I was inspired. I wrote a poem for the tragic events that have come about. Since Monday, I haven't really been able to put into words how I really feel about everything. Most of you know I am a creative writer. Poems are one of my specialty. But I actually could not write until tonight. This usually happens when something happens in my family (which it did) or something happened in America (which it did.) Tonight, I present this poem for all to read. It is called The Sorrow We Feel.
I see my mother crying still
Over what she saw on the news
My Empathy kicks in and I truly feel
Her pain when we watched the story grew
Sadness and sorrow are an understatement
To how I really feel inside
I try to understand where the story went
And all I want to do is run and hide
My head fills with fears and worry
Is my school really safe?
Or is it prepared poorly
What of this can I make?
I watched in sadness as the news continues
Everyone crying and sad
I look up at the sky and call on my Muse
To ask Him to return the world from bad
Situations like this arise with warning
People panicking and I just wonder
Would we be okay in the morning?
Or suffer yet another blunder.
My mind runs in a complete circle
Never wanting to stop
It runs around like a fierce bull
Not even stopping at the top.
"Why is this happened? Why me? Why me?"
We always ask this question
But most people just don't see
God is sending us a message
We can't stop the pain
The Sorrow We feel is very real
We look at this all in vein
But we will eventually heal
Keep your Faith
Never give up
You know you're safe
If you never stop
And those who choose to blame God
Think about what you're saying
You put yourself in a fog
Which will lift if we all keep praying
I know the pain those parents feels
Crying for thier babies who unfortunately did die
One day, the pain will heal
Until then, may your crying eyes dry.
God bless you all. My heart goes out to the parents who lost their children. I pray you find peace and healing.
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Saturday, April 14, 2007
The Delimma of the Lumina
Hey, that some what rhymed. I'm so talented.
Okay, Friday the 13th came to me TODAY! So, y'all know my car is POSSESSED, right? Well, today we were gonna take it up to Walmart (my Grandfather's idea) to get a new battery for it. My dad thought it was the battery. We went outside Thursday afternoon when he got home and looked at it. It cranked up fine and he really didn't see anything wrong with it. So, his assumption was the battery was about to go dead. Now, the car cranked in the presence of my mother and father now. I'm thinking that the car just doesn't like me. But the story goes further. But that's not where the story starts. The story starts yesterday. Here's how it went down.
After my car trouble this past Thursday, my dad informed me we would get it fixed Saturday. Since I don't have class until Monday, that seemed like the perfect plan. He instructed me to clean out my car for the day when we go get it fixed because he'd be driving it. So, Friday the 13th and I gotta clean out my car. Before I started that, I got a serious craving for a coke. So, I got in the car, literally prayed so it would crank, and drove it to the store. I left it running as I went inside Bridges to get a coke. Once I got my coke, I drove it home.
I left it alone for a couple of hours and went inside to do other things. I was keeping tabs on the weather channel also because, as Barbie predicted, we were suppose to get some pretty hefty stuff for Saturday and Friday night. So, at around 2 or so that afternoon, I decide I'll clean out my car. My thought was to pull it into the garage since both my parents were at work. So, here I go to my car to crank it. I sat down with the door open and stuck the key in. The dings were perfect. They weren't deformed so, I thought, "Yeah, the car's gonna crank." Wrong. I turn the key, nothing happened. Hmm, okay, let's try this again. I turned the key again. Still, nothing. Alright, third times a charm, right? WRONG. Turned it AGAIN, wouldn't even turn over. Well, great. So, I pulled the garbage can to my car and cleaned out my car from where it sat in the hot sun of my drive way. But I did get it done.
So, this morning, I woke up to the sound of rain. We had like two claps of thunder. That's it though. It rained for like an hour. So, I got up and got ready for my drum lesson that morning and my dad and I drove out to Lakeland Music and met up with Paul, my drum teacher. I did my lesson and then we drove to Pit Stop in Florence to get my dad's oil changed. Turns out he needs new tires (he drives more miles in a week then I do in three months) because he had worn his down so much they were smooth. Which is bad. But he decided he'd wait and take it to Davis Tire and Auto when he got a good expense check. Well, turns out he also needed his transmission fluid changed. He had never gotten it changed. He has over 150,000 miles on it. (It's not an old car either. It's a 2001 model. He just travels a lot. He's beaten the mileage on my car and it's ten years old. It's a 97 model.) So, they changed that. It took about an hour or so. Now, I left my house at 9:45, had a drum lesson at 10:30 (which was more like 10:45 because Paul was late gettin there), then came to Pit Stop for my dad's stuff. By the time we got home to pick up my car to take it up to Walmart, it was about 1. So, we get my car, it cranks, thank God, and we drive it up to Walmart. The lady comes out and meets us and my dad told her to hook up the diagnostic machine thingy to my car. As we thought, the battery was on its way to being dead. Wasn't quite there but gettin there. So, my dad said, go ahead and change the battery.
Now, we think this is a fifteen minute job because my dad can do it in fifteen minutes. Wrong. We go into Walmart and look around for a little while. We come back to the auto area with a few items. This is about an hour later (around 2:30). I see my car just inside the auto area with the hood popped. It looked like they were almost done. Again, wrong. About 3 or so, my dad walked out to see what was the hold up. He came back in about five minutes later looking mad. I asked him what was going on and he informed me that they hadn't even taken my old battery out. My exact response was "What?!"
So, to make an already long story short, we didn't get out of there until like 3:45. We dropped off the car at 1:45. It took those dumb people two hours to fix a very simple problem. But it is fixed and driveable. Strange. But I'm home. FINALLY.
Okay, Friday the 13th came to me TODAY! So, y'all know my car is POSSESSED, right? Well, today we were gonna take it up to Walmart (my Grandfather's idea) to get a new battery for it. My dad thought it was the battery. We went outside Thursday afternoon when he got home and looked at it. It cranked up fine and he really didn't see anything wrong with it. So, his assumption was the battery was about to go dead. Now, the car cranked in the presence of my mother and father now. I'm thinking that the car just doesn't like me. But the story goes further. But that's not where the story starts. The story starts yesterday. Here's how it went down.
After my car trouble this past Thursday, my dad informed me we would get it fixed Saturday. Since I don't have class until Monday, that seemed like the perfect plan. He instructed me to clean out my car for the day when we go get it fixed because he'd be driving it. So, Friday the 13th and I gotta clean out my car. Before I started that, I got a serious craving for a coke. So, I got in the car, literally prayed so it would crank, and drove it to the store. I left it running as I went inside Bridges to get a coke. Once I got my coke, I drove it home.
I left it alone for a couple of hours and went inside to do other things. I was keeping tabs on the weather channel also because, as Barbie predicted, we were suppose to get some pretty hefty stuff for Saturday and Friday night. So, at around 2 or so that afternoon, I decide I'll clean out my car. My thought was to pull it into the garage since both my parents were at work. So, here I go to my car to crank it. I sat down with the door open and stuck the key in. The dings were perfect. They weren't deformed so, I thought, "Yeah, the car's gonna crank." Wrong. I turn the key, nothing happened. Hmm, okay, let's try this again. I turned the key again. Still, nothing. Alright, third times a charm, right? WRONG. Turned it AGAIN, wouldn't even turn over. Well, great. So, I pulled the garbage can to my car and cleaned out my car from where it sat in the hot sun of my drive way. But I did get it done.
So, this morning, I woke up to the sound of rain. We had like two claps of thunder. That's it though. It rained for like an hour. So, I got up and got ready for my drum lesson that morning and my dad and I drove out to Lakeland Music and met up with Paul, my drum teacher. I did my lesson and then we drove to Pit Stop in Florence to get my dad's oil changed. Turns out he needs new tires (he drives more miles in a week then I do in three months) because he had worn his down so much they were smooth. Which is bad. But he decided he'd wait and take it to Davis Tire and Auto when he got a good expense check. Well, turns out he also needed his transmission fluid changed. He had never gotten it changed. He has over 150,000 miles on it. (It's not an old car either. It's a 2001 model. He just travels a lot. He's beaten the mileage on my car and it's ten years old. It's a 97 model.) So, they changed that. It took about an hour or so. Now, I left my house at 9:45, had a drum lesson at 10:30 (which was more like 10:45 because Paul was late gettin there), then came to Pit Stop for my dad's stuff. By the time we got home to pick up my car to take it up to Walmart, it was about 1. So, we get my car, it cranks, thank God, and we drive it up to Walmart. The lady comes out and meets us and my dad told her to hook up the diagnostic machine thingy to my car. As we thought, the battery was on its way to being dead. Wasn't quite there but gettin there. So, my dad said, go ahead and change the battery.
Now, we think this is a fifteen minute job because my dad can do it in fifteen minutes. Wrong. We go into Walmart and look around for a little while. We come back to the auto area with a few items. This is about an hour later (around 2:30). I see my car just inside the auto area with the hood popped. It looked like they were almost done. Again, wrong. About 3 or so, my dad walked out to see what was the hold up. He came back in about five minutes later looking mad. I asked him what was going on and he informed me that they hadn't even taken my old battery out. My exact response was "What?!"
So, to make an already long story short, we didn't get out of there until like 3:45. We dropped off the car at 1:45. It took those dumb people two hours to fix a very simple problem. But it is fixed and driveable. Strange. But I'm home. FINALLY.
Thursday, April 12, 2007
The Lumina is POSSESSED!
No, it's not a code phrase. My car, a 97 Chevy Lumina, is possessed. Let me explain. This is slightly amusing and at the same time annoying. Here's what happened. Okay, check this out. So, my car is a piece of crap, right? Oh, you don't know that? Well, it is. It's not all bad but she's old. I only use the car when I'm driving to and from school, church, or work. So, today was like any other day. I left my house about 10 or so this morning to go to class. (I don't go to creative writing. It's magazine crunch time and we don't have class. So, virtually, I only have one class on Tuesday's and Thursday's.) I stopped at the gas station but kept my car running because I would only be in there for a second to get something to drink. Once I got my caffeine fix, I drove the rest of the way to school.
I went to American Lit and once that class was over, I strolled out with William, my good friend from my American Lit class, to drive home. He would normally walk me out to my car then go to his other class that he had at that time. He walked me out as he always did but didn't walk me all the way to my car. We got out of Lit late so, he didn't have much time. He watched me get to my car then turned and walked back inside. So, I get in and set my books in the front seat and stick the key in. The car usually won't do its little ding sound until the car cranks. Or if the lights are on and the door is open. But my car door was not open and my lights weren't on so, the dings didn't come on. So, I stuck the key in and turned it to crank it. It first sounded like it started to crank then completely stopped. And when I turned the key back to the off position, the dings that were normally there were very deformed and just sounded horrible which is what it sounded like when my battery went dead three years ago in the Walmart parking lot on a rainy Saturday afternoon. Luckily, I had a shift at McAlister's that night and I just ran from the Walmart parking lot to work. I called my dad for that one.
So, sighing heavily, I knew it had to be my battery. Logically, that had to be it, right? So, here I go. I call my dad. "Where are you?" I asked him. He informed me, "I'm in between Starkville and Louisville. I'm about two hours away, why?" Sighing, I said, "My car died." The rest of the conversation consisted of where are you, what does the car sound like, is it the battery, yada yada yada. So, he tells me to call my grandfather who lives right down the road from me. I called him and he informed me that he had a doctor's appointment at 1 in Madison. There was no way. So, I called my mother. It took me a couple of tries because she was in meetings but I finally got her. This was our conversation starting with my mother.
"Hey, did you try to call me?"
"Yep. About three times."
"Sorry, I was in a meeting Sweetie. What's up?"
"My car died."
"Your car died?"
"Yep."
"Well, where are you?"
"I'm at school. Are you out of meetings?"
"Yeah, I'm on my way."
About fifteen minutes later, she pulled up in the Hinds parking lot. (She works at St. Dominic. She's about ten minutes away from me) She pulled up beside my car and she said, "Throw me the keys I wanna see what it sounds like." I shrugged and said, "Okay. It wouldn't turn over for me." I tossed her the keys and she sat in my driver seat and put the key in the hole. The dings were perfect because the door was open. She turned the key to AUX and the dings were normal as well. (It will ding on auxiliary and when the car turns on.) She turned the key and it cranked fine. My mouth literally dropped open and I said, "Now, how'd you do that." She simply smiled and said, "I got the touch." So, I called my dad and told him, "Mom's magic fingers made the car crank. I'm gonna drive it home." With that, I drove home with Mom very close behind me. She informed me to stick with the right lane and if I sense the car about to die, pull over and we'll get a tow for it. But I managed to make it from Pearl to Florence. My mother thought it was the starter.
When my mom went back to work, I got a call from my dad. He started going into a spill about what the battery does and how it works and what not. He told me that the battery only sends the power to crank the car but the alternator does the work passed that. His theory is that when I started to crank the car and it didn't turn, the alternator already was charging the battery enough to get it to crank. So, in the thirty minutes that I left it alone, the alternator had charged the battery enough to crank the car. The reason I'm almost sure it's the battery is because my radio was off (and I had it on when I got to school) and my clock had jumped ahead an hour. (My clock in my car does not set itself when daylight savings time comes around. But it has changed the time around when the battery starts to go dead.) So, my dad says that the alternator charged it enough to crank it and that's how I got it home. When I got it home, my mother told me to crank it again. I did and it cranked fine. So, my dad's theory is that the connectors are corroded and needs cleaning or the battery is dead. Now, my car is ten years old. There's gonna be rust, dust, and corroded dodads under the hood. And it is about that time for the battery to die. The last time it was changed I was a Junior in High school. (3 years ago). It's about that time and my dad just got home so, we're going outside now to look at the options. Peace.
I went to American Lit and once that class was over, I strolled out with William, my good friend from my American Lit class, to drive home. He would normally walk me out to my car then go to his other class that he had at that time. He walked me out as he always did but didn't walk me all the way to my car. We got out of Lit late so, he didn't have much time. He watched me get to my car then turned and walked back inside. So, I get in and set my books in the front seat and stick the key in. The car usually won't do its little ding sound until the car cranks. Or if the lights are on and the door is open. But my car door was not open and my lights weren't on so, the dings didn't come on. So, I stuck the key in and turned it to crank it. It first sounded like it started to crank then completely stopped. And when I turned the key back to the off position, the dings that were normally there were very deformed and just sounded horrible which is what it sounded like when my battery went dead three years ago in the Walmart parking lot on a rainy Saturday afternoon. Luckily, I had a shift at McAlister's that night and I just ran from the Walmart parking lot to work. I called my dad for that one.
So, sighing heavily, I knew it had to be my battery. Logically, that had to be it, right? So, here I go. I call my dad. "Where are you?" I asked him. He informed me, "I'm in between Starkville and Louisville. I'm about two hours away, why?" Sighing, I said, "My car died." The rest of the conversation consisted of where are you, what does the car sound like, is it the battery, yada yada yada. So, he tells me to call my grandfather who lives right down the road from me. I called him and he informed me that he had a doctor's appointment at 1 in Madison. There was no way. So, I called my mother. It took me a couple of tries because she was in meetings but I finally got her. This was our conversation starting with my mother.
"Hey, did you try to call me?"
"Yep. About three times."
"Sorry, I was in a meeting Sweetie. What's up?"
"My car died."
"Your car died?"
"Yep."
"Well, where are you?"
"I'm at school. Are you out of meetings?"
"Yeah, I'm on my way."
About fifteen minutes later, she pulled up in the Hinds parking lot. (She works at St. Dominic. She's about ten minutes away from me) She pulled up beside my car and she said, "Throw me the keys I wanna see what it sounds like." I shrugged and said, "Okay. It wouldn't turn over for me." I tossed her the keys and she sat in my driver seat and put the key in the hole. The dings were perfect because the door was open. She turned the key to AUX and the dings were normal as well. (It will ding on auxiliary and when the car turns on.) She turned the key and it cranked fine. My mouth literally dropped open and I said, "Now, how'd you do that." She simply smiled and said, "I got the touch." So, I called my dad and told him, "Mom's magic fingers made the car crank. I'm gonna drive it home." With that, I drove home with Mom very close behind me. She informed me to stick with the right lane and if I sense the car about to die, pull over and we'll get a tow for it. But I managed to make it from Pearl to Florence. My mother thought it was the starter.
When my mom went back to work, I got a call from my dad. He started going into a spill about what the battery does and how it works and what not. He told me that the battery only sends the power to crank the car but the alternator does the work passed that. His theory is that when I started to crank the car and it didn't turn, the alternator already was charging the battery enough to get it to crank. So, in the thirty minutes that I left it alone, the alternator had charged the battery enough to crank the car. The reason I'm almost sure it's the battery is because my radio was off (and I had it on when I got to school) and my clock had jumped ahead an hour. (My clock in my car does not set itself when daylight savings time comes around. But it has changed the time around when the battery starts to go dead.) So, my dad says that the alternator charged it enough to crank it and that's how I got it home. When I got it home, my mother told me to crank it again. I did and it cranked fine. So, my dad's theory is that the connectors are corroded and needs cleaning or the battery is dead. Now, my car is ten years old. There's gonna be rust, dust, and corroded dodads under the hood. And it is about that time for the battery to die. The last time it was changed I was a Junior in High school. (3 years ago). It's about that time and my dad just got home so, we're going outside now to look at the options. Peace.
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Here comes a real Journal entry.
Today has been less than good, I'll be honest. It seems like every where I turned, another bad thing happened to me. Has anyone ever had one of them days? Well, today was one. Satan was really after me today. I found myself sitting in front of my left closet crying. I looked up at my ceiling and said, "Why are You doing this to me??" I couldn't believe those words came out of my mouth. I actually blamed God for my bad misfortunes of the day. That was wrong of me. Satan was sitting on my shoulder saying, "Blame God. Blame Him. He did this to you." Wrong. Satan did that to me. But let me start at the beginning.
I had (and I emphasize the word "had") a friend named Liz. We aren't on talking terms at this point and time. In high school, we were good friends. But Liz had a problem with me. I was very dramatic. I got upset at things so easily and I actually woke up each day and just decided I was having a bad thing. You'd think I was bipolar if you were around me at home and then at school. It was like night and day. I was happy and perky at home but low and depressed at school. And it wasn't my school. It was just my personality. There was nothing wrong on the particular days. I just was sad and depressed. Well, Liz was one of my friends that dealt with my depressing nature. Her senior year came and she switched to Brandon High. (I went to Hillcrest Christian) We lost touch after that. As life went on, I started thinking about my life back in high school. I'm not saying it was a long time since I have been out of high school but it has been a couple of years. I actually look back on some of those days and say, "God, what was wrong with me?!" I wouldn't even be able to stand me. But during my senior year of high school, I started Rping on MySpace.com. In the span of the years that separated high school and now, I met a girl named "Tiffany". It's not her real name but I'll use the name Tiffany for blogging purposes. She was THE most annoying girl I think I have ever met! She was one of my Rpers. But as I got to know her, I started seeing a familiar scene. She found a reason to have a bad day. It was for the STUPIDEST reasons! And then, the light clicked on. I acted like that in high school. My exact words to myself was "Now I know why Liz hated me." Well, as soon as I realized that, I started trying to find Liz in whatever way I could. Luckily, she had a myspace. I immediately started trying to make amends with her. She wouldn't hear of it. She wouldn't even talk to me. I can't say that I blame her. I wouldn't talk to me either. I just wish I could talk to her again. I just wish she'd sit long enough to listen to me. I started a composition book full of notes about her. But I want her to read it and let me say how sorry I am to her. Okay, that was the first part of my day. Here comes the second part.
I told you I Rp on MySpace. Well, one of my really good friends (and an excellent Rper) informed all of us that she would be basically abandoning her character because the stress was too much. I was literally devasted. That was a big hit for me. But now we have the third thing.
I love my mother. She's the best woman in the world. She's a wonderful role model for my brother and I. But there are days (much like the rest of us) that she can be in a bad mood. This morning was no exception. She wasn't just in a bad mood, she was late for work. Double whammy. But here came the triple whammy. Her hair dryer quit. So, at 7:15, (I'm still asleep) she comes in my room and tries to unplug my hair dryer to use it. Of course, I heard her trying to do this and I sat up saying, "What are you doing?" She explained her story but as I'm listening to her struggle, I remember that my mother and I plugged up my hair dryer behind my dresser with the mirror on it. It's literally impossible to get out. Or so I thought. I told her that I thought Dad had one in his bathroom. So, she went trying to look for it and couldn't find it. So, again, she comes and knocks on my door to get mine. I open the door, still half asleep, and she says, "I can't find his and I'm in a hurry. Just give me yours." So, here I went trying to push my dresser out a little bit so I can get my hair dryer out for her to use. I ask her to help me but we couldn't make it budge. I began trying to reach behind the dresser trying to shimmy the plug out. In the midst of that, I say, "I'm tryin, Mama." Then, she snapped. "SHUT UP! Tell me you're tryin." Well, I didn't say another word. I sat down beside my dresser and tried, and I do mean tried, with all my might to get that plug unplugged. My arm is burning because it's sanwiched in a very small hole. I find the cord to the plug and try to pull as hard as I could. I'm almost crying because it hurt so bad. But not wanting to face my mother's wrath of her being late, in a bad mood, and already annoyed with me, I don't say a word. I just keep a pained look on my face (it was the least I could do. I wouldn't dare cry in front of her at this point. I would be afraid she would tell me to shut up again.) and pulled with all I had. Finally, I ripped it out. I look at her and say, "I got it." She snatched the hair dryer and walked out. I just had to sit there for a moment. Here it was, about 7:30, and I am already in a bad mood. I've already been yelled at my mother and I should have even been awake yet. But I was. And I wasn't a happy camper. So, I get up and sit on my bed, still trying to get my arm to stop throbbing in pain. All of the sudden, my phone makes the noise it does when I get a message. Now, on Wednesday's, I normally got a text message from Cingular telling me about some free crap they wanted to upgrade my phone with. But it was too early for that. So, what could that be? My mother. It read, "You bent the prongs on my hair dryer when you pulled it out. I couldn't bend them back. But it's okay because my hair dryer works fine now. Just use mine and I'll fix it tonight. Sorry." Now, the last "Sorry" could be anything. It could be, "I'm sorry your hair dryer is messed up." or, "I'm sorry I yelled at you." I couldn't tell which. But once I read that, I started thinking to myself. If she had waited a couple of minutes, her hair dryer would have worked fine. I wouldn't have gotten yelled at and maybe my day would have been better. I would have gotten my full 8 hours of sleep before I went to class. But I didn't. But, no, that's not where the day ends!
So, I went to class and came home. And usually when I get home, I play Guitar Hero. It's to relax. Well, when I got tired of that, I thought I'd watch some TV. Well, with the way our surround sound box works, you turn the box to DVTH Cable to make it come back. So, I did. But you also have to use the actual TV remote (and you can't turn the TV itself because it's an HDTV) to make the TV turn back to the cable HD. Well, I couldn't find the remote. So, when my dad got home, I kindly asked him to help me find it. "I'll do it when I get a chance!" Yeah, like I need more people yelling at me today. I'm already thinking of Liz, my fellow Rper that left me, and my mother yelling at me for virtually no reason. And now, I'm getting yelled at by my dad. Well, that was enough. I stormed to my room, locked my door, sat on the floor and just cried. And I found myself looking up at my ceiling saying, "Why? Why this? Why now? What did I do? I asked You for help. I asked You. Why are You doing this to me?!" I couldn't believe these words were coming out of my mouth. I was blaming the wrong person. I should have flicked that little devil off my shoulder and said, "Go back to Hell, Satan."
Even I have bad days but it's never a reason to blame God. Please remember that. Though you have bad days, don't blame God. He's there. He's watching. And He will interfere when He feels the need. He gave me those things to learn a lesson. And that is patience. And boy do I need it. And I'll leave you with this from the song, Still the Cross by FFH. "When the world falls apart, and you fear for your home, in the tower of peace, it's still the cross. So bring your sick and your poor, and your longing for more, to the place of release, it's still the cross. There is hope for the lost, it's still the cross." Take those lyrics to heart. They taught me a lesson today. Hopefully it can help someone else reading this blog.
†Peace.†
I had (and I emphasize the word "had") a friend named Liz. We aren't on talking terms at this point and time. In high school, we were good friends. But Liz had a problem with me. I was very dramatic. I got upset at things so easily and I actually woke up each day and just decided I was having a bad thing. You'd think I was bipolar if you were around me at home and then at school. It was like night and day. I was happy and perky at home but low and depressed at school. And it wasn't my school. It was just my personality. There was nothing wrong on the particular days. I just was sad and depressed. Well, Liz was one of my friends that dealt with my depressing nature. Her senior year came and she switched to Brandon High. (I went to Hillcrest Christian) We lost touch after that. As life went on, I started thinking about my life back in high school. I'm not saying it was a long time since I have been out of high school but it has been a couple of years. I actually look back on some of those days and say, "God, what was wrong with me?!" I wouldn't even be able to stand me. But during my senior year of high school, I started Rping on MySpace.com. In the span of the years that separated high school and now, I met a girl named "Tiffany". It's not her real name but I'll use the name Tiffany for blogging purposes. She was THE most annoying girl I think I have ever met! She was one of my Rpers. But as I got to know her, I started seeing a familiar scene. She found a reason to have a bad day. It was for the STUPIDEST reasons! And then, the light clicked on. I acted like that in high school. My exact words to myself was "Now I know why Liz hated me." Well, as soon as I realized that, I started trying to find Liz in whatever way I could. Luckily, she had a myspace. I immediately started trying to make amends with her. She wouldn't hear of it. She wouldn't even talk to me. I can't say that I blame her. I wouldn't talk to me either. I just wish I could talk to her again. I just wish she'd sit long enough to listen to me. I started a composition book full of notes about her. But I want her to read it and let me say how sorry I am to her. Okay, that was the first part of my day. Here comes the second part.
I told you I Rp on MySpace. Well, one of my really good friends (and an excellent Rper) informed all of us that she would be basically abandoning her character because the stress was too much. I was literally devasted. That was a big hit for me. But now we have the third thing.
I love my mother. She's the best woman in the world. She's a wonderful role model for my brother and I. But there are days (much like the rest of us) that she can be in a bad mood. This morning was no exception. She wasn't just in a bad mood, she was late for work. Double whammy. But here came the triple whammy. Her hair dryer quit. So, at 7:15, (I'm still asleep) she comes in my room and tries to unplug my hair dryer to use it. Of course, I heard her trying to do this and I sat up saying, "What are you doing?" She explained her story but as I'm listening to her struggle, I remember that my mother and I plugged up my hair dryer behind my dresser with the mirror on it. It's literally impossible to get out. Or so I thought. I told her that I thought Dad had one in his bathroom. So, she went trying to look for it and couldn't find it. So, again, she comes and knocks on my door to get mine. I open the door, still half asleep, and she says, "I can't find his and I'm in a hurry. Just give me yours." So, here I went trying to push my dresser out a little bit so I can get my hair dryer out for her to use. I ask her to help me but we couldn't make it budge. I began trying to reach behind the dresser trying to shimmy the plug out. In the midst of that, I say, "I'm tryin, Mama." Then, she snapped. "SHUT UP! Tell me you're tryin." Well, I didn't say another word. I sat down beside my dresser and tried, and I do mean tried, with all my might to get that plug unplugged. My arm is burning because it's sanwiched in a very small hole. I find the cord to the plug and try to pull as hard as I could. I'm almost crying because it hurt so bad. But not wanting to face my mother's wrath of her being late, in a bad mood, and already annoyed with me, I don't say a word. I just keep a pained look on my face (it was the least I could do. I wouldn't dare cry in front of her at this point. I would be afraid she would tell me to shut up again.) and pulled with all I had. Finally, I ripped it out. I look at her and say, "I got it." She snatched the hair dryer and walked out. I just had to sit there for a moment. Here it was, about 7:30, and I am already in a bad mood. I've already been yelled at my mother and I should have even been awake yet. But I was. And I wasn't a happy camper. So, I get up and sit on my bed, still trying to get my arm to stop throbbing in pain. All of the sudden, my phone makes the noise it does when I get a message. Now, on Wednesday's, I normally got a text message from Cingular telling me about some free crap they wanted to upgrade my phone with. But it was too early for that. So, what could that be? My mother. It read, "You bent the prongs on my hair dryer when you pulled it out. I couldn't bend them back. But it's okay because my hair dryer works fine now. Just use mine and I'll fix it tonight. Sorry." Now, the last "Sorry" could be anything. It could be, "I'm sorry your hair dryer is messed up." or, "I'm sorry I yelled at you." I couldn't tell which. But once I read that, I started thinking to myself. If she had waited a couple of minutes, her hair dryer would have worked fine. I wouldn't have gotten yelled at and maybe my day would have been better. I would have gotten my full 8 hours of sleep before I went to class. But I didn't. But, no, that's not where the day ends!
So, I went to class and came home. And usually when I get home, I play Guitar Hero. It's to relax. Well, when I got tired of that, I thought I'd watch some TV. Well, with the way our surround sound box works, you turn the box to DVTH Cable to make it come back. So, I did. But you also have to use the actual TV remote (and you can't turn the TV itself because it's an HDTV) to make the TV turn back to the cable HD. Well, I couldn't find the remote. So, when my dad got home, I kindly asked him to help me find it. "I'll do it when I get a chance!" Yeah, like I need more people yelling at me today. I'm already thinking of Liz, my fellow Rper that left me, and my mother yelling at me for virtually no reason. And now, I'm getting yelled at by my dad. Well, that was enough. I stormed to my room, locked my door, sat on the floor and just cried. And I found myself looking up at my ceiling saying, "Why? Why this? Why now? What did I do? I asked You for help. I asked You. Why are You doing this to me?!" I couldn't believe these words were coming out of my mouth. I was blaming the wrong person. I should have flicked that little devil off my shoulder and said, "Go back to Hell, Satan."
Even I have bad days but it's never a reason to blame God. Please remember that. Though you have bad days, don't blame God. He's there. He's watching. And He will interfere when He feels the need. He gave me those things to learn a lesson. And that is patience. And boy do I need it. And I'll leave you with this from the song, Still the Cross by FFH. "When the world falls apart, and you fear for your home, in the tower of peace, it's still the cross. So bring your sick and your poor, and your longing for more, to the place of release, it's still the cross. There is hope for the lost, it's still the cross." Take those lyrics to heart. They taught me a lesson today. Hopefully it can help someone else reading this blog.
†Peace.†
Friday, April 6, 2007
I cried tonight.
Hey folks. Sorry it's been so long since my last post. I've actually been sick these past couple of weeks. First with a stomach virus then a sinus infection. Haven't really felt much like typing an old blog. But I'm all good now. And boy I have something to post.
I feel God tonight. I feel His love. It came after reading a very very great email. I don't really know how to explain it. The title looked like another spam mail or a chain letter that says something rediculous like "Your true love will call you if you repost this in 2 seconds. If you don't, you'll die alone and sad." Something stupid like that. The email was,
She jumped up as soon as she saw the surgeon come out of the operating room. She said: "How is my little boy? Is he going to be all right? When can I see him?" The surgeon said, "I'm sorry. We did all we could,but your boy didn't make it."Sally said, "Why do little children get cancer?Doesn't God care any more? Where were you, God, when my son needed you?"The surgeon asked, "Would you like some time alone with your son? One of the nurses will be out in a few minutes, before he's transported to theuniversity."Sally asked the nurse to stay with her while shesaid good-bye to son. She ran her fingers lovinglythrough his thick red curly hair."Would you like a lock of his hair?" the nurse asked. Sally nodded yes. The nurse cut a lock of theboy's hair, put it in a plastic bag and handed it to Sally. The mother said, "It was Jimmy's idea to donate his body to the University for Study. He said it might help somebody else. "I said no at first, but Jimmy said, 'Mom, I won't be using it after I die. Maybe it will help some other little boy spend one more day with his Mom." She went on, "My Jimmy had a heart of gold. Always thinking of someone else. Always wanting to help others if he could."
Sally walked out of Children's mercy Hospital forthe last time, after spending most of the last six months there. She put the bag with Jimmy's belongings on the seat beside her in the car. The drive home was difficult. It was even harder to enter the empty house. She carried Jimmy's belongings, and the plastic bag with the lock of his hair to her son's room. She started placing the model cars and other personal things back in his room exactly where he had always kept them. She laid down across his bed and, hugging his pillow, cried herself to sleep. It was around midnight when Sally awoke. Laying beside her on the bed was a folded letter. The letter said:
"Dear Mom, I know you're going to miss me; but don't think that I will ever forget you, or stop loving you, just 'cause I'm not around to say I LOVE YOU. I will always love you, Mom, even more with each day. Someday we will see each other again.Until then, if you want to adopt a little boy so you won't be so lonely, that's okay with me. He can have my room and old stuff to play with. But, if you decide to get a girl instead, she probably wouldn't like the same things us boys do. You'll have to buy her dolls and stuff girls like, you know. Don't besad thinking about me. This really is a neat place. Grandma and Grandpa met me as soon as I got here and showed me around some, but it will take a long time to see everything. The angels are so cool. I love to watch them fly. And, you know what? Jesus doesn't look like any of his pictures. Yet, when I saw Him, I knew it was Him. Jesus himself took me to see GOD! And guess what, Mom? I got to sit on God's knee and talk to Him, like I was somebody important. That's when I told Him that I wanted to write you a letter, to tell you good-bye and everything. But I already knew that wasn't allowed. Well, you know what Mom? God handed me some paper and His own personal pento write you this letter. I think Gabriel is the nameof the angel who is going to drop this letter off to you. God said for me to give you the answer to one of the questions you asked Him 'Where was He when I needed him?' "God said He was in thesame place with me, as when His son Jesus was on the cross. He was right there, as He always is with all His children.
Oh, by the way, Mom, no one else can see whatI've written except you. To everyone else this is just a blank piece of paper. Isn't that cool? I have to give God His pen back now. He needs it to writesome more names in the Book of Life. Tonight I get to sit at the table with Jesus for supper. I'm sure the food will be great.
Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. I don't hurt anymore.The cancer is all gone. I'm glad because I couldn't stand that pain anymore and God couldn't stand tosee me hurt so much, either. That's when He sent The Angel of Mercy to come get me. The Angel said I was a Special Delivery! How about that?
Signed with Love from God, Jesus & Me.
I had a feeling that the email wasn't a real life situation but the message is so clear. This child who was dying from cancer at the tender age of six, still thought of other people besides himself. I learned a huge lesson out of this when I read this. I started crying like I hadn't in a very very long time. And I felt God right there. Yesterday, at around 4:30PM or so, I stood from my place on the couch and went to my bed room. I knelt down beside my bed and prayed. I will be honest, I don't pray every day. I should but I don't. I want to try and I know God will be right there encouraging me to keep on it. You see, my parents are having church issues. Not going into details but it involves them leaving the church that I grew up in in search of another church. Because of my previous engagements, I can't leave my home church. I needed God's guidance to tell me what to do. Little by little, He is showing me signs of where and how I should turn. But this email really made me think about my life and where mine and His relationship is. I pray it stays stronger. Pray for me.
I feel God tonight. I feel His love. It came after reading a very very great email. I don't really know how to explain it. The title looked like another spam mail or a chain letter that says something rediculous like "Your true love will call you if you repost this in 2 seconds. If you don't, you'll die alone and sad." Something stupid like that. The email was,
She jumped up as soon as she saw the surgeon come out of the operating room. She said: "How is my little boy? Is he going to be all right? When can I see him?" The surgeon said, "I'm sorry. We did all we could,but your boy didn't make it."Sally said, "Why do little children get cancer?Doesn't God care any more? Where were you, God, when my son needed you?"The surgeon asked, "Would you like some time alone with your son? One of the nurses will be out in a few minutes, before he's transported to theuniversity."Sally asked the nurse to stay with her while shesaid good-bye to son. She ran her fingers lovinglythrough his thick red curly hair."Would you like a lock of his hair?" the nurse asked. Sally nodded yes. The nurse cut a lock of theboy's hair, put it in a plastic bag and handed it to Sally. The mother said, "It was Jimmy's idea to donate his body to the University for Study. He said it might help somebody else. "I said no at first, but Jimmy said, 'Mom, I won't be using it after I die. Maybe it will help some other little boy spend one more day with his Mom." She went on, "My Jimmy had a heart of gold. Always thinking of someone else. Always wanting to help others if he could."
Sally walked out of Children's mercy Hospital forthe last time, after spending most of the last six months there. She put the bag with Jimmy's belongings on the seat beside her in the car. The drive home was difficult. It was even harder to enter the empty house. She carried Jimmy's belongings, and the plastic bag with the lock of his hair to her son's room. She started placing the model cars and other personal things back in his room exactly where he had always kept them. She laid down across his bed and, hugging his pillow, cried herself to sleep. It was around midnight when Sally awoke. Laying beside her on the bed was a folded letter. The letter said:
"Dear Mom, I know you're going to miss me; but don't think that I will ever forget you, or stop loving you, just 'cause I'm not around to say I LOVE YOU. I will always love you, Mom, even more with each day. Someday we will see each other again.Until then, if you want to adopt a little boy so you won't be so lonely, that's okay with me. He can have my room and old stuff to play with. But, if you decide to get a girl instead, she probably wouldn't like the same things us boys do. You'll have to buy her dolls and stuff girls like, you know. Don't besad thinking about me. This really is a neat place. Grandma and Grandpa met me as soon as I got here and showed me around some, but it will take a long time to see everything. The angels are so cool. I love to watch them fly. And, you know what? Jesus doesn't look like any of his pictures. Yet, when I saw Him, I knew it was Him. Jesus himself took me to see GOD! And guess what, Mom? I got to sit on God's knee and talk to Him, like I was somebody important. That's when I told Him that I wanted to write you a letter, to tell you good-bye and everything. But I already knew that wasn't allowed. Well, you know what Mom? God handed me some paper and His own personal pento write you this letter. I think Gabriel is the nameof the angel who is going to drop this letter off to you. God said for me to give you the answer to one of the questions you asked Him 'Where was He when I needed him?' "God said He was in thesame place with me, as when His son Jesus was on the cross. He was right there, as He always is with all His children.
Oh, by the way, Mom, no one else can see whatI've written except you. To everyone else this is just a blank piece of paper. Isn't that cool? I have to give God His pen back now. He needs it to writesome more names in the Book of Life. Tonight I get to sit at the table with Jesus for supper. I'm sure the food will be great.
Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. I don't hurt anymore.The cancer is all gone. I'm glad because I couldn't stand that pain anymore and God couldn't stand tosee me hurt so much, either. That's when He sent The Angel of Mercy to come get me. The Angel said I was a Special Delivery! How about that?
Signed with Love from God, Jesus & Me.
I had a feeling that the email wasn't a real life situation but the message is so clear. This child who was dying from cancer at the tender age of six, still thought of other people besides himself. I learned a huge lesson out of this when I read this. I started crying like I hadn't in a very very long time. And I felt God right there. Yesterday, at around 4:30PM or so, I stood from my place on the couch and went to my bed room. I knelt down beside my bed and prayed. I will be honest, I don't pray every day. I should but I don't. I want to try and I know God will be right there encouraging me to keep on it. You see, my parents are having church issues. Not going into details but it involves them leaving the church that I grew up in in search of another church. Because of my previous engagements, I can't leave my home church. I needed God's guidance to tell me what to do. Little by little, He is showing me signs of where and how I should turn. But this email really made me think about my life and where mine and His relationship is. I pray it stays stronger. Pray for me.
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