more than a day for eggs

I see Your face in every sunrise

The colors of the morning are inside Your eyes

The world awakens in the light of the day
I look up to the sky and say
You're beautiful

I see Your power in the moonlit night
Where planets are in motion and galaxies are bright
We are amazed in the light of the stars
It's all proclaiming who You are
You're beautiful, You're beautiful

I see You there hanging on a tree
You bled and then You died and then You rose again for me
Now You are sitting on Your heavenly throne
Soon we will be coming home
You're beautiful, You're beautiful

When we arrive at eternity's shore
Where death is just a memory and tears are no more
We'll enter in as the wedding bells ring
Your bride will come together and we'll sing
You're beautiful

I'm in love.

the cello

mountains

the smell of freshly baked bread

beauty in unexpected places

j.m. barrie

so much color

going on an adventure all alone

secret kisses

the mud that squishes between your toes on spring days, the steam that rises from a cup of tea, falling asleep to the sound of someone else's breathing, hushed lonely walks through the woods, loveliness that can't be tamed, someone's fingers combing through your hair, silence so soft it deafens, night breezes.

the greatest of these

This weekend I had the amazing opportunity to go back to a youth retreat that I first started going to in 2004. Long story short: I never thought I'd be able to return due to complicated small print, but God (through the help of some great friends) brought me back, and let me say it was AWESOME. I went as a leader, but learned so much from the kids I went to help "mentor". The speaker spoke a lot about love, which, for obvious reasons, is one of my favorite topics. :) I've always been sort of prideful about the fact that I love people easily. It may not always be for the right reasons, but I usually find it pretty easy to love on people. Okay, love. This is MY thing. I've got this. I was thinking it'd be a pretty chill weekend (insert loud wrong-answer buzz here). I was feeling pretty good about myself until the speaker asked how often we've shared our story with others. 

"How, then, can they call on the one they have not believed in? And how can they believe in the one of whom they have not heard? And how can they hear without someone preaching to them?" 

-Romans 10:14

I'm reminded of an illustration my pastor once gave. You're walking down the street when you hear screams coming from inside a burning building. What's your first thought? Is it "oh gosh, I really don't think I should go help those people... I mean, they might not really need help, they might be okay on their own.. besides, if I go in an help them, that's really pushy and in-your-face, and I might offend them... and I'm not even a trained firefighter. Maybe if I just walk on, someone more equipped to do this will help out..." The people in the burning house are the people we pass everyday, people who are silently screaming out for love, answers, someone to show them the way. How can I really say I love people when I'm leaving them to their own private hell?
Ouch.
If my love for people and my love for Jesus are as great as they are, I should be screaming it from the top of my lungs to EVERYONE. Okay, screaming it might not be the best idea.... but desperation is what I'm getting at here. Desperation to share this wonderful love with anyone who might cross my path.
Too often we're consumed with debilitating fear that people will think we're crazy freaks or, even worse, get offended. Of course, we don't worry about people getting offended at us when you blast our horn at that jerk that just cut you off, or when you make fun of someone behind their back, because those things have become acceptable in our perverted culture, yet sharing God's love with someone is taboo.
I might be ranting and raving a little here, but I was really convicted. I'm a hypocrite if my "love" for people doesn't extend deeper than a superficial smile, hello, or a hug.
When it really comes down to it, I've been put on this earth for two reasons: to glorify my God, and to love fiercely. And I can't think of a better way to live my days.

"By this all men will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another." 

-John 13:35

photoshoot with Natasha

I PROMISE a real entry sometime in the next week or so. I have one in the works, but school is eating me alive right now, and I want to put effort into it.
In the meantime... my lovely friend Natasha is taking some photography classes, and is desperate for subjects. Being the camerawhore that I am, I gladly volunteered. I feel a little narcissistic posting pictures of myself on my blog, but at least they're not myspace-esque self portraits, right? She just did such a great job (*cough* I can't think of anything else to post on short notice *cough*).

My lovely photographer :]

places I want to go: Arizona

The dichotomy here is nauseating.






what matters?

ramblings.

I hate how the simple yet most meaningful phrases of our language have become just "things we say." Things like asking someone how they're doing. Or even something as simple as a thanks. A please, a hello, an apology. Sometimes I wonder if when someone asks me how I'm doing, do they really want to know how I'm doing? And how many times when I ask someone how they are, honestly wanting to know, do they tell me they're fine, things are good, but really there's so much more they aren't saying?
One of the few things I remember from my intro sociology class last year is how we use cues and "scripts" to communicate. The gist of the lesson was that our conversations nearly always fall into a predictable pattern that we have become so used to that it is like a film script. When the conversation leaves the path that we are familiar with, we awkwardly try to bring it back to the designated form that we're used to. Supposedly we automatically use these scripts for all kinds of communication, whether it's a conversation with a stranger, an argument, a job interview where we have to be reserved and respectful, even conversations with the people we love the most, where you would think we would be more open and unpredictable.
I wonder, is this something our culture has invented? The only other possibility would be that it is an instinctual urge, and since when is man reserved, predictable and desirious to restrict everything into his comfort zone by nature? I hate the idea that culture imposes rules and restrictions on us, yet it does every day. As children we have to be quiet. As teenagers with boyfriends/girlfriends we have guidelines as to what is and isn't inappropriate to do in public. As adults we are fenced in by overwhelming rules that have become second nature to us.
Who decides these things? I don't mean to be anarchical, but the more I see of society, the more discontent I am with it.

I don't want to live a scripted life.