my grandpa and narratives

I've decided blogging will have to take place while I'm busy or not at all! It's funny how I let myself do things like that. Drats.
I've recently found out that my grandpa is having trouble remembering things. One of those things you don't really want to hear ever - especially when you're far away. It made me think, though, about (among other things) the odds of my being here and being who I am and other philosophical drivel. My grandpa, when he was in the war, was a medic. The group of men he was stationed with was going to fight, but he couldn't go because he caught the measles! This story was told to me, mind you, as a young child, so the details are fuzzy. Most, if not all, the men who fought that day were killed. Measles saved my grandpa's life! Weird. Something as small and commonly inconvenient as the measles kept me from nonexistence. That's, without a doubt, a weird, melodramatic kind of story, but it's part of the narrative I think of when I think of my grandpa. I wonder, too, how often things like that happen of which I'm unaware. All these things that are really quite essential to not just my being here but also to my family's story that sometimes get passed over. So basically, all of this to say I wonder if we should put more emphasis on family narratives. Maybe we should put more emphasis on narratives in general. We remember where we came from so it shapes where we're going. Our country? Friendships? The catholic (small c) church? Other things? Sheesh. I'm fairly certain we could stop and think calmly (as a professor of mine would say) about endless narratives which we're a part of and are still affecting. I kind of like that idea. I kind of don't like that idea, too. Almost makes me want to be a historian... Just wondering if other people thought about this sort of thing as well. Maybe we could start a club and even have dps devise a slogan for t-shirts. : )

it's the beginning again

I pull in on Broadway and make my way to 9th street. Common buildings, but less familiar people (except for my one friend who happens to run across the street in front of me). I try to give my friend directions from 474 to 74, surprised I can even figure it out. Thank goodness for maps and cellphones. As I get out of my car a rush of comfort fills my heart. I find myself back at my home away from home. Ready, a tad unsteady, quite hungry, and eager to unload my car, I make my way to retrieve my hall keys. I reach door 208 and find myself relieved that all the furniture is there. No strange smell is evident. The bed looks clean. The floors recently waxed. I decide where on earth in this room I am going to put everything I have stuffed into my four door car, plus a few more objects my parents are bringing up tomorrow. I work up a sweat halling things up 28 stairs, down a hallway, past a full length mirror and bathroom door, to the open door under the third light fixture. The other RAs in my building travel across the terrace to the cafeteria and are releaved to find air conditioning. I walk in a find my heart content once again that the faces of people I haven't seen in 3 months. Faces with so many more experiences than I. Faces with so many more troubles. Faces with so much more faith. Yet, I strive for that joy. I greet almost everyone I see, asking the traditional back to school questions, inquiring about the time off, and their jobs. Everyone appears happy to be back, happy to see one another. A traditional "icebreaker" is used to start off our first session for Residence Life training. Most of the times I find these really annoying and tedious, perhaps because every group I've taken part in uses these. Yet, with this group, I didn't find it annoying. It's a new group of people working with here. After our session I eagerly return to my room to make it my room. I put my curtain up, set up my light, and begin to unpack. It has me written all over it. With "Singin' in the Rain," "The Beatles," and Jim Edmonds watching over me, I log on to my computer. My favorite pictures of some of my favorite people adorn my shelf, as well as the books I hope to read for leisure. I venture down to the hall kitchen and pop my favorite popcorn and return to my room to put my most recent purchase in my television. What could be better than talking with two good friends, eating great popcorn, and Pride and Prejudice playing? No much, I would say. Pretty good way to start off the year. Granted, I won't be able to relax as much, butI've made myself comfortable here. It's just part of it. It gets easier. Not saying that it will be easy all the time, but I understand what must be done. I'm blessed to be able to be here, and I should take advantage of that. I'm pretty sure that I will, too. I can only home and pray that the rest of you have luck and are blessed. I'll be out there praying for y'all. Take care folks.

Lamentations 3:22-26

add to the beauty, friends

Loving a person just the way they are, it's no small thing
It takes some time to see things through
Sometimes things change, sometimes we're waiting
We need grace either way

Hold on to me
I'll hold on to you
Let's find out the beauty of seeing things through

There's a lot of pain in reaching out and trying
It's a vulnerable place to be
Love and pride can't occupy the same spaces baby
Only one makes you free

Hold on to me
I'll hold on to you
Let's find out the beauty of seeing things through

If we go looking for offense
We're going to find it
If we go looking for real love
We're going to find it

Loving a person just the way they are, that's no small thing
That's the whole thing
Loving me just the way i am, it's no small thing
It takes some time. It takes some time
- Sara Groves, Loving a Person

It seems a shame to waste Sara's words when no one reads the blog. Everytime I hear it, though, I just feel like letting people know the importance of the concept. If anyone ever reads this and catches me not paying attention... to people and loving them... let me know. Maybe I'll post it in a more trafficked place when the time is more appropriate. Add to the beauty, friends.

in need of a therapist? hmmm

I'm fairly certain no one reads blogs anymore because blogs no longer exist. However, I've been wrong before. So I thought I'd throw this out there because I can, and I could use opinions. I also feel compelled to tell anyone reading this that I'm cheating. A friend of mine from school posted about home and school on our blog (SheepFarm). This was my comment back to her. So if you find yourself with nothing to do, do me a favor and tell me if all this is normal. I've never done this college thing before... : )

I miss you, too! I miss everyone. The thing is, when I'm at school I miss everyone at home. And so, I've decided that college should not end, as I've been telling Nancy, but instead it should simply move to my house. Now that we have all that figured out... I'm glad you posted about this. I've been thinking about it a lot because for me home is just the same. My best friends and I are still best friends and we just fell back into routine like the past nine months were just another year of high school or something. My house is still the same, aside from the move my parents are getting ready for (really sad, by the way). My town is the same. The only thing that's different is that I have really amazing friends and relationships with people eight hundred miles away that none of my friends/family here know.

I was walking with my friend tonight. Walking's always been our out. We've walked off countless frustrations and heartbreaks. We've walked while studying for exams. We've walked miles in our town down the same streets that we walked today. This, though, was our first walk back. There wasn't anything abnormal about it. Going for another walk, just picking up as if things weren't different. At one point, though, I just briefly had a thought about my best friends from school. Then I realized that Paige knows your names. She could probably even pick you out of pictures (because she's good like that), but she doesn't know you. That's weird for a friend as close and great as Paige is to me. For me to have these close relationships with people she's never even talked with. Weird, but not.

So I've decided... : )... going home after a year of school is weird simply because it is not.

I've also decided that my house, since I've never moved, has a ton to do with my home. It's not just because i think the house is cool (which I do) but it's because things happen here. Memories make home, too.

When I first moved to school I was so adamant about it not being my home. It would never replace my home. It didn't. But it definitely became something close to home. A word needs to be added to the English language to describe this.

I propose (not to Marcella) that we come up with a word for this phenomena... ready set go.

A few side notes: I had to sing The Doxology after our services on Sunday. People didn't know what I was doing, but I did it anyway... I miss Minter. : ) Good luck with the Alias, Sarah. And just so you know, you can't kill us. We were trained by Sydney and Jack Bristow... and Chuck Norris. : ) I'm glad we have this blog. Let's keep talking about this some... there's a ton of stuff to consider about home, I think. Maybe we should even talk about community!!! Dun dun DUN!!!

That's the end of the comment. The funny thing is I'd already written a small pamphlet, so I felt like I should stop. I have no such qualms when I'm the one posting, however. What's even funnier is that home hasn't changed but I feel like I have, out of necessity. I view things differently because of things I've learned. People don't think I've changed any, though. This, to me, is weirder still. I've noticed I do or say things and people say, "Laura's back!" like it's some surprise party or something. I'm still trying to figure out if they mean that as a good thing or something like, "Run! Hide! Go, Go, Go!" as if I'm Godzilla attacking New York. I think maybe I need post-college-freshmen-year-syndrome group therapy or something...

Well...la vie boheme

Alright, I'm not dead, just if you were wondering, though I doubt you were. The end of the semester, as always, is quite hectic. As for the title, today on the ABC Countdown is Rent Day (La Vie Boheme Day) here at Monmouth College. My roommate came up with an idea to countdown the end of the school year with days tying with the letter of the alphabet, which she came up with in high school. It's pretty cool so far. We've had Cool Handshake day, Flailing Arms day, Loser day, Overly Expressive day...just to name a few. So, in accordance with today being La Vie Boheme day, our group of friends at supper this evening are performing a large rendition of the song. For those of you who don't know, the song is from the show RENT. It's pretty good, up beat and fun to sing along with, but, being the very liberal show that it is there are some pretty crazy lyrics. All in all though, it will be fun. I'm pretty sure they're singing it when all the football players are at dinner, so it will be funny to see their reactions...punks. I have nothing against them, none whatsoever, but they sure do get away with a lot of stuff at this school. Oh well.
Good news though, April is almost over! I have six days of classes before finals start, so that's pretty exciting. However, I have entirely way too much to complete before the end of next week, as I imagine most of you do too. Well, best wishes on the end of the semester and finals and graduations and trips and everything! You're all in my thoughts and prayers.

xoxoxo

p.s. Already my roommate has listened to the song this morning about 10 times. I think I may go mad before the end of the day......ahhhhh!

dull. apologies.

I know it's getting to the end of the year, so we're both busy. However, it's kind of sad that we both really can be boring at the same time. : )

dust in the wind

This post is not going to be about the futility of life or Kansas. I'm not even going to mention the content of Ecclesiaties. So DO NOT BE ALARMED.

Earlier this afternoon I experienced my first spring dust storm (my first real dust storm of any kind, for that matter). Just another joy of living in the Big Country of West Texas. Dust in your hair, dust in your eyes. Dust on the stairs and dust in the sky! Dust in your nose and inside your mouth. Dust in all shoes all over the south. (No laughing. Dust makes you a little crazy)

I just thought someone might like to see the dust since it's a little different from anything we see in the north. It was mostly cleared up by 5:00. There's still some dust around, but there's not nearly as much as there was. I took pictures. : )





I took this picture around 5:10 or so. It's actually the after picture, but I put it first so you'd know kind of what it looks like normally. This is the Tower of Light (the big tower-looking thing in the middle) and the Sowell Rotunda of the Bible building (the white dome'ish' thing) as seen from the roof of my building. Ssshhhhhh...











This picture was taken around 2:15. It stayed like this for most of the remaining three hours of the storm. I'm not sure exactly when this all started, but it had be going on for awhile when I went to class at one thirty. You can barely see the Tower of Light in this picture. Pretty crazy.





Just thought I'd share that with y'all because I was excited. Sorry to talk about the weather. Congratulations on going to school where there are no dust storms...

Home Sweet... Community? Hmmm...

I think it's about time one of us posts something, and it looks like I'm up. I've been thinking a lot lately about home and how complex that concept is. Home can be people or a specific house or a town or a country or any number of things, really. The thing that really gets me about home, though, is how it defines who you are and what you become.

I have a friend (some of you have now met her) who grew up in Botswana, Africa. If you ask her where she's from she'll say she lives in Abilene. If you ask her where home is she'd probably tell you she lives in Abilene. In both cases, though, I think she just wants to say home is a little village in Botswana. Marcella has told me that she'll probably never get to go back home, and even if she did it wouldn't be like home anymore. Things have changed, to be sure.
I have another friend who grew up in Slovenia. I've talked with her about how she's never really been sure where her hometown is. Even now that she lives in Abilene her parents are in another country serving as missionaries, and her siblings are living in various other places. She's not even at home with her family at this point. And little ol' me grew up in a town so small and lacking in diversity that a laugh generally accompanies the demographics. The farthest I've ever moved in my life, before college, has involved no more than hauling my belongings upstairs or across the hall. I live on a family farm, for goodness sakes. I live across the road from where my dad grew up and in the same county as my mother has always lived. I like it. A lot.

There are obviously different benefits and downfalls of every place, as far as growing up is concerned. I don't have any authority as far as moving goes. I can't, from personal experience, say if it's good or bad or nothing. I do know, though, that I'm really thankful for where and how I was raised. Being able to bring someone into my town that has never been there before was really kind of amazing. I got to see things through the filter of her experience. It was nice. The really interesting thing, though, is how I have a connection to my hometown and the people who also call it home. The same is true for Marcella and Michelle. None of us would be who we are today without our home, whatever shape that home has taken.

It doesn't just stop there. ha. I've moved now, even though my home hasn't changed, and it's good because I'm now being shaped by another environment. Here in Abilene I'm shaped by my group of friends, the people on my hall and the people in my church. I think it's a real blessing (does that word seem hokey to anyone else?) that community forms and shapes people like it does. It's a really good thing, I think. Community in the truest sense of the word is exactly what we're meant for, I think. Even though it takes some critiquing to be sure we're not being influenced by something wrong, I think it's nice how we're continually being shaped by our community.

I also like that blogging doesn't have to always connect... stream of consciousness. That's where it's at.

"Can't tell you more, cuz I told you already..."

I think I've always known what I've wanted to do. While I've gone astray from it at times, I always seem to come back to it being the best choice. And this week, with the way I am spending my spring break from Monmouth, confirms it even more that I'm doing the right thing. If you haven't caught on yet - it's teaching - this wonderful thing that I want to accomplish and spend my life doing. Today, and the rest of this week, I get the opportunity to step back into my elementary school with the short desks, and tiny chairs, and alphabet and number covered walls - but this time not as a student there, but as an observer, a prospective teacher, eagerly taking in everything . It's all quite strange. I see the school in an entirely different light. The students called me Miss Halpin. I ate lunch in the teacher's lounge - with MY elementary teachers - I was a little weirded out by that, but at the same time very comfortable because they knew me.
So, I'm home, as if you didn't already know. And lately I've been talking with some PHS seniors and juniors about what they want to do with the rest of their lives. Some of them have many different thoughts, while others don't have a clue at all. This got me thinking about what I wanted to do a few years ago, and I found it amazing as to how my thoughts and focus has changed. I think that I've almost completely forgotten about my prespective and opinions from high school, which is somewhat strange, but not unimaginable - I knew it would happen, just not this quickly. I feel as if I'm too eager to grow up - all the things that growing up entail. I think I'm old while I'm young. I was born in the wrong decade or something. Most of you know my views on romance and falling in love (however I don't like the fact that it's called falling - why can't it be skipping into love, or jumping, or hopping) anyway - I'm quite old fashioned, as if you hadn't guessed. Old fashioned in every sense of the word, other than perhaps style and fashion, although I wouldn't entirely mind it all ( the Donna Reed outfits, and pearls, and bob haircuts). I speak old fashionedly, addressing people as dear, darling, sir, ma'am, lady. I think old fashionedly, at least in the chivilaric, romantic sense. My love for Pride and Prejudice is a prime example. So, what I'm trying to get at, I think is marriage - I know, where in the world did that doosey come from? Sorry, quite the tangent, just bear with me. But I'm a young lady, a young adult - it is practically inevitable for me to not think of it. However, I feel utterly foolish doing this, considering I've really never dated anyone. And frankly I don't know how to date. I know that through my own opinions, as well as the influence of others, that I would not date someone that I could not see myself marrying - but it appears that people don't know how to date anymore. Where do you get to the point where you even consider dating someone? I guess, perhaps, I'm just too frightened to even attempt to begin something - to open up and get past the point of knowing someone as more than "just a friend." I want, very much, to someday get married. But I'm not sure if I'll even get anywhere close to that. I know that I must be patient and put it all in God's hands, but it's something I struggle with all the time. I was discussing with a good friend about my life and gentlemen. She said that I ran from them - and I simply responded that there hasn't been one that really chased after me. I refuse to give up on my youthful, naive imagination and old fashioned romantic soul - for when I do that, I give up on the part of myself that make me, me. There's no giving up allowed in this gal.
So -- I'm quite astounded that I've posted so much of my heart I guess on here - I should have done it all on my blog. More people will read it, but I don't really have anything to lose anymore - only gains.

Actually there was a question or something I intended on asking, however I have gone completely off the deep end. I guess I was wondering what everyone thought about growing up. I always say that I won't grow up - I'll grow old. I just hope there's someone there to grow old with me.

LPG- don't forget about our wonderful dreams of one day owning the Fox Theatre!!

xoxoxo

i gave my heart away on february 14th.

"The world is a dangerous place, not because of those who do evil, but because of those who look on and do nothing."-Albert Einstein

It's been almost two weeks since I joined several hundred people on my campus in a packed auditorium to watch a documentary called Invisible Children. I knew the subject of this documentary somewhat. Children, Africa, oppression. I went by choice, but I was pretty much ready for another documentary trying to make me feel guilty by showing me six million pictures of malnourished kids with bloated bellies. I tend to be skeptical. I tend to be sparing with my support. Why do I do that? Is my support, my love, really worth so little that I have to keep it to myself? What I ended up seeing was three guys going to Africa and being so surprised by what they saw that they couldn't just sit back and not try to do something.

An eight year old boy -- that's just a few months older than my nephew -- abducted from his home, taken into the bush, brainwashed, and then led back to his village to abduct his siblings and friends or even kill the family he was taken from. In Northern Uganda there's a civil war taking place that began before most of the people reading this blog were born. Twenty years. Twenty years of killing. If it's not bad enough that the majority of our country is completely unaware of this even though it’s been enduring throughout our lifetime, add to it that the children fighting this civil war also weren't born before it started. A war older than the soldiers fighting it. They don't know why it's happening. They don't support the cause, but still they're forced to kill. These are young, beautiful, real Children. Over 50,000 kids have been abducted from their homes by the Lord's Resistance Army and turned into machines. They watch as other children around them are killed because they said they were tried or they missed their home. So these machines learn to shut up and do as they're told. The children of northern Uganda who haven't been abducted are afraid to sleep in their homes. Because they fear the LRA, they commute to the city every night to sleep on a hospital floors along with hundreds of other desperate children. This is what was laid out in front of me while I sat miles away in safety. Kids who walk hours to obtain some semblance of safety just to sleep and then wake up to walk the same hours back home every morning. I was confronted, not by hundreds of pictures of malnourished children (although there's plenty of that as well), but simply by hundreds of children. Real children that I watched play soccer and dance so much like my nephews and every other great kid I know. Real children with names and smiles and dreams. Children that should be innocent, but instead they're forced to know more of humanity at the age of ten than I ever have to know if I choose to ignore it. I, the anti-crier, sat there watching this through the pools in my eyes.

The United States of America controls roughly half of the world's wealth. I was talking the other day with a friend, and we both came to the conclusion, obviously not for the first time, that even the poor in America are rich compared to much of the world. Don’t our freedom (true or otherwise), the power of our government and our economy give us a responsibility to people like the children of northern Uganda? Even before I saw Invisible Children I had been trying for some time to fit my head around the idea that the only reason I'm a middle-class, white American college student is because I'm lucky. Isn't that what it comes down to? I could be a child of northern Uganda. The only thing that stopped that was luck? Later tonight I'm going to turn off my laptop, change into my pajamas, walk down the hall to my community bathroom (the one I have a tendency to complain about), and then come back to my own warm bed in my room that I share with one other wonderful person who's not even here this weekend while there’s a boy named Ofonyo Innocent (yes, very fitting) in Africa that walks for an hour and a half when he’s ready to sleep, just to survive the night. I could spend a lot of time thinking about the fortune of my physical life. I could spend a lifetime (a lot of people have, in fact) thinking about why children with beautiful souls, beautiful people are forced to live surrounded by things like civil wars. I could think about it, and I do. The problem starts, though, when I get so caught up by thinking that I don't DO anything. There's so much more than just this civil war in Uganda. There are horrible things happening literally everywhere. You all know that. I know that. I can let this overwhelm me, or I can start doing something. Sitting around thinking, as vital as it may be to understanding, is not helping anyone.

I didn’t plan to give my heart away on February 14th. I really did, though, give it away on Valentine’s Day to these beautiful children. They have lost their innocence, abducted or commuting to safety, sooner than any being should have to. Guilt was not the point of the Innocent Children documentary. I think to stop at guilt is to cheat the world. Guilt isn’t what’s needed; Change is what’s needed. It probably seems a little dumb to blog about something like this, but it’s been on my mind for a long time. I didn’t mean to ruin your day if you’re reading this, or to say this is the best documentary in the world and everyone should go buy it. I just wanted to tell y’all what’s on my mind, I guess. You can tell me what you think about this if ya want. You can even call me phony or hypocritical or something if you feel like it. : )

Innocent Children, the organization that has formed since the making of this movie, has a website. www.invisiblechildren.com You can go there and see what it’s about. You can get the documentary there if you want, as well. If the only thing stopping you from watching it is the fact that you have to buy it, let me know and I’ll buy a copy and loan it to you. Honestly. I just think it’s really important to stop being so arrogant, as Americans. I think that’s what we’re doing whether we know it or not. People need help and we can give it to them. I’d be really glad to hear what you guys think about this. Maybe I’ve said too much for that. Don’t know.

Morning the little things

I figured I could kill two birds with one stone with this post, instead of having to blog twice on different topics. Hopefully I can tie them together *fingers crossed*

The little things have always been extremely important to me. Hugs, winks, smiles, popcorn, sleep, letting someone know you're thinking of them, little notes, yada yada, you get the picture. But this post isn't about the good, little things...instead, it's about the irritating, annoying, push you over the edge, make you crack, get red in the face, hot temper, boiling, little things. If you don't understand what I'm trying to show here, I'll give an example. Your roommate being extremely loud very early in the morning, your roommate playing extremely strange and annoying, out of key music, or your roommate putting "pro-choice" signs on OUR door, or your roommate leaving her books, food, shoes, towels, etc. in the middle of our room, (if you can't tell - these are some things that are bothering me, sorry). Or, how about "larger" little things, such as the skim milk being out in the cafeteria, or all the dorms being on lockdown, or a fire alarm going off at 1:30 in the morning when it is 15 degrees outside. Now, it may sound as if I am complaining, but hold on, I'm not. I'm merely giving you some examples of little struggles I am approached with sometimes daily.

Now, I'm going to interject another point. I love mornings and sunrises. A renewed day, fresh air, the brisk breeze - everything about it. I've become somewhat of a morning person this semester. While I struggle the first few moments after my alarm goes off, once I get past those precious moments of mine, all is better. I've found that as I soon as I rise I prefer quiet - no talking, for just about 5 minutes or so. After that, I'm generally singing or humming. During my "quiet time" I don't like interruptions or loud noises, for I am often I am praying, and love my quiet. Also, this semester in Chapel and my own Scripture readings I have been told to begin my days, early in the mornings, coming to God. Asking Him and thanking Him at the beginning of the day, each and every day. In the song "God of Wonders", I'm sure most of you know it, the second verse goes - "Early in the morning I will celebrate the Light. And as I stumble into darkness, I will call Your name by night." Now, I just love those lines, and I agree with them. By beginning your day right with God it just makes your entire day better. There's a commercial for either Orange Juice or cereal of some sort that's slogan is "Start your day right." It should be the main slogan for God!

So, here goes the connection between the two.

Lately, I have been starting my days off by praying, and so far it has been so great. I love praying when I'm outside, especially walking to early morning classes. I've become quieter and more reserved this semster (shocking isn't it? : 0) I find so much peace and stillness, both in me and around me, when and after I pray. It's wonderful. I used to not want to pray to God asking me for help with the little things. I thought that was being slefish and petty. But now, I realize that those are things I need the most help with, and I must ask for His Help with these things. I must pray for patience and an even temper with things such as situation with my roommate, and the skim milk being all gone, and the locked doors, or a late night fire drill. I can't flip out and complain about all the little things...for if I do, then how will I ever accomplish anything big? I was just wondering what the rest of the lovely blog world thought of this "morning and little things" topic, and how you, wonderful people, handled it all?

I hope that you all had a very lovely Happy Heart Day!

xoxo

subconscious longing

Funny thing happened this Valentine's Day. I woke up and put on my 'Steroid-Free' Swing Choir shirt. Coincidence? Maybe, but I think it was mostly my subconscious missing Singing Valentines.

it's in the air

Sing Song is coming to ACU, folks. Get ready!

Don't celebrate mediocrity - celebrate Greatness!

In this day and age, people are being asked to give and give. People are stretched to their breaking points and to the limit. I know, for I have been there, and it's not a pleasant place. I became irritable, grouchy, and wasn't focusing on God. I forgot about the most important thing - loving God. So, when I had someone challenge me to be more generous, I was somewhat baffled. More generous? How could I give more? I already had too much to do, but then she told me what to be generous with:
*More generous with my time with God.
*More generous with my faith. Share Christ!
*More generous with my Life!
I thought about these and tried to figure out how I could do this. I realized that I must do this, I must apply this to my life. I have since then talked to many of my friends, both here at back home, about God and faith, as well as my mom, and my roommate, who doesn't believe in Him. I thought that I would just listen to music as I walk to class, but I find that praying is even better when I am outside, looking at the beauty He created. I have also figured out which service activities are the most interesting to me. Big Brothers Big Sisters seems to be the one which I am most passionate about right now, so I have to figure out how to fit that into my schedule. I want, no, I need to make my life a service. I want to live for others. Since I have been applying these things to my life, things seem to look brighter. My faith has grown and I'm truly happy! It's so nice to know that God's always there, wanting me, and so many others, to pursue and love Him whole heartedly.

It is amazing how kindness can be such a wonderful thing, and how rarely it is used these days. People forget to be kind. We all are guilty of getting caught up in our own lives, that we forget those around us. But we must try to remember all of them, for we have good news! God's love is good news, that will never grow old. We can be supernaturally kind through the measure of the fruitfulness of our prayer. Obligingness, doing things without being asked; we must try to out do one another in generosity. Remembering names, favorite things, situations, etc. are all ways in which we can make people feel important, through our sincere words. Try not to get into trouble with our words, for we can get in trouble with saying both true and false things. We must learn where that fine line is drawn.

Thank you for reading my thoughts : )

ode on a wonderful sister

Twenty-two years ago today, my wonderful sister Kristen was born. Now, I wasn't there to witness the event, being as she's basically three years older than I, but I'm sure she was a beautiful baby (I've seen pictures, she was). I remember a things from our younger years. I remember hosting our own "T.V. shows" and running races around the house during rainstorms. I remember the cardboard boxes we turned into cars and "fishing" for leaves and the chipmunks! Oz Oz Oz... Eyeballs! I remember sharing a bedroom and waking her up in the middle of the night just to say, "Kristen, are you awake?" because I was scared of the dark. I also remember that annoying her! I remember getting into fights about dumb things that we thought were justified, but they weren't. I remember Dad making us count up the days until she left for college so we'd realize that things were about to change for ever. I remember her leaving for school and then leaving the country to share Christ's love in a dramatic way. I remember going to visit her while she was in Ukraine and being amazed at the work Christ was doing there through her. I remember being very proud of her -- I still am.

My sister turned twenty-two today. Even though she's only two hours away I miss her! I miss having her on my side of the phone and being able to give her a hug... yes, to give her a hug... or sit on top of her! Soon she's getting married to a guy that comes as close to being perfect for her as any man could be, and then after awhile he's going to whisk her away out of the country again. I'll miss her then, too. It makes me wish I would have listened to my dad more when he told us to pay attention to the great thing we had right there in front of us. He's a smart guy. Most of all, though, through all the great memories and the bad memories and the sad memories, there's been love. I've loved her while we were chasing pigs, and while I was about to pull my hair out because she wouldn't just let me borrow a shirt, and I love her now when I miss her a lot. My sister's great, and I'm glad she was born.

so what now?

Paige I’ve about decided that we may be talking to ourselves, so I’m going to address this to you and not the rest of the cyber world. If others are in fact seeing this then I would be very honored if you would read this post and comment if you want… Pretend you’re Paige!

I was just wondering mostly what your views on absolute truth are, in light of your views on relativism. I know you said some things about it, but I was wondering if you would care to expand. You said God’s love is the truth, and I agree whole-heartedly. I want to know how you find yourself putting this into practice. If God’s love is truth and we have that then we should be doing something about it, no? So what now? I’m not accusing you of anything, by the way, just simply wondering the ways that you do this. We should be love to everyone else around us just like God is love to us. I get frustrated sometimes because it seems like a lot of people just say this and then don’t live it out! Even though none of us are perfect, the fact still remains that a lot of us do this on a regular basis. We don't notice people. We aren't God's love to them. Does that bother you? Are we to love only those we want to love? Are we just to love on their own terms? How can that be right? Is it our fault if we don't see people in need? It’s certainly not what Jesus did on a day to day basis. His love was radical. Just thinking of the social implications of what Jesus did so many times astounds me. Eating with sinners and touching leprous people were a way of life for him. And that wasn’t because that’s where he belonged! Humility! I think the truth of God’s love is seen most when we notice and love people, not just so we reach our quota of love for the day, but because we are becoming like God. Just some things I’ve been thinking about. I’d like to hear what more you have to say on the matter. : )

I'm a sell out...a sell out for God!

This past weekend, for those of you who didn't know, I attended a Catholic Youth Conference in Chicago. I wasn't sure what to expect at first, but I knew that I was looking forward to it. Throughout my three days there I got the opportunity to listen to many well known speakers who spoke on topics such as heroic generosity, feminism in the church, kindness, how to date well, and relativism. While all of them were very informing, some more than others seemed to speak to me, especially the relativism topic.
I had heard this term tossed around before, but I wasn't sure exactly what people meant by it. For those of you who aren't sure what relativisim means, it is believing that there is no truth, no standards...pretty much no God. It is amazing how our society and media have made the youth believe that "our lives" are our own and that we should live them that way; that we have no committments and that our decisions don't matter. But for those of us who fully believe and trust in God we know that God's love is the truth and that we must live for others. Our life is a story, connecting to many others through our families and friends, and the decisions that we make not only affect our own lives but the lives of those around us. We must also follow God's law for us and use it as our instruction manual for life. Many relativists think that Christians are not free and when we believe and follow our faith that we don't have that freedom any more, but alas, we are totally free. Free to love, free to live life with excellence, but we need virtues and skills in order to succeed. The relativistic view of life is a selfish concept and we need to realize that. We must not be controlled by fear. Have the courage to standout!

What voice are you listening to? What life are you going to live? Learn to trust completely.
When we live in Christ, our purpose changes. No more excuses, we must face the problem at hand. The Kingdom is my pearl of price...at which I would do anything for.
We must decide what our 5 loaves and 2 fish are; what we are going to give to Jesus? What is your calling? Again, we must learn to trust completely...and GET OUT OF THE BOAT!
"It is no longer I who lives, but Christ who lives through me."

I had a very enjoyable time at this conference, and I also got to see Gretchen. If you would like to hear more, I have lots of notes. I would also love to hear what you all have to say about relativism or any other topic for that matter. Hope you all have a very good week. Remember to pray big!
xoxo

i have seen a marvelous thing under the sun

Has anyone ever heard of a jump roping team? I know I hadn’t, but I saw one perform today at an ACU basketball game. I mean, I know Texas certainly has its own color, *cough cough* - don’t hate me Katie! - but I thought they just roped cows and horse thieves. So I was kind of ready for something dull or a little obtuse when the Sweetwater Jump Roping Team was announced at halftime. Maybe a little double-dutch or that thing you do when you cross your arms (I’m sure there’s a technical word for it) and jump were the kind of things I was expecting. These kids, though, walked into Moody Coliseum and started counting off a whole routine. They jumped rope while standing and turning around and sitting on the ground. They even did bell hops while jumping rope! Bell hops! I have a hard time doing those without a jump rope. I was thoroughly amazed. I sometimes think standing ovations are handed out too readily nowadays, but I definitely thought this merited the energy it took me to stand. In the words of my wonderful roommate, “They just rocked my world. I’ll never be the same again.”

No one knows why...

I’ve decided blogging is weird. I mean, what is it for? You start a blog (or have Paige do it for you), and basically you’re assuming a lot. You’re assuming that you have something worthwhile to put into the cyber world. You’re assuming you will be able to convey that thought in an engaging manner. You’re assuming, after all of that, people will want to read it, and you’re also assuming you can deal with the critics that will obviously look down on your effort. Sad. So blogging is weird and scary, but alas, blogging it is. I'm happy about it. Thanks, Paige.

wakka wakka

Yippidy Doo Da Day!! It's Alive!! Muaahhahahaha. Watch out world.

prepare yourselves

Welcome to the combined mind of Laura Brokaw and Paige Halpin. With tons of others starting their own blogs, we decided that it would be interesting if we both blogged together (sort of how Derrick is running his fantastic blog). This will also be a great way for both of us to keep up with each other, considering we are both very busy and have completely different schedules. If someday in the future Gretchen were to get a computer, then this blog would officially be a LPG conspiracy. HAHA!
We hope that other people will comment and read this, and we hope that it will be outrageously entertaining, informative, and helpful...if that's possible?

Happy blogging, Laura!

To the rest of you- Happy reading!

*Paige