, warring against the law of my mind, and bringing me into captivity to the law of sin which is in my members. O wretched man that I am! Who shall deliver me from the body of this death? I thank God through Jesus Christ our Lord. So then with the mind I myself serve the law of God; but with the flesh the law of sin.”- Romans 7:14, 21-25 KJV

This Christmas

At this time of year, we tend to think about our families more so than usual. I'm very close to my family, but at Christmas I realize just how very blessed I am to have the family that I have.

We may be a unique family, but then again who's family isn't? I cannot stop thinking about actually being under the same roof with all of them again. There will be the inevitable watching of National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation. Mom and I will have to sneak upstairs to watch White Christmas because no one else in the family wants to see it. We'll also be baking and cooking up a storm. Stay out of the kitchen!

My dad will be reclining in front of his extremely large flat screen with his surround sound full blast because lets face it, he's getting old. He'll be watching football or the constant replaying of replays from all the football games he had just watched.

Aaron will be playing his game on the computer. He's already forewarned us that we won't be having any access to the computer that week. But he might give us a schedule, allowing five minutes per person to check their facebook. (so happy for my smart phone at times like this).

Then of course, Shayla and Jessica will be in their own little world as if no one else exist in the room. We never really know what they are doing, but it's like watching TV. You can see them but they can't see you even if you're next to them. Jessica will be a constant flutter of jokes, made up dance moves, and belting songs at the top of her lungs. And may we not forget, she will definitely be cuddling with her cat, Swaheartz. She usually sings an opera-like song made up especially for the cat, and Swaheartz loves every minute of it.

Shay will be counting her presents, making sure she has the most. She's probably still mad at me about the Christmas that I wrapped up some of mom's old clothes and put Shay's name on it. She was so ecstatic to have the most presents that year. Well, until she opened them...Do you forgive me yet, Shay?

When I say they are my closest friends, I am not exaggerating. My mom and sisters are my best friends. There is nothing that I don't share with them. My family is my support system and source of love and encouragement. I know without a shadow of doubt that I am constantly surrounded by their prayers.

This year, my parents left all they had after years of hard work and dedication to start over from nothing in order to pursue God's will and a new ministry opportunity. They left a house they owned, a business they owned, and a church they had started and stepped out on faith. My dad left his beloved waves and packed up his surfboard. My mom walked away from her successful, eight-year-old salon. They moved to Philadelphia. Renting a small townhouse and starting over with nothing.

It may seem stupid to most people, but I Corinthians 1:26-29 says: “...Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth. But God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. He chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things, and the things that are not, to nullify the things that are, so that no one may boast before Him.”

My parents never cared what others would think about them and their decisions. There only thought was to do what God wanted in their lives and to bring Him glory with their lives. That's their only purpose. So this year, while we may all be broke and Shay won't have as many presents, we'll have each other. More importantly, we have the knowledge of knowing that when our parents came to a crossroads, and their faith was put to the test, they stood up to the task and completed it. They didn't buckle. They didn't cower. They acted out every truth they had ever instilled in the four of us. Therefore, I'm a blessed girl this Christmas. I will enjoy every minute of the Shay and Jess show, Aaron's few moments away from the computer, dad's blaring football recap, and White Christmas with my mom.

what a man!

I'm going to tell you a little story about Adoniram and Emily Judson. I forewarned you in blog #2 that I was going to do this, but I promise I won't tell the whole story.

Here's some preliminary information...Adoniram was a Baptist missionary to Burma. He was the man who created a written language for the Burmese before translating the New Testament into the Burmese language. Almost two hundred years later, he is still revered in Burma for all of his contributions to Burmese society. Anyways, he left the United States in 1812 with his new wife, Ann. Unfortunately, she died in 1826 while in Burma, only having been able to return to the states once in 1823. Several years later, in 1834, Adoniram married fellow missionary and widow, Sarah. They were married and served on the mission field faithfully until she died in 1845.

This brings me to Emily. She was a published writer at the age of 28, which was unheard of in 1845. She had fame and notoriety which was highly unlikely for a women, much less a woman her age. She was enamored by the idea of meeting the formidable Dr. Judson. His reputation far preceded him. It's important to understand several things. First, Judson was a novelty and a celebrity of sorts when he first decided to set out for Burma in 1812. His fame only increased as the years passed. His correspondence over the years made front page of the newspapers at times. Everyone was intrigued by this man. So when he returned back to the states for the first time in 32 years, everyone wanted to see him and hear him speak. It was on a trip to a missions conference in Philadelphia that he encountered Emily.

It started on the train ride. There was a slight accident, and Judson's traveling companion offered up Emily's latest book to Dr. Judson to pass the time. Emily happened to be a current house guest of this traveling companion. Judson was at first not impressed with the frivolous genre of literature, but was soon drawn in by her talent. He began questioning this companion about the writer, and soon found out he would get the opportunity to meet her the following day.

What is humorous to me is the fact that Judson didn't even wait until a more appropriate time to make a visit, but instead went over to the house first thing in the morning requesting to speak with this author. The way one writer describes the scene brings a smile to my face, for he basically paints the scene as Judson, grim-faced, states he will be talking TO Emily and not necessarily WITH her. Such a typical man. The writer then says that Emily made a witty remark in response that she would be honored to be spoken to by such a man.

Judson's intentions were simple. First, he felt this woman had talent, extreme talent, but he felt she was wasting it. If she was the Christian she claimed to be then she should be using her writing ability to be further the Gospel. Instead she was writing poetry and “nonsense.” He basically lectured her and questioned her intentions. She then explained her purpose in writing such literature was in order to support her parents. This apparently appeased Dr. Judson.

The next intention he had was to secure an author to write a memoir of his recently deceased wife, Sarah. When Judson and Ann left for Burma originally, she was also included in all of the attention. Sarah was an unknown to the American people, and he wanted them to be able to know and fall in love with her just as he had. He wanted Emily to be the one to do it.

Within a month, though, Adoniram and Emily were in love. It is said that she fell in love with him while listening to him talk about his love for Sarah. She wanted to be on the receiving end of that kind of love. On January 20th, a letter is written to Emily from Adoniram. This is only 25 or so days after meeting initially. I love what one writer by the name of Kendrick says:

"The following little note contains Dr. Judson's formal avowal of attachment. It seems half like sacrilege to lift the veil upon a thing so sacred as a marriage proposal; but this interweaves so ingenious and graceful a memorial of his former wives, and in its delicate playfulness illustrates so admirably a large element in his character which found little scope in his ordinary correspondence, that the reader will pardon its publication."

“I hand you, dearest one, a charmed watch. It always comes back to me, and brings its wearer with it. I gave it to Ann when a hemisphere divided us, and it brought her safely and surely to my arms. I gave it to Sarah during her husband's lifetime (not then aware of the secret), and the charm, though slow in its operation, was true at last.
Were it not for the sweet sympathies you have kindly extended to me, and the blessed understanding that 'love has taught us to guess at,' I should not venture to pray you to accept my present with such a note. Should you cease to 'guess' and toss back the article saying, 'Your watch has lost its charm; it comes back to you, but brings not its wearer with it'---O, first dash it to pieces, that it may be an emblem of what will remain of the heart of
Your devoted,
A. Judson

I was able to see the supposed watch while doing some research in Atlanta. It was an amazing experience because this watch symbolized so much to me. It was a connection that all three remarkable women possessed. Plus it just happens to be a highly romantic story. Not to mention, what women doesn't like to receive jewelry with sentimental value? That letter began a four-month long courtship. They married in June, and left the following month for Burma.

One thing that just amazes me is how such a powerful man of God who encountered so many hardships and so much pain still forged ahead in pursuit of glorifying God with ever ounce of his being. But he also had a soft side. He loved each one of his wives dearly. He romanced them and adored them. Never once comparing the other to the former. For each one of them were special in their own ways.

I also admire his tenacity. How many men do you know today, who would romance a women the way Judson did and still be righteous and God-honoring the entire time AND do it in a matter of days? Not to mention the fact the he was 58 at this time. He was good.

Have we become lazy in our search for love? I've noticed there are still some guys out there that have no problem wooing a woman they adore, but I've encountered so many who have no desire to put in a little extra effort. Am I expecting too much? I've also noticed how women no longer wait to be wooed. ( I like that word by the way, “woo”) We are so desperate to be with someone that we no longer wait for him to send flowers or a cute little note. Most of the time, we don't even wait for them to call. We do the calling. We do the asking out now. And men let us. Where's the wooing?

Seriously, am I wrong in wanting a little more than a “hey babe can I get your number?” I know I am picky, but we can do better. Men can do better. Women can do better. Where has the romance gone?

"table for one, please"

I once started reading this book called Sassy, Single, and Satisfied. It's by one of my favorite authors so I thought nothing of purchasing it and reading it through. The first section was on being sassy. I've got that part down. Then the second, obviously was on being single and sassy. Accomplished. Not necessarily by my own choice. But the final stage of the book was dedicated to being satisfied in your sassy, single state. There lies the problem. I put the book down. I have yet to finish it still, 5+ years later.

I can be sassy, and single if I must, but to be satisfied while being single is difficult. There is so much stigma to being single. Granted, most of this is self-imposed. I feel like everyone is looking at me differently when I show up at a wedding without a guest or when I show up year after year to my family's Christmas dinner still with no special someone in my life. But even though I feel this way, it doesn't mean that it really is that way.

Why is there such a negative outlook on being single? Most people would rather be in a bad relationship than actually be single. Why is that? Why would you demean yourself and put up with that just to avoid being alone?

Jesus was single. The apostle Paul was single. Yes, being with someone can be a wonderful thing, but who says being single isn't? There's less drama—far less drama. There's more freedom. I have freedom with my decisions, freedom with my money, etc. So much freedom. I don't have to consider someone else when making simple everyday choices.

Don't get me wrong, I have to remind myself all the time that single isn't so bad. It's easier when you see someone in an awful relationship. I am so grateful for my own singleness at those times. But that's what I don't understand. Why do we make justifications and put up with so much just so we can have someone? Not someone special, just someone. Why is there so much desperation to be in a relationship?

I've been through this. There have been times in my life where I've thought it's just easier to stay in this difficult relationship. It can be overwhelming thinking about how you have to start all over again. You put so much work into relationships and when they don't work out it's painful. But even as difficult as it may seem, I still think about how much better off I am.

Relationships are a blessing, but so is singleness. As a friend of mine said, it takes courage to be single. It's not easy. I'm a work in progress. I want to be in a relationship just like everyone else does, but I also know my worth in Christ and know that I am better than what I am willing to settle for in life. He has so much more for me. His plans for me may or may not include a tall man with dark hair and light eyes. The important thing is that I know who I am in Christ and that He wants to bless me and take care of me and He knows what is best for me. I need to trust in Him and His plans and have the courage to follow Him and not my own way.

Heartbreak can be difficult. At the moment it all falls apart, the heartbreak is almost too much to bear. Once you've pulled yourself away from the situation, though, you find that the pain may be more as a result of rejection and fear of being alone than actually pain caused from that person's absence in your life. Personally, this is what I've found true more times than not.

Regardless, the good news is your heart can heal. God is the only One capable of healing our broken hearts. He makes it new and whole again.

“He heals the broken hearted, and binds up their wounds.” Psa. 147:3 NIV

We still are responsible for who we give our hearts to and how much of it we give. Protect and guard your heart, and don't be afraid of being alone. It's not as scary as you might imagine.

Dream Big

As mentioned previously, I am graduating in May. I am quickly approaching a new crossroads in my life. What am I supposed to do come June? There are so many options. I don't know where to start.

Most of you who know me well, know that I have plans of writing. I have a few projects in the works, but they take so much time to finesse. I just don't have the luxury of time at this point. I do what I can, when I can, and set them aside for later. I'm a dreamer. My grandma taught me to dream when I was a little girl and I haven't stopped since.

The problem is I get new ideas and new inspirations pretty often. I can't turn my back on them. This humors my mother to no end. She can't keep up with my mind and my latest project.

 I have four novels that I am working on, two of which are near completion. I also have two non-fiction works in progress. To add to this list of things I need to work on starting in June is a screenplay.

I signed up for an honors research class--insanity, I know. The topic was Adoniram Judson. I chose to focus in on his third wife, Emily. She has quickly become my new best friend, if that's possible with a woman who's been dead for a hundred and fifty years or so. I am so obsessed with this woman and their story. I'm sure I might even dedicate a blog solely to them, but that's for another day. If you are not familiar with their story, then you need to familiarize yourself with it. Otherwise, wait until my movie comes out haha. Their story NEEDS to be told on the big screen.

So far, that's six books and a screenplay. I won't even get into my other dreams for fear you will all laugh out loud at my audacious and ambitious dreams. Although writing is my real passion and it is what I want to focus on after graduation, I am not so oblivious that I don't realize I need to pay the bills. So here is my dilemma....I need to decide on where I am moving to, if I am moving, and find a job.

This leads into some more dreams. (Oh, why can't I be a simple girl with simple dreams?) Part of me dreams of opening a little bakery/cupcake shop. I want to be able to bake all morning and create anything and everything scrumptuous and delectable. I want to have a little shop where people and come in and shop around a collection of gifts and books. I want them to be able to read, drink a cup of coffee, eat a cupcake or two, buy a purse (you know purses end up wherever I am), and relax.

But then there's another part of me that dreams of having a bridal shop with my sister. I haven't shared this dream with her. She'll be finding out for the first time when she reads this. We worked together at a bridal shop several years ago, and she caught the wedding bug too. We make a good team because we are opposite enough that we balance one another. Then again this just might be my own ploy to get my hands involved in everyone's weddings. I'm obsessed, I can't help it.

So will it be Boston, MA; Philadelphia, PA; Boise, ID; or Allen, TX? Only God knows. It's good to dream, but the key to making them reality is work and dedication. I can't just sit still hoping my cupcake shop will float to me along with a publisher. I have to get out there and make it happen. More importantly, I need to be sensitive to God and what He has planned for me. The bridal shop may not be in His plan, and I need to be ready for that. But until He closes the door, I have to be willling to work to make it happen.

"For I know the plans I have for you," says the LORD. "They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope..." Jeremiah 29:11 NLT

I would love to hear some feedback. What are some of your dreams?

...and the fun begins

Introducing the first ever official blog by me. Just a random collection of thoughts and opinions.

Because of some recent events in my life, I have become more reflective than normal. I find myself contemplating and analyzing much more than I usually do. I've also started journaling more through this process. I'm learning so much as I go, and I just feel the need to share. I've never really saw the point of blogging, but I've seen it in a different light recently. My purpose is not to complain nor to receive pity from people. I just know that everything has a purpose. If there is one person out there going through something similar and I can be an encouragement, then I don't feel so bad for myself anymore.

My 29^th birthday is right around the corner. I don't know if most people encounter such anxiety reaching their 29^th birthday as I have, but frankly I'm starting to worry about how I'm going to be before I turn 30 if 29 is this bad.

I just keep looking back at my 20s and wondering where they went and what I accomplished. I feel like I just wasted a whole decade. I'm thinking its a good thing that I've been so reflective in my last week or so at 28. This way I can really live up my 29^th year and make amends, or at least attempt to before I turn 30. I have one year and one week to accomplish something.

Here's my plan...first, I graduate this year. (And the angels sing “Hallelujah!”) It's about time. I will also be fulfilling my lifelong dream of traveling to Italy. As a bonus, I will also be visiting Israel. What could possibly be better then 14 days in Italy and Israel? Nothing. Well, maybe taking chocolate on my trip.

I had high hopes of being in love this year. Who am I kidding? I have high hopes every year. The thing is, God just doesn't have it in His plan. This is probably my biggest struggle right now. Majority of my friends are now celebrating their 5^th wedding anniversary, or welcoming their third child, or on their second marriage ha. I'm still waiting.

The conundrum for me is what does waiting entail? I know it's not wise to just wait. I've tried that. Part of the reason I accomplished nothing in my twenties. I know that I need to keep myself busy and active and accomplishing things, but then I'm too busy to meet any one. Where's the middle ground?

Another issue I'm having, let's face it, men my age who are still single are single for a reason. I know the same can be said about me but lets not get into that haha. Most men are either sexually-obsessed with commitment issues, or the 40-yr-old virgin type who has an assortment of collectible toy figurines, or the divorcee with lots of baggage.

In the last few months, I thought I had found someone only to be told that he had chosen someone else over me. It has been difficult these last few weeks trying to push my dreams back into the dusty corners of my mind. God says it's not time. I have to trust Him. He knows what is best.

This is much easier said than done. I don't always understand His ways nor His timing, but I trust Him.