I seriously cannot believe 2009 is almost coming to an end. Before midnight on New Years Eve every year, I do two things. First, I always write down all of the ‘new’ things/events/changes that have occurred that were significant enough to write down. Secondly, I of course, make a few resolutions. So, here we go.
2009 has been a really big year. So much has changed for me. Some have been hardships and recovering. This year has also brought a lot of wonderful things, as well. Most of these events/changes are too personal and mean too much to me to even write down right now, and I don’t think my words at the moment would do how I feel about these things justice. I learned so much, and 2009 will forever remain a special year for me on so many levels.
Last year on this day I sat to write down my resolutions for 2009. At the time, I only wanted one thing, joy. There was not a huge list of things I wanted to change; I just wanted to learn to find joy amidst pain. Simple enough. I figured, the rest would come. It was not always easy at the beginning of 2009, I remember. Not even a little bit easy. But, I found joy. A lot of it, and through that, I learned so much. I thank God for bringing me through 2009, and not just ‘getting me through it,’ but actually bringing me such peace, joy, happiness, and strength. I have made so many new friends, and have made wonderful memories this year. I know that my 19 year old self last year on December 31, 2008 would have been thrilled to know what 2009 would have in store.
Today, I do have a few resolutions for 2010. I am sensing this will be a wonderful year:
-Really get good at pilates
-Rekindle my relationship with the piano…I know I say this every year, but this year I am for real
-Make several trips to Boca Grande
-Do the dishes in the apartment (I swear, guys, I really will ;)
-Get all As
-Learn how to cook something…anything will do at this point
I know I have more, but that is a pretty good list for right now.
So, thank you 2009, it was a beautiful year. And 2010, here we come. I am ready for a wild ride.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Faithful Friends Who Are Dear To Us...
I am feeling very content right now. Things are just really good. This past weekend I spent two wonderful days with my best friends from school in Chicago. All of us have been friends since we were freshmen. As I spent the weekend with them, I looked around at each of them and noticed just how different all of our lives were from when we first became friends. I can promise you that if you asked any of us if we thought we would be where we are today we would say, “no way.” Each of us have changed so much, and the dreams we once had then have altered. We have all been through different hardships, struggles, relationships, and even tragedies. The path we all laid out for ourselves two and a half years ago was not exactly the path God took us on. I would never have planned or asked for what the past year brought. I do know, however, that God could not have placed better people in my path. These girls (and so many other friends) have been with me, and all of us, through our most difficult times with such love and strength. The kind of love that you know only can come through Christ. I cannot even describe how blessed I feel (especially this Christmas season) for having them. True, faithful friends.
Then Monday morning I got a text from Chelsey saying that she prayed for me that morning. It was funny because her and I both had stuff going on that morning that we were anxious about, and I too, while getting ready that morning, prayed for her. It is in those kind of moments where you receive those messages from a friend who has not forgotten about you, that you remember the joy and meaning of Christmas.
Through the busyness and laughter and preparing for Christmas this week, it brought back a lot of great memories. Why is it that around Christmastime we always reminisce so much? Anyway, I started thinking about how I missed out on my dad’s side’s family Christmas because of Chicago this year. I began remembering all those years we would pack up and head down to Indiana where buckeyes and homemade pies would be waiting for us. Through these memories I began to miss my grandpa. Not that I was ever super close to him or anything, but I longed to be maybe ten again when all of us cousins would run around my grandparents house drinking Dr. Pepper and eating my grandma’s homemade Chex Mix and watching Home Alone. Of course my grandpa was there then. During that same moment when I was thinking about that, I was helping my aunt get ready to have the church youth group over for their Christmas party. Out of no where, I began to feel this bittersweet feeling. It was not very long ago when I would be attending one of those parties. Of course, Brad would have been there too. It’s not that I am not totally happy where I am now, because I am, but I began to remember all of those parties, and Brad, and wonder why again he is not here. I am no longer grieving like I was last year, because I have accepted the fact, and the tears that I cried Sunday night were not the same painful ones I cried last year. This time, they were those bittersweet tears of remembering something special. If he were here now I would probably call him up and remember with him how during our senior Christmas party I taught him how to cheat in Apples to Apples and tell him how the other day I once again, got my car stuck in the snow in our driveway. He would laugh for sure. As I continued to help my aunt set up, I walked to the barn to get some chairs. Right next to the barn is this huge dog kennel where my aunt’s first dog, Blue, used to spend his days. Blue was so special to our family, and I grew up with him always being there for me. I know this could sound silly because I suppose he is just a dog, but he was truly a part of our family. I looked at that kennel and remembered Blue and remembered how when he died over Christmas break two years ago Brad was the first person I told. There was nothing Brad could really do to make the sting of losing a family dog go away, but I will never forget that he was simply there to talk to, just like all of my friends have been there for me this year. Neither Blue nor Brad are here now, but I will never forget how in one point in time, they were here. Here is one of my favorite quotes from the book Traveling Mercies that I read last year. The quote is so true:
“I believe that when all is said and done, all you can do is show up for someone in crisis, which seems so inadequate. But then when you do, it can radically change everything. Your ‘there-ness’ can be life giving; because often everyone else is in hiding.”
As the beauty of Christmas continues to unfold within the next couple of days, I hope you take time to remember all of those people who have been there for you through the good times and the bad, and to be there for someone yourself. That is what makes Christmas so special.
Merry Christmas =]
Then Monday morning I got a text from Chelsey saying that she prayed for me that morning. It was funny because her and I both had stuff going on that morning that we were anxious about, and I too, while getting ready that morning, prayed for her. It is in those kind of moments where you receive those messages from a friend who has not forgotten about you, that you remember the joy and meaning of Christmas.
Through the busyness and laughter and preparing for Christmas this week, it brought back a lot of great memories. Why is it that around Christmastime we always reminisce so much? Anyway, I started thinking about how I missed out on my dad’s side’s family Christmas because of Chicago this year. I began remembering all those years we would pack up and head down to Indiana where buckeyes and homemade pies would be waiting for us. Through these memories I began to miss my grandpa. Not that I was ever super close to him or anything, but I longed to be maybe ten again when all of us cousins would run around my grandparents house drinking Dr. Pepper and eating my grandma’s homemade Chex Mix and watching Home Alone. Of course my grandpa was there then. During that same moment when I was thinking about that, I was helping my aunt get ready to have the church youth group over for their Christmas party. Out of no where, I began to feel this bittersweet feeling. It was not very long ago when I would be attending one of those parties. Of course, Brad would have been there too. It’s not that I am not totally happy where I am now, because I am, but I began to remember all of those parties, and Brad, and wonder why again he is not here. I am no longer grieving like I was last year, because I have accepted the fact, and the tears that I cried Sunday night were not the same painful ones I cried last year. This time, they were those bittersweet tears of remembering something special. If he were here now I would probably call him up and remember with him how during our senior Christmas party I taught him how to cheat in Apples to Apples and tell him how the other day I once again, got my car stuck in the snow in our driveway. He would laugh for sure. As I continued to help my aunt set up, I walked to the barn to get some chairs. Right next to the barn is this huge dog kennel where my aunt’s first dog, Blue, used to spend his days. Blue was so special to our family, and I grew up with him always being there for me. I know this could sound silly because I suppose he is just a dog, but he was truly a part of our family. I looked at that kennel and remembered Blue and remembered how when he died over Christmas break two years ago Brad was the first person I told. There was nothing Brad could really do to make the sting of losing a family dog go away, but I will never forget that he was simply there to talk to, just like all of my friends have been there for me this year. Neither Blue nor Brad are here now, but I will never forget how in one point in time, they were here. Here is one of my favorite quotes from the book Traveling Mercies that I read last year. The quote is so true:
“I believe that when all is said and done, all you can do is show up for someone in crisis, which seems so inadequate. But then when you do, it can radically change everything. Your ‘there-ness’ can be life giving; because often everyone else is in hiding.”
As the beauty of Christmas continues to unfold within the next couple of days, I hope you take time to remember all of those people who have been there for you through the good times and the bad, and to be there for someone yourself. That is what makes Christmas so special.
Merry Christmas =]
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Here We Go!
Hello! Here’s the deal. I have been doing a personal blog now for over a year now, and after several people encouraged me to make it public, here I go. I am not exactly one to do a lot of sharing on personal topics, but I am going to try and stretch myself here =] I will post the last two posts I wrote on here…so enjoy hah.
I also realized that I have been very hypocritical lately regarding the topic of letting others read my writing. I love to write. I really do. It is one of my greatest passions. I don’t really let others read my writing too much; there is something daunting about letting someone have a window into your soul, but as some of you know, one of my personal goals as of late is to be more vulnerable and let more people in. In my fourth grade classroom, I always have the students write at least 8 sentences after my language arts lessons. The last topic I had them write about was their Christmas wish. I told them they had to use at least 5 ‘colorful’ adjectives, 5 ‘powerful’ verbs, and 5 specific nouns to make their writing more interesting for the reader. As I walked around the room helping, several students ran up to me over and over again to show me their ‘colorful’ adjective and have me read their writing. There is one adorable little boy in my class with red hair and lots of freckles with a sweet, shy personality. I noticed that he never came up to show me. I also noticed that he kept covering up his writing with his hand every time he looked up. I walked behind him to see if I could try to read at least of piece of what he was writing. I only saw a sentence but what I read was beautiful. I was so impressed. I sat down next to him and asked if I could read what he was writing. He shyly and nervously shook his head no. The little girl sitting next to him said, “Jacob never lets anyone read his writing.” I did not want to push him, because I could sympathize with him. I told him that I am sure what he wrote is wonderful and that I would love to read it when he was ready to show me. He said okay, but him and I both knew that it would take an act of God for him to share with anyone what was on that paper. As my lessons continued each week, I always went up to Jacob to ask if I could read what he had written. He always politely said “I don’t think right now.” I was slightly disappointed, but I sat down again with him and talked to him about it. I told him that I thought he was a great writer and he should not be nervous to share with me. I told him that the stories he had to tell and the ones that were important enough to get written down are too beautiful to keep to himself, and that if he wanted someone to read them, I would love to. He did not let me that day, but yesterday, my last day in this classroom, Jacob nervously came up to me with his writer’s notebook and simply handed it to me. He let me read one of his journal entries. Needless to say, I was proud of that kid, and honored that he finally let me read what he had to say. His writing was great. Like anyone’s, it was not perfect. But his story was beautiful and let me see his personality.
So, like I told Jacob; I know it is scary to let people in and see what you are feeling, but sometimes it is through those stories that you write where you can touch other people and let others in. I finally realized yesterday after that precious little boy showed me his story that it was probably time for me to start listening to my own advice.
I also realized that I have been very hypocritical lately regarding the topic of letting others read my writing. I love to write. I really do. It is one of my greatest passions. I don’t really let others read my writing too much; there is something daunting about letting someone have a window into your soul, but as some of you know, one of my personal goals as of late is to be more vulnerable and let more people in. In my fourth grade classroom, I always have the students write at least 8 sentences after my language arts lessons. The last topic I had them write about was their Christmas wish. I told them they had to use at least 5 ‘colorful’ adjectives, 5 ‘powerful’ verbs, and 5 specific nouns to make their writing more interesting for the reader. As I walked around the room helping, several students ran up to me over and over again to show me their ‘colorful’ adjective and have me read their writing. There is one adorable little boy in my class with red hair and lots of freckles with a sweet, shy personality. I noticed that he never came up to show me. I also noticed that he kept covering up his writing with his hand every time he looked up. I walked behind him to see if I could try to read at least of piece of what he was writing. I only saw a sentence but what I read was beautiful. I was so impressed. I sat down next to him and asked if I could read what he was writing. He shyly and nervously shook his head no. The little girl sitting next to him said, “Jacob never lets anyone read his writing.” I did not want to push him, because I could sympathize with him. I told him that I am sure what he wrote is wonderful and that I would love to read it when he was ready to show me. He said okay, but him and I both knew that it would take an act of God for him to share with anyone what was on that paper. As my lessons continued each week, I always went up to Jacob to ask if I could read what he had written. He always politely said “I don’t think right now.” I was slightly disappointed, but I sat down again with him and talked to him about it. I told him that I thought he was a great writer and he should not be nervous to share with me. I told him that the stories he had to tell and the ones that were important enough to get written down are too beautiful to keep to himself, and that if he wanted someone to read them, I would love to. He did not let me that day, but yesterday, my last day in this classroom, Jacob nervously came up to me with his writer’s notebook and simply handed it to me. He let me read one of his journal entries. Needless to say, I was proud of that kid, and honored that he finally let me read what he had to say. His writing was great. Like anyone’s, it was not perfect. But his story was beautiful and let me see his personality.
So, like I told Jacob; I know it is scary to let people in and see what you are feeling, but sometimes it is through those stories that you write where you can touch other people and let others in. I finally realized yesterday after that precious little boy showed me his story that it was probably time for me to start listening to my own advice.
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