...And Beyond

With 2014 fast approaching, it's time to make new plans for the new year. Recently I've been kinda thinking that maybe it's better to start resolutions in the middle of January, like the time everyone else quits theirs. Did you know that 50% of Americans give up their goals within the first month? And 75% within three months? Those are pretty horrible and I'm hoping to be part of the few who keep with it. I mean, I like the idea of starting with the new year because it means fresh starts and fresh goals. But at the same time, if it doesn't work out, as it's bound to become bothersome at some point, my gut reaction is pretty much oh well, guess I'll try again next year. And that gets me nowhere because if I'm not attempting to try again even if only to get a day farther than the last try, I am probably going to give up in the same amount of time and then the goal is never reached. In fact, most of my reached goals like reading the Bible, were made not at the beginning of the year, but during school. I mean, why not make new month resolutions? It seems more practical. However, I'm not that practical and I love making lists, so I can't resist making one to at least think about and perhaps I won't begin it until February, who knows.

I think my first three all go together and will in turn help the rest because I should be saving more time. I would like to have better time management, work harder, and yet breath more. My thinking in this is that if I work harder to finish things in a timely manner I shouldn't waste hours on one subject, and then I should have more time to relax or pray or whatever without feeling guilty for not doing something else. With some of the extra time I really need to get into a schedule of practicing my instruments every day. The second half of characteristics I am working toward is simply being more real, more open. I don't think this will be a goal I can simply throw out at the end of 2014, but will probably struggle with all my life, not only because of experiences, but because it's a natural part of me that I'll always fight with. Something to help me with this would definitely be to pray more, and of course I'll be navigating my way through the Bible again, though I had a head start on that because I finished and started over again like in October. 

So those were all the ones relating to my character, these next one's are more like wishes, and hopes, just for my pleasure. There's a few that will need all year to achieve, and some just for over the summer. Firstly, I would love to get to a point in my Spanish learning where I can understand at least the gist of most everything and be able to speak at least a little. My first step in this would be to complete Duolingo. My two goals relating to physical training would be the one handed pull-up and the splits (for real this time). The splits have probably been on my list for the last four years and the longest I've gone is three months. They are not only cool looking to be able to do,  but being flexible prevents injuries as well. Then the one handed pull-up is somewhat of a continuation from last year, again simply because I think it's cool, not that I use those muscles for anything else at all. I will continue my regular routine this month just so I can do thirteen regular pull-ups and then there is this trick with a towel that I will change the level on every month until I can do one. The only other one on my list that will take the entire year is my reading challenge on Goodreads. I barely got my forty books last year and this time I upped it by five so we'll see how that goes.

Then over the summer, I'll probably pick up some new lists here and there of things I want to do, but one of them is getting some animal volunteer work. As I've mentioned before I would like to train dolphins at some point as a side job and one of the requirements I can easily start on now is simply working with animals. I am hoping to do it with the cat clinic by me. This next one isn't necessarily a goal because it's not something I'm just dying to get off my list, but perhaps I can take some steps that will someday allow me to travel someday. I would love to go to Germany to become fluent, also to Costa Rica with my sister. Then of course something I've been drooling over for years....to be able to attend Gail Carson Levine's writing workshop. Anyone near Brewster out there?

That's basically my plans for this year. Not that the Lord won't have his own plans swirling around, but I find it nice to be prepared to grow in certain areas and then the years don't feel like such a waste.

Looking Back...

So at this time of the year, I like to think about what I've accomplished and try to think about how I can improve. Gah, no I don't. That's a school assignment, but it makes for a good post, and since it's on my mind anyway, remember I write these for myself to sort out my thoughts. I'd planned about three different things to post on, but if you've checked my blog in the last three weeks, I'm behind and most everything has already occurred. I'm going to pretend like it hasn't however, and split this up into three smaller parts so the other two aren't blank. This will be the one about 2013.

Looking behind me, for any given year, I tend to be disappointed by what I should have done rather than content in what I've accomplished. It's overwhelming to think how much yet how little happened. At the moment it occurs, it feels like one of the biggest events of my life. Practicing non stop for a check up, staying up super late to do homework, not getting to go on a retreat. These all seem like pretty pivotal points in our current week, but for the most part they turn out later to seem no more than a couple stressful hours that might have been better spent cuddling with kitties or helping someone else. I don't know, that's just how it goes for me. So that's why I'm first going to focus on what I did accomplish.

I didn't exactly conscientiously decide on that many goals, but I know that two of them were finish reading though the whole Bible, and be able to do twelve pull-ups. I am very proud to say that I reached both of those, if only barely. The Bible one started back in the summer, it was the second time I got fired up about reading it consistently and I actually stuck with it. The first time was in middle school when there was a prize for whoever did the 90 day plan got a prize. That's right, the goal was to read through the entire Bible in only three months. There's nothing like a good contest to get me excited. I think I tried it three times in all. At least I didn't completely give up, yet I always lost my speed when I finished the old testament and by that time it doesn't look as worth it anymore. This was not a good goal in any case, I should not have wanted to read for personal gain but simply out of thirst for its knowledge. I don't think that I learned much at that rate. Well, not the second two tries. The first one I was doing really good, keeping a notebook and writing a page or so worth of things I learned, questions, prayers, and whatever else. That was worth it, but I tend to lose hope when I miss so much as one day and then I give up. So this summer, I've been told so often that on breaks people get spiritually lazy, but for me it was the opposite. It gave me a purpose and by creating my own schedule, I was more motivated. I made a list of how much I needed to read of certain books every day to finish by certain dates and without feeling horrible if I skipped but also not allowing myself to be extremely inconsistent, I was able to feel good about it. It was also a better aim too I think, without feeling obligated, at least not always, but truly looking forward to it every day. One last thing, I might have mentioned it a couple months ago, but I had a special spot. I really like heights, it makes me feel closer to God and I can be somewhat alone. So I read high up in a tree. I could sing if I liked or pray aloud if I liked, and no one bothered me. It was great. The last obstacle which I overcame in this was that the very last part of my plan went into the first month or so of the school year, I had foreseen this and hoped it wouldn't completely bomb my time set aside and it didn't. In fact it was quite a good time to do it because the end was in sight to keep me going no matter what. I kept time aside for it and finished right on time and it was the best feeling.

The other goal, in its own way just as ambitious, though not as useful, was the twelve pull-ups. In fact, that was just for my own sake to prove I could do it. And, I must admit, also to show off. I hadn't realized how close I was until we got into November. Most of the time I know deep down that things will get done, but not in a timely manner. I had no idea that I would truly be able to do it without that much work. Here's how it happened. My brother got a bar that hangs on the door frame for Christmas 2012. I could do between two and three, perhaps four at my max. This was disappointing seeing as that was about the same I could do in fifth grade and I'd done a lot of swimming since. So I decided to add on one pull-up for each month. So one every day in January, two in February, and so on all the way to twelve in December. I was pretty good in the beginning. Especially in January it gave me great joy to do one pull-up and feel like I'd completed a goal for the day. Those first months were my best but as you can imaging, with each month, I got a little worse about missing days until November, I think I only did about a scattered week's worth. Yet I still made it! Even if I only did it twice in December, I can now say that I could, at one point do twelve successive pull-ups.

One failed goal that wasn't a real proposed one but just something that's been sitting in the back of my mind, was being able to do the splits. I think that's been a goal of mine for over four years, you'll have to see if it makes it on this year's list. No matter what, the good comes with the bad, and sometimes the bad appears significantly greater. We're supposed to take those bad things, at least the ones relating to character, and try to fix them. But that will come next week.

Beyond goals, if I were to pick a major event of the year, it would be going back to Greenhouse! I can't thank the Lord enough for convincing the teachers for the first time in forever to allow a Rhetoric student join at the end of the first semester. And then the day! I would probably have picked Thursday because I know practically everyone that goes on it, but clearly God had other plans and it's worked out wonderfully. Tuesday was the only day that had room and it must have been meant to be because that's the day I went on way back when and now I'm here again and I couldn't be more pleased with the way I was welcomed. And I am so so happy to have one of the same teachers I had when I left. He even was gone for a while as well but he's back and just as awesome as ever =P Of course the other triumph would be officially closing the court case, but the way it dragged on forever, it kinda felt part of life and not much to worry about. However, I will not be sad to see it go. Other little things might be just like getting lots of little part time jobs, winning NaNoWriMo, visiting my niece, and just enjoying the small things of life. I don't know if I believe in best years, either way this wouldn't be it, but it wasn't a horrible one and that's what counts.

Advocate or Assailant?

There's a fine line between what you might call helping someone but they'd call hurting. A point where too much help turns into harm. What's the distinguishing factor? I can't answer it with certainty, but I can share my experience of it with a certain someone who's motto is like that song--Cruel to be Kind.

Father always insisted that he was driven by love. Love for me apparently made him have all my best interests at heart because from the divorce onward, I was not included in any decisions concerning me. I was his little robot to do whatever he liked with, his puppet. He'd convinced himself that his motives were purely love and it blinded him.When I'd try and explain to him that his actions clearly were not showing love, he got annoyed and deflected it, saying things like did your mother tell you that? His actions simply did not convey his supposed love. It kinda made me think well if that's what love is, I really wish you didn't love me.

In school if there is nothing else I learned, there was a lot on bullies. A lot on how parents often times cause more harm than help when they assist their child too much. There's a point where if they go any further, they're living the child's life, not letting them take in experiences themselves and learning from the bad. It's over-protection and it's not healthy. Often that happens when the parent misses out on their own childhood and so forces the lifestyle they wished they'd had on their kids.

I don't know much about his childhood so I can't say his motives with certainty, but he seems to have low confidence. Always fishing around for support from others, his self image is bad. I think he wanted involvement and a feeling of accomplishment. His efforts would have been better spent elsewhere. Independent and strong willed from a young age, I had little need nor want of his sudden insistence to help me and become a part of my life. When I denied him that satisfaction, that's when the love became an issue. He believed so strongly that he was correct that he decided if anyone said something that challenged what he believed, they had a mental illness. It stung, especially after years of ignorance to everything I did, there was something wrong with me because I no longer respected him.

"Why are you doing this to me?"
"Because I love you."
"Then stop loving me. It hurts so much, it's killing me. If you loved me, you'd let go."
"I can't, I love you too much."
"That's like saying, 'come, let me chain you and throw you to the jail, it's for the best, I love you, be happy about it.' It's impossible. That's a binding love, one I can not return. It would take all of me just to pretend."
"And that's why I can't stop. If a child asks for something dangerous, the parent isn't going to give it to them just because they want it because they love them."
"That's completely beside the point, I'm not asking to do anything dangerous at all."
"No matter what you think, I do it because I love you. I know you don't like to hear it, but someday you'll understand."

Some form of this hideous conversation popped up nearly every day. It sure crushed my idea of love. It would have been kinder for him to ignore me. There were two things that could be done. He could begin to look at himself instead of denying all blame, or I could try to appease him without too much toll on myself. Recently, I've become resigned to the fact that whatever happens, it will have to be me. I have figured out where I must learn to stand in these seemingly endless visits with father. It will be a dismal Christmas indeed if I cannot learn to cope with him. I used to think that there were two options. I either loved him as was always encouraged, or the opposite. But those are two extremes so the new aim is nothingness. I would be completely content to have absolutely nothing trigger at the sight or thought of him. I simply cannot love him, yet it is forbidden that I hate. Still, I feel like I must always be leaning in one direction or the other. But wait, I thought, there's a middle! Neither love nor outright dislike can be penalized. It's vital that I at least be able to balance the two and in the long term, he will no longer hurt nor help me.

Still, if he ever became open to try something else, all it would take is a little doubt at his own stubbornness. I can always hope. Learn to let go, holding on tightly with a steel grip will only clench the chains. You insist it's love, but it can't be love for me, if it were, you'd control it because you'd see the hurt it's caused me. Love doesn't kill. It isn't forced or stubborn. Your so called love is crushing and overbearing. Love is unconditional, if you want examples, there's a fair few in the Bible.

On a last note, my last court imposed appointment with the shrink and father was yesterday. It was painful and definitely did more damage than help. It only assured them of the psycho problems I was trying to disprove and made me vulnerable to the one person in the world I would most want to hide from. Those visits were some of the longest minutes in my life. I could tell you that there's five windows in the office, four in front, one on the left, all with the shutters pulled three fourths of the way down. I could tell you that his desk is on the left with pictures of his children on it and the no doubt symbolic Nautilus shell on the edge that represents the whole facility. Then there's the ugly plant hanging from the ceiling and the spiky one on the ground. I could tell you how there's three cushions on the victim couch and two elegant, hard looking chairs facing it. On the left is the bookcase, filled with unread reference shrink books no doubt. And don't forget the table in the center, that loathed table with the timepiece in the center that I would always stare at, willing it to go faster. And how I could hear in those year long silences, the way the two clocks in the room were just a tick off from each other, causing an unsettling syncopated rhythm. I could tell you how there's forty eight squares on the shelf beneath the table with the clock. And the lamp behind the clock with the five spirals circling the neck of it. Also the fact that it was always on when there was no need, causing me to burn from the effort of not asking him to turn it off. All this and more, I could tell you from barely a glance around, but nothing useful. It must be my least favorite room in the world. Honestly. Think twice before going to a shrink, try resolving whatever it is among yourselves. I found that my church, friends, and kitties were ten times more helpful, and 100% cheaper.
1 Corinthians 13:4-7
4 Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous or boastful or proud. 5 Or rude. It does not demand its own way. It is not irritable, and it keeps no record of being wronged. 6 It does not rejoice about injustice but rejoices whenever the truth wins out. 7 Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance.

And On and On it Goes

I'm back, sorry about those pitiful posts the last two weeks. November flew by so quickly but here I am again, with good news!! After two years of wanting to be a part of NaNoWriMo, including the winning, I finally managed it! No, it wasn't a breeze as I'd expected, but it was so rewarding. As you all know, it was on my mind all November, every time I was on the computer not working on it. So I really wanted to share the rocky journey, to be an encouragement that it is always too early to give up. Here's how my month went.

So about two years I heard about NaNoWriMo and I've been aching to try it ever since. It was just the kind of motivation I needed. Every other story I'd ever begun lasted no more than a few pages at most and then I'd give up. Well for the next two years, I signed up and attempted for maybe a week or so, but didn't get much past that. The first time, I blamed it on not having a computer at my house. The second, it was because I was too busy what with being at school eight hours a day and such. But this November, I knew it was my chance and I couldn't pass it by. I'd so graciously been released from public school not two months earlier, and now had time on my side, I thought it would be easy. Everything was perfectly set up for me to follow my dreams of how fun it would be.

I started out very excited, with no idea whatsoever for a plot or where I would go with it. Of course I'd tossed some possibilities around, played with a few, but I really wanted to have a fresh, clean slate to start on, because when I've been forming things in my head for a long time, I tend to use up all my energy at the beginning getting out all the fully formed details. Then I run out of steam and the story dies. I'd convinced my brother to join the adult website and so he and I were both so pumped about it. He didn't last three days. I wonder if that's part of it. Though I barely tried those first years, I think the failure strengthened me to really give my best this time through. Because three is a magic number.

After the first few days, I was already falling behind. I'd already begun thinking, "I don't think I can do this, I'll just have to try again next year," when my brother was like "No, you have to do this!" And it strengthened my resolution. I saw how he'd done the "next year" drop out method, but he still wanted me to do it. It made me decide exactly how much I wanted this and got me writing again. At least for a few days...of course life wouldn't slow down to accommodate my writing time, I had to find time along with everything else and I soon fell behind again. Even when I had time, I wasted it. I kept putting it off, convinced that I would do it later when I had more ideas. Most days I wrote nothing at all, or if I did, it was very little. Now and again I would have a sudden flash of what was going to happen and then I'd write like crazy, almost catching up on that maddeningly satisfying graph. They were glimpses though, and never lasted long. I was gradually falling behind, also increasing my 'number of words needed to finish on time' very slowly.

It was the realization that we would be gone the last week of November that spurred me into action. It's that problem again with time where if you have too much of it you slack. Before finally urging me into a mad gallop, I stupidly waited those remaining days, absorbing that there was no way I could write in the car and that it would put me so behind that I had failed once again. It was sad to think that I would have to wait all the way 'til next year again. Or so I thought. Then out of nowhere everyone seemed to remember that I was on a deadline and encouraged me not to give up. We stopped at my sister's place for the midpoint of our journey, and though I was tired and not in much a mood to write, I did it anyway.

Of course even then I still didn't think I'd make it. I didn't even know if my grandma's house had internet and even if she did, I wasn't even half way finished. Yet that week I was again raised high by everyone's interest and the way they made it important. The computer was new and the internet would suffice to support my simple Google document that I was working through. But it wasn't until three days from the end that I realized if I really put my mind to it, it was completely possible to win, but only just. The next morning most everyone left for an all day visit with my opa. I didn't want to go and they let me stay to write. So I had a marathon. I wrote all day with breaks at 500-1000 word intervals. It was strangely entertaining. At that point my focus wasn't on the content so much, I had no room to be picky if I was going for the words. I wrote whatever popped into my head, I wrote only scenes that interested me, skipping around like crazy at the end. Upon reaching my goal on the last day possible, I felt very accomplished and very worn out.

The product was 80 something pages of story that I might never use, or perhaps I will. I haven't even read through it all yet, but I know without doing so that what I have right now is a bunch of disconnected scenes that I will have a job trying to sew together. The beginning isn't even the same story. Since over half was written in just a few days, I can see when I started to get somewhere with any of it. I didn't understand my characters at all in the beginning. Yet it doesn't matter. That was more than I've written ever before and it's taught my three things. Perseverance is rewarding. I truly do enjoy writing, even a lot of it. And it takes time and experimenting to get anywhere in a story. It's not like what I ended up with is a final copy. Even though I think I might change the whole goal of it, that's what first drafts are for. It showed me what I was looking for and gave me a place to begin and it was incredible. There's nothing more rewarding to me than reaching goals. After all that uncertainty about whether or not I'd even finish, I can say that I was successful and enjoy six months to edit, come up with an ending, and then get free printed copies. How cool is that?

And, to all my German readers out there, Happy Saint Nicholas Day!

Here's the verse as promised, check back on last week as well because I added a good Thanksgiving one.
Romans 5:3-4
3 We can rejoice, too, when we run into problems and trials, for we know that they help us develop endurance. 4 And endurance develops character, and character strengthens our confident hope of salvation.

NaNo Countdown

I nearly forgot to blog for today. I did make it to Florida fine and I'm having a grand time. We leave on Sunday most likely. We were going to leave tomorrow, but they made arrangements for me to be able to do my NaNoWriMo! I wasn't feeling too good about finishing it when I realized that we would be spending two days driving in which we wouldn't have internet, because I hadn't been doing very good even before I left home because the internet wasn't working there either. So I was pretty resigned to the fact that I would just have to try again next year, but then everyone was like well that's really cool, we'll help you out. And so everyone has been making sure that I'll be able to do my writing and these last few days especially, I've been cramming like never before. But enjoying it as well =P
This whole month I've been changing my mindset probably every day or even hour thinking Finally I'm going to win! and then next, No I have no chance. But I'm so close that I can't give in now, Í feel so pressured to finish because I've been given tomorrow to write nearly all day. Today we went to the Everglades which took all day and has left me feeling behind, but I'm finding that once again, the less time I have, the more I get done. Five days ago I would have never believed you if you told me I was going to win NaNo. I wasn't even half way to my goal. But here I am, closer than I've ever been, and I'm confident that I'll finish, no matter if it means staying up all night. I took the time out of that because I love updating, and plus it's good not to have to be making things up, meaning I knew what I could write about and it's a nice warm up.
I'll be back to my normal, not so messy posts next week.
Back to my writing now.
Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

Gah! I just saw that my auto publisher never posted last weeks. That makes me really sad =(
Well, here it is anyway:
meant for the 22.

The Clock Is Ticking

Once again, I'm finding myself in a time crunch. Tomorrow I have to be somewhere else literally every hour of the day and I'm leaving on Saturday to go to Florida! Bad time management on my part, but the internet also decided to turn off two days ago so now I have to go to the library for everything I need. No NaNoWriMo, no fixing this post before it's edited, no printing papers. I'm going to set this on a schedule, so by the time it's out, I'll be cruising along the highway, (well soon enough).

Yet I am so grateful. I'd much rather be bust than bored. It is so amazing that everything lined up perfectly for me tomorrow. That almost never happens where I can go to everything because they overlap. It's really cool. Anyhow, I'd better get back to packing, but I hope everyone has a good Thanksgiving. I'll be in Florida all next week. I'm hoping to be able to get some internet so I can post next Friday as well, but just so you know if I don't, that will be why.
Happy relaxing!
Psalm 95:2-3
2 Let us come to him with thanksgiving. Let us sing psalms of praise to him. 3 For the Lord is a great God, a great King above all gods.

Turning Over A New Leaf

There are two reactions I can think of that have to do with the coming of fall. Disgust or excitement. I would put myself in the first category. Unlike so many of my neighbors who get the pretty red leaves on their trees, ours just turn brown. Nothing pretty or awe inspiring, they simply look dead. The spiky skeleton of an empty tree is only depressing. To me it just means we're in for a long, windy, and dreary season. Everything dies and you know winter is on the way. And winter means cold--bitter cold. That's what I think of when I think about fall.

Coming back to this later, I saw how negative it sounded and how it kinda went against a lot of things I've been complaining about. I may despise fall, but I wish I didn't. I decided that it's like getting along with people. Sometimes you have to be the one to choose to be friendly. Lately I've been learning how a lot of things in life are like that; so many things could be made positive if only they were looked at in a different light. The only problem is choosing to think a different way because many don't like that idea. But it got me thinking...What is at least one thing I enjoy about fall? Well, there's always the colors...as long as I don't think about what the changing implies, there's no denying how beautiful a street full of fall trees looks. And then my birthday is a few days into fall too...that's always a plus to whatever season. I also like to wear jeans and sweaters, but usually it's too cold to wear those without extra layers. Beyond that, I wouldn't mind fast forwarding to spring.

Perhaps my main grudge is that I have to ride my bike everywhere in it. All through the winter last year when I went to Wheaton North, excepting about five days of unbearable cold in the negatives, I rode two miles in that mucky weather at 7:00 a.m. every day. It makes me miserable. I have to dress like an Eskimo or be freezing all over. I think I naturally lose heat quickly anyway because even indoors my feet and fingers are incessantly cold. Then there's always the issues to deal with from the temperature change when going into a heated building from the outdoors. Runny noses are annoying and give me the worst chapped lips. Then hats always flatten my hair and make it look uncombed. Yet I'm trying to give thanks anyway. Whining about weather is really low and hey, it gives the perfect awkward conversation filler.

This must be the most diverse, contradicting post I've ever done, at least I hope so. Someone taught me the concept of thinking of at least one thing you like about something you really don't enjoy at all. I suppose I showed how it realistically happens. How first you think of the one good thing but immediately drown it by thinking of all the bad things. I don't know, try it out sometime. It helps occasionally.

Kitty Korner

This is my darlings' fall schedule

-wake up

-eat breakfast

-morning adventure outside

-back inside and each retire to designated area for afternoon nap. 

-beg to go out (too late because it's dark out)

-dinner

-bed

Today I had a literal cat nap. I came home from the library, exhausted after spending hours on my homework. When I came inside I saw Fred and George cuddled up on the couch together, so I thought I'd join them. So I did. And it was the warmest, nicest fifteen minute nap I could ever have had and neither of them minded! I love walking in the front door and knowing where each of my cats are. To my right I know I'll see Fred on the feinting couch, straight ahead, George will be curled up in a blanket on the couch, and to my left I can be sure to see Lily sitting on the dining room table. I guess that's another good thing about fall; warm blankets and cuddles with kitties. They're soo adorable I almost can't stand it! One morning I found George sleeping in the washcloth drawer in the kitchen because we'd left it open. And then there's Lily who lays on my lap whenever it's empty, whether that be during school or while I'm reading. She's so small she needs all the extra heat she can get. As I write this she is laying on half of the keyboard on top of my left hand so I can barely reach some of the letters. So cute but it's a bit of a handicap.

Galatians 6:9

So let's not get tired of doing what is good. For in due season we shall reap a harvest of blessings if we don't give up.

Juggling; the Art of Multitasking

I was about an inch from insanity this past week. With school every day, music five times a week, and church youth group twice, it keeps me on my toes. And that's not even including eating, sleeping, homework, practice, and leisure time, oh no, those aren't important enough to make it on the list. I kept thinking how in the world can I get everything done while still keeping myself together? During these times I feel as if I'm faking my way through it all, pretending everything's completely fine. After getting past the shock of me being able to homeschool again, I am figuring out that it's not going to turn out any less work. Sure, there's less busy work, and yes, I can do things whenever I like, but I'm still on a schedule. A schedule that seems to be filling up even more than before. What with NaNoWriMo starting last week and me being back at Greenhouse, I just don't know how I'm going to keep up with everything. I think we all could use a lesson on juggling. By writing, sometimes I can figure it out and happily, I've compiled a list I think is actually helpful.

Anyone like my connection between juggling and multitasking? Actually it isn't my own, I think it's a pretty common expression. Anyways, I learned to juggle over the summer...sort of. I can only do a couple rotations without dropping the balls but it was a start and I got the feeling of it. I think there's something to be learned from the process of learning to juggle. Here is a rundown of the steps it took to get there and how we can apply it to life.

The first thing I learned when starting off, was that I needed to take it one step at a time. My juggling set included a paper with five instructions on it. If I had tried to start with the last step, I would have failed. In fact I'm sure I did try, because failure is sometimes a prerequisite before realising we need to start from the beginning. If we'll only start from step one, it will make the later ones easier instead of trying the hard over and over and getting frustrated. Sometimes it will take longer to get through the steps, sometimes it won't. What I found with juggling was that getting to the last step was easy, mastering it was not. Which leads me into the next point, making a schedule.

I must confess that this is the reason that prevented me from saying I can juggle. The fact that everything worth doing takes practice, and can't usually be learned in one day, or even a week, depending how hard the task is keeps many from finishing. Consistency is extremely helpful in this area. There are three other components involved in juggling. Timing/rhythm, focus, and rest. It takes focus to get the timing right, and rest to be able to focus. Often I find that the third is forgotten but it might even be the most important.

It's probably pretty obvious how this ties in, but I'll elaborate anyhow. First I want to change something around a little but. I think that perhaps it is wiser to make the schedule before taking one step at a time. Then you can set goals to achieve in a manageable manner because you know what the goal is. Finding rhythm might go along with that--pick a time that's good to be consistent and aim for it every time. Then you must focus, because if you don't, it wastes time and doesn't accomplish anything. If you can't focus, then that probably means you need a break. Even God took a rest after creating the world, on Sunday. It wouldn't be a bad idea to simply set everything aside for one day a week to rejuvenate. I don't know why we do it, but humans seem naturally convinced that if we stop for even a minute, the world will collapse because everything we do is of vital importance. Stop telling yourself you're so busy. I know that personally, the things I worry about aren't that important if I thought about it. It's nice to get things done but when it gets in the way it only ruins other things.

We can't make time, but we can find it. Strangely, the less time you have the more you get done. I'm fairly certain this is universally accepted. We put things off so often it's ridiculous. I have one piece of advice in this area. Use your waiting time wisely. I'm willing to bet that I spend half my time waiting. If that's true for you, then that is where you can get extra time. If you can't be actually doing it, you can at least be thinking about it, planning for it, wherever you're at. Unless you're having your rest time, thinking would be more useful than zoning out because otherwise the time was wasted.

Matthew 11:28-30
28 Then Jesus said, "Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. 29 Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. 30 For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light."

Larger Than Life

I thought I'd celebrate November with a post on why I write. Because we all know what November means...National Novel Writing Month, whoo!

I first began writing in fifth grade. I don't mean just enjoying writing, though I certainly did, I mean it truly was my first time trying my hand at making up stories and writing them down. I added the writing them down part because I do believe I'd been creating stories long before that in my mind and with play-mobile, stuffed animals, and every other kids toy. Oh yes I remember those days when I didn't worry about forgetting ideas. Writing them down was and always will be the hardest part.

Something I came to realise was that my way of writing at that age wasn't common. The one comment the teacher made to my parents was that my stories were good, but that I never finished them. This I believe is a writers frame of mind. We're able to start something before it's completely formed in the mind. It was true, I would begin something, write a few chapters, then get bored and start something else. While I'd spend chapters getting into the character, everyone else wrote short stories because they needed the end to be in sight. They wrote little summaries of something they did with their friends and wouldn't dare make something up in a fantasy land. The difference was that I was not afraid to just start out with a character and follow them wherever they wanted to go. I know a big part of the ability to write stories beyond experiences lies in our imaginations. Having been homeschooled I had time to see and do so much more than these children which gave me a huge head start.

As I've gotten older, writing has become more meaningful to me than telling a story. It's my friend when I'm feeling sick at heart and it's my only outlet at times.To me writing isn't just about communication. It's deeper. With writing no one can pretend it means something different if you really put your heart into it. This is handy for me because my words and actions don't always match. I'll say one thing, act another, and mean something else. Written word gives me the opportunity to say exactly what I mean in a convincing way. To me it seems more serious. There's no face behind it to lighten the tone with a smile to make it unbelievable. No one doubts what it means because it's stated clearly. Words have always been rather harsh and delightfully plain to me. They don't have multiple meaning that you have to guess at like with people.

Another reason I write is because it helps me understand myself, sort out my thoughts, and organize my brain somewhat. I've always found written instructions more helpful than oral because I can refer back to them without fear of forgetting. It helps me realize my own values and gives words to describe them for others. It also makes things true. By recording it down on paper, it shows that it was important enough that it wasn't made up, to me at least. Often I won't understand how I feel about something until I write it down and see the words I've used because I've been taught to ignore feelings and live numbly apart from them. Writing makes me feel a part of it like wandering in a library among shelves of descriptions and taking some down to study and identify with.

Beyond writing for myself, I just finished a wonderful book on writing called "Bird by Bird" by Anne Lamott in which there was a chapter on writing gifts. Writing like you're doing it for someone else is so powerful. It allows you not only to figure out where you yourself are trying to go, but once you do, you can share it with others and help immensely because there will always be someone out there who's desperate to know if anyone is thinking similarly and could use help. I searched far and wide for something written by a child who'd gone through anything like me and found nothing. It's a great feeling to know that the pain of reliving experiences you'd rather forget caused by writing it down will help another in the end. I write mostly for myself, but when that fails, I can always get myself to write for others.

With NaNoWriMo going on and everything I still plan to post but I'll see how it goes (my name is Wink on the young program if you want to add me). I'm so excited! This is the first year I'll really be able to participate because I'm finally at home and I own a computer so I don't have to do it at the library. Encouragement and cheers to anyone else who has taken on the challenge; let the month begin!

I found this verse both comforting and fascinating that there was someone who lived so long ago that had a problem with speech  and describes it in such a way that I can directly relate to the feeling. Yet the Lord gave him other ways to communicate, one of which was a spokesperson. It makes my inability to speak well seem a little more like a gift than a curse.

Exodus 4:10
10 But Moses pleaded with the Lord, "O Lord, I'm not very good with words. I never have been, and I'm not now, even though you have spoken to me. I get tongue-tied, and my words get tangled."
11 Then the Lord asked Moses, "Who makes a person's mouth? Who decides whether people speak or do not speak, hear or do not hear, see or do not see? Is it not I, the Lord?

A Poke at Politics

"The God who gave us life gave us liberty at the same time; the hand of force may destroy but cannot disjoin them."

-A Summary View of the Rights of British America (1774)

I came across this quote in the program of a concert I went to recently and I think it's brilliantly true. I know this is a subject that almost everyone goes off on debates about so I thought I'd put my one cent in. I've never been that interested in politics so I'm not going to pretend like I know much about them. I feel like I should be more involved than I am seeing as I have a brother in the army but the fact is I'm not. I just don't see the point of getting in heated arguments over how the government is run because that just divides us further. Anyway, that's just my own opinion.

What bothers me is why Christians also seem to think sometimes that humanity is at stake if this person isn't elected, or that law isn't passed, when the Bible clearly shows where we should put all our hope. Let's not forget who really gives life and liberty here. The hymn "My Hope is Built on Nothing Less" is based off of Matthew 7:24-27. It shows that our foundation should be Christ, solely. We can't have split loyalties. That shows a great deal of distrust that the Lord can and will save and instead puts faith in people who are very unreliable. You'd think we'd have learned this by now. On our own, we will never be able to create lasting harmony. We're flawed and that's that. There will always be people out there left unhappy unless we're united under the one true God.

If you remember, the last line of the pledge tries to connect the two. "One nation, under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all." It's a good goal to strive for, but one we haven't yet reached. Even if it wasn't written on a document, I rather thought that life and liberty were a given. I didn't need someone to give me these. Jefferson saw this when he named them unalienable rights. He recognizes that they can neither be given or taken except by God. Neither do I agree with us being called indivisible. As far as I'm concerned, we are far from that because if we're divided among ourselves, it will eventually split the nation. The closest we've been to working together would have been the Declaration of Independence because they were all working toward a common goal. I admire them so much for that. That a group of people so different could find a way to unite makes me wonder what in today's society has changed that. Now that we're free, we no longer have one thing in mind but a whole host of ideas that we want implemented. Now. I'll enforce my view with another wonderful quote, this one by J.K. Rowling. "We are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided."

I also don't agree with the justice and liberty for all part. Having been involved in the court system for over five years I've learned a thing or two about what America calls justice and liberty and I can't imagine what other ways we're being misled. It was most definitely the Lord that rescued me from the court judgement because what happened was not typical. I'm not suggesting we all give America up as a lost cause but don't bet your whole life on it because some day, and that may not be far, it will fall. And if it's God's will, there is nothing we can do to stop it.

I was going to say that I found this verse completely by accident, but in another sense I think I must have been led to it on purpose.
2 Corinthians 10:3-4
We are human, but we don't wage war as humans do. We use God's mighty weapons, not worldly weapons, to knock down the strongholds of human reasoning and to destroy false arguments.

Keeping Kids Kornered

If you've ever been to a divorce evaluator (which I pray you never get the chance) or perhaps even a regular psychologist, more likely than not you've seen the picture of parents playing tug of war with their child.  I've seen it before and heard the term loads of times but just recently it struck me how ridiculous it is. It's supposed to illustrate how you need to avoid putting your kids in the middle of situations by working it out between the two you.

Good news! you don't need to worry about this because it's a complete myth. Children being caught in the middle is inevitable. By simply being alive we're in the middle. Traditionally, in family pictures the kids are in the middle. You don't just put the parents on one side and have the kids stand by themselves. Seriously, kids pretty much are the middle of their parents. Divorce isn't just between a father and a mother. If that was true, then it shouldn't affect the kids, right? That's not at all what happens. When one parent moves out if anything, it becomes the kid's responsibility more than ever. It's not the parents that travel to see their kids, the kids are the ones who travel between parents. When we see the evaluator the questions are all about being in the middle. Who would you rather live with? Tell us about mommy and daddy's faults etc. They're never that direct but that's what they mean. We're the middleman because we're honest.

I find it unusual that those who are against putting kids in the middle are the same ones promoting how you need to do whatever is best for the kids. It's odd to me because these seem like two conflicting viewpoints. It doesn't take months upon months to file a simple divorce saying you're no longer married. It only takes that long if you have kids which means that the divorce is now about the kids-- meaning they're in the middle. But if you're going to ignore what they say because you don't want them in the middle, then you're being selfish by doing whatever is best for you and your child could be a cat for all you care about their opinions. This encourages the idea that the children matter, just not what they think. You can't take the kids out of the middle and still say it's about them.

I suppose there are three directions in which we can be placed. Either to the side, in the middle, or split in half.  If you're shoved to the side that means you get no input because mum and da know what's best. That's why I prefer calling it cornering kids. If you're split in half you still have no say except this time some outside source like the courts controls the kids so neither parent can be more involved with the child. This is the most popular method today and it goes by the name of joint parenting. The middle is created simply by having two parents. If this is true then there most definitely is a middle and when it comes down to it, honestly it's where I prefer to be.

My mum was blamed endlessly for putting me in the middle but where else was there? Everything has a beginning, middle and end. It doesn't begin with the father and end with the mother. By no means. It includes so many people in between including first and foremost, your own children. If you're pretending otherwise, you're kidding yourself. If we're not in the middle, then who is? That would be like trying to to play tug of war with no middle. Each parent is holding one knot. The picture above is contradicting itself. By saying not to play tug of war you're asking the child to take sides. The reality is that you're trying to cut the child down the middle and give half to each parent. Each parent will have the benefit of having half of the child. That way there is no middle because you can evenly split it. That may satisfy parents, but it kills the kid.

And is that really what you want? By excluding me from decisions about where I live, where I go to school, and who I visit for my birthday and other huge aspects, it really hurt me. It's unforgivable and these affected me directly and therefore put me in the middle whether it was intended or not. Call it what you like, but it all amounts to the same thing. It all eventually circles round to me because everything you do sets off a whole string of reactions.

I was inspired to write this as I was looking through a list of divorce books getting angrier by the minute as I read titles like "Making It Easier On Your Child" and "Putting Children First." How can you do that when things aren't right between the two splitting up? Can they be trusted to do what is right for their children if they as adults did not do what was right? I heard a sad story about a violist from Julliard that dropped out and became a teacher instead because she'd developed tendinitis and could no longer play. She went on to teach her students to play in such a way that they developed beautiful tendinitis. It's tragic. She spread her own bad techniques into the lives of young, able kids.

I guess what I'm really trying to say is don't be ignorant. There are more methods than one to do something so take the time to understand someone before you go with the flow. Not everyone is the same which means you should try and think for yourself once in a while especially when it's a bigger issue like raising kids.
I'm late with the verse, as usual. I picked this because it shows how the greatest man ever to walk the earth, Jesus, our Lord and King, was kind to children and cared about them to pay attention and bless them.
Matthew 19:14
But Jesus said, "Let the children come to me. Don't stop them! For the Kingdom of Heaven belongs to those who are like these children."

Counseling for Councelors

I have never been a fan of counseling. This is, in part, due to the fact that I started at such an early age where I saw no need for it because I thought I could deal on my own. I didn't need to complain or seek help from someone I barely knew. I've always been a rather private person, recent events have caused me to be even more so. Counseling was just about the last thing I needed.

It was with the best intentions that I was sent to my first shrink in 5th grade. It was near the beginning of the divorce which is the time when the kids are supposed to be feeling betrayed, depressed, and confused. So though I didn't need the help at the time, it was thought to be beneficial to have someone for me to talk to. Not so much the case. I dreaded it every week. The only reason I went at all was because I got out of school early once a week. It probably did not help that I already had a bad view of it from the appointments with the evaluator from the divorce. Awkward, boring, and full of prying questions, our sessions were not at all helpful unless you count giving me a good topic to write about. At first I tried hard. I really did. I wanted to convince them that I truly understood everything that was going on and I could make decisions for myself. Except everything came out wrong. When trying to express the lonely feeling of sitting in my room, literally staring at a wall, trying to block out my thoughts because they hurt too much. Sitting there doing nothing because I'd been confined to the house because I wouldn't spend time with father. It would come out something like this:
"He doesn't let me do anything."
Feeble, right? That could mean anything. I sounded like a spoiled brat. I simply didn't have the capacity to express feelings that should be beyond an 11 year old. My best chance was when he'd paraphrase what I was trying to say, then asking if it was correct. I'd nod vigorously wishing I could have thought to say it like that. In this way he got the raw facts laid out such as I liked homeschooling and I didn't like father. It grazed the surface of my situation yet never came close to the full truth.

There's a joke in some movie that all you have to do to be a counselor is listen, say mhmm, and ask "how do you feel about that?" It's so true! Except if they have someone like me who won't talk--that makes them work. The first shrink was a young lady in her twenties, maybe right out of college. I was just about the worst starting project she could ever have had and I feel pretty bad about it. I refused to talk most of the time and if I did it would be with one word answers. I could be the most disagreeable, closed child when I wanted to be. She put in a valiant effort. She asked if I knew why I was there and I told her no. She asked if there was anything I wanted to talk about and I said no. Because I wouldn't talk about myself, she decided I needed help expressing my feelings. She printed out some pictures of cartoon faces showing different emotions. At the beginning of each session she'd have me point to three pictures I was feeling. I'd avoid these too by picking the ones that didn't really describe inner emotions such as sleepy, bored, and satisfied. I'd drag it out as long as I could, pretending to contemplate. I gave her nothing to work with. She'd ask why I was bored and I'd say I didn't want to be there.

I remember one particular session after I'd been going for a few weeks I could tell she was running out of ideas and getting frustrated so she asked me what I wanted to do. I don't remember my response but I must have said nothing because that's exactly what we did. We sat there for the entire hour which felt like years. But that's the other thing. I can't say with certainty that it was really that long because it could have been only half an hour but in my mind it stretched for hours. I could feel myself shutting down after just a few minutes until all I was focused on was avoiding questions, providing answers only when I had to, anything to stop her prying.

Eventually she gave up on me and gave me a craft to do while trying her best to keep up a one way conversation. The last two weeks she gave up entirely and we watched a movie. Poor lady, I hope I didn't ruin her career. I didn't mean to cause her grief, I most truly did not. I never enjoyed testing her, it was more of a defense mechanism. I came to despise that waiting room which if I remember correctly was all cheerful and bright which was the opposite of what I was feeling. It was small and stuffy and as I sat I would get all stiff and my breathing came in short, fast puffs. Ironically, it seemed that the sessions caused exactly that which we were trying to prevent.

After that I wasn't sent to any specifically to help me but as an obligation from the courts to force me to improve my relationship with father. It was always the same though. They all thought that I had issues because apparently every child of divorce, as someone on Moody radio put it, is damaged goods. If I hadn't recently been to another shrink I would blame my memories all on childish exaggeration but it wasn't. It causes the same anxiety every time. It is physically impossible for me to express what I mean. It starts in the waiting room with my heart pounding, sweaty, freezing palms, and shortened breathing, there's simply no way I can think clearly. But just when the best thing I could do for myself is to go sprinting away to burn some energy, instead when the door opens I walk through it into the office where I feel even more caged. Make yourself comfortable they say. Of course that means sit on the couch. So you sit, thinking you'd be so much more comfortable anywhere else, but you're stuck and what's there to do but wait 'til it's over? And I forgot to mention how everything you do is judged from the moment you walk through the door. From where you sit, to how you sit, everything is interpreted as a sign of your mental state etc. It's enough to drive anyone mad. Then I'd sit there facing memories, trying to think how to word them, and failing. Anything I did try to say always ended up backfiring. Afterwards I could barely keep myself from running outside. As soon as I was out the door I'd feel so relieved and I'd run for minutes until I felt normal again.

It was obvious to me that if I were ever to tell anyone what I truly thought of everything it would have to be on my own time and in my own way. My first and last attempt was in middle school English class. It was the beginning of the year and the teacher assigned a paper to be finished by the end of class called If You Really Knew Me. She said she'd be referring to it all year to try and understand us and our papers better. Normally I would make up some stuff and not really put any of me into a paper like this but the opportunity to be seen for who I am was too good to miss. So I tried, and failed miserably. I ran out of time and all I succeeded in doing was earning her pity, thinking I was a poor little kid with a wonderful father. I hated myself for it all year and vowed not to try anything like it again for fear of misunderstanding.

I'm sorry for all the superfluous detail but I cannot begin to describe the impact it's made on me. I bet by describing all this it makes me seem ill when this whole time I was trying to say I don't need a counselor and never did. But honestly, it was painful. It was so memorable that in eighth grade we were assigned to write a survival story. So I wrote one called Surviving Counseling. It's kind of a humorous take on everything I went through but it was so easy to write and really fun. I got 100% on it.

This is just to say that my experience with it has been a terrible one and that there have been people far more helpful to me than any with a degree in interpreting human feelings. It a very iffy art in my opinion and not a useful one. You don't need to be a professional to tell if someone's happy or sad and that's pretty much all that's necessary to have a surface level relationship which is all father ever wanted so why we need to go to counseling again? I don't know.

A counselor is one who gives advice or wisdom. I'd say the only thing qualified counselors are good for is perhaps giving official names to ways you are feeling which make even the least of problems seem dire. Here are three things more helpful than a shrink:
1. godly people--Psalm 37:30
The godly offer good counsel; they teach right from wrong.
2. (godly) friends--Proverbs 27:9
The heartfelt counsel of a friend is as sweet as perfume and incense.
3. Proverbs (where better to find advice than the Bible itself? Proverbs is full of it!)--Proverbs 1:2-3
2 Their purpose is to teach people wisdom and discipline, to help them understand the insights of the wise.
3 Their purpose is to teach people to live disciplined and successful lives, to help them do what is right, just, and fair.

Losing in Victory

You may be thinking to yourself--Melissa, this seems very contradictory, no one likes losing--and you'd be absolutely right. It's a fact. No one says yippee I lost! Or, I am so excited to lose today! It's just not how we think. So what can we do when it hits us hard and you're just not feeling it anymore? Do you give up and call it a lost cause? Perhaps, but life goes on. You've got to cope with it somehow at some point.

In a way, I lost. I let five years of my life go by without doing anything to help myself except that which I was forced to do. I used to dream about changing the court system, writing a letter, and starting some sort of revolution. I child's wish. No one listens to children, teens or not. The desire I believe was not wrong but I wasn't the one destined to carry it out. Being noticed is not one of my strong points so I never would have been successful on my own. Instead I chose defiant obedience, something that didn't require another's help. While I did agree to go to public school and to bear the pain, I put up a fight. But at the end of the day it's not about winning, it's learning.

I could call myself a failure and be all depressed but at the same time, I've gained more than I lost. I won't be able to go back and make up for the last several years but it was completely worth it. My entire mind and spirit have been transformed in a way that had it not been for all the turmoil, might not have ever happened. God gives us just the perfect tools to handle whatever situation we're in. What I desired for most was eloquent speech. I pictured myself standing before the judge demanding acceptance of my own terms. But God had another plan--something that wouldn't give glory to me but to him. It wasn't my place to try and change things. I've been taught so many other valuable lessons for which I am endlessly grateful. In the end I even got my wish. Whether I will regret it, I cannot tell.

It's all finished today for me. I chose to do it silently, simply turned my books in to the library. Monday I'll just be gone and no one will be any the wiser, might not even notice. The only ones who know I won't be back at school are about five kids in my English class and the teacher. They made me feel good, reprimanding me for not announcing it earlier or they would have thrown a goodbye party. Likely no one would care anyway but it was nice. I was merely a passing shadow to most, a good lab partner at best.

No more waking before it's light out, unless it pleases me to do so. I can't help but feel a little sentimental. I'll be leaving behind a boring, yet predictable life knowing whatever is ahead will challenge me in nearly every way. Who knows where I'll end up. It's more exciting than sad though. The good outweighs the bad. It's mostly the few people I will no longer see every day, wave to in the hall, be encouraged by. It seems we always miss things more when we know they will no longer be available, no matter how much we abhorred it before. We'll see. It's not like I'm alone...just because I'm on a path I chose doesn't mean God is leaving me. No doubt I'll be leaning on him even more.

The point where I realised that it was more than winning was necessary. If not for my fear of actually carrying out some of my drastic daydreams, I might have come out being alive and successful, but with no lasting gain. The part that truly matters is what comes from the heart. I had to be humbled to the point that I knew there was nothing I could do in my power to change the judges or father's mindset. I had to lose in order to gain victory. Sounds ironic, but it's true. It's the same with Jesus who had do die in order to save us. So then through his Resurrection, we might have life. Victory comes through failure.

Proverbs 19:21 (NLT)
You can make many plans, but the Lord's purpose will prevail.

Sweet 16's and Victories

Tomorrow is my birthday, I'll be officially sweet! I'm super excited because I have a lot of fun things planned. But besides that, I have some awesome news. The final decisions in court were written up and I was given the decision concerning my own education, meaning I can home-school again! Talk about answered prayers, this seemed like a complete miracle to me. It was totally unexpected. I guess I've been thinking about it for so long that I really never imagined anything could change. Thank you everyone for your prayers. I am truly grateful. All I could think about when I got the news was this quote by M.L.K. Jr. He says: “Free at last, Free at last, Thank God almighty we are free at last.”  A flood of relief seeped through me and it all felt so surreal. Though I have not yet switched out of public school, the knowledge that I can whenever I wish is giving me strength. A whole new world of opportunities has been opened. And it's not just a dream, it's for real; I have to keep telling myself that. I simply can not express my happiness. God really does answer our prayers.

Today I can not think what to write on any one specific topic. A lot of things will be changing for me, hopefully for the better, and I know I'll still be on rocky road but I believe that that's the life of a Christian. If everything was easy there would be no reason for trust. God calls us to have child-like faith. I just realised that I rather confused that statement by using both trust and faith consecutively which makes me wonder are they the same thing? According to the online dictionary, faith is "complete trust or confidence in someone or something" or the religious version, "strong belief in God or in the doctrines of a religion, based on spiritual apprehension rather than proof." While trust is defined as "firm belief in the reliability, truth, ability, or strength of someone or something." See they overlap in a way, because trust is used in the definition of faith. So they're similar, yet different. Faith I think is more something to have in Christ, whereas trust is something we achieve through faith. With all this court stuff, it's not the faith I need to work on, because I know God has a higher plan, it's the trust with the when, why, and how. 

Constantly I'll sit around praying when when when? It must be obnoxious how little trust I have. If after a week nothing has happened, I tend to give up, thinking oh well, it's never going to happen. The knowledge that God has a plan for me doesn't go beyond that sometimes. I mean that I don't always believe it in my heart that it's possible for him to accomplish things that seem far fetched to me, which is ridiculous because he is so much greater than us. The fact that the results of court came as a shock means I was expecting nothing good to come of it. Except God was in charge all along and rescued me, not just barely, but with victory and triumph. He was the ultimate judge, he gave the final ruling to set me free of father's stubbornness. After these five long and hard years, I have been answered. And not only that, but I have been so strengthened through my experiences that I am excited to see where I'll be going next. I need to stop asking when and just believe that all will be revealed at the proper time, however long it might take.

With my new-found freedom I hope to practice my instruments more, write more, read more, learn more, and I will strive to be encouraging to others. I might even audit a Greek class at the college, something I've wanted to do for years but never had the time before. I am so happy I had today off of school to sort thinks through and have a relaxing weekend. September birthdays are the best!

I have two verses for the week this time because I missed last Friday accidentally.
Philippians 4:13 
I can do all things through him who strengthens me.
Hebrew 11:1
Faith is the confidence that what we hope for will actually happen; it gives us assurance about things we cannot see.

You Know You're A Suzuki-ist When...

I was thinking about some things that suzuki method kids have in common and a lot of them are pretty strange so I thought I'd share what I came up with. 
You know you're a "suzuki-ist" when...

1. You are shocked after trying to explain a rhythm as "goody goody stop stop," that they don't know what that means
This is the first rhythm every suzuki player learns. I remember going as a beginner to observe the Christmas concert and watching all the pre-twinkles do the cute little bow exercise while saying goody goody stop stop. I leaned over and whispered in my mum's ear "I'm never doing that." I'm reminded frequently of this as it was introduced in my first week or so and I still use it today.

2. Humming suzuki pieces to yourself
This can be a good sign or a bad one depending on how you look at it. It's good because this implies that you've been listening to the cd a lot as this type of learning requires. Unfortunately, they get stuck in your head and who wants to be caught humming classical music to themselves? This might earn you the title of music nerd.

3. You catch yourself thinking the "words" while you play
Let's face it, how many pieces can you play in book one without thinking of them as songs with words? Maybe one? Every time I play Minuet One I'll be thinking "I'm special la la la la..." whether I want to or not.

4. You only know the made up name of the piece
I think I will forever be convinced that Allegretto is really called Mr. Frog and Lightly Row is Little Mouse. It's so much more catchy. As the books go on they don't have as many funny names nor words but there's still a couple.

5. You'd rather play by ear than bother reading the music
A lot of kids think memorizing is so much work but it actually makes life so much easier! Playing by ear is something you can develop at a younger age and a lot of the time I prefer it to reading music. I don't think you'd meet someone from a public school orchestra who could do that.

6. When you can't resist ending a concert with twinkle theme
Haha old Suzuki traditions...every concert ends with all ages from beginners to graduates playing what every child began with--twinkle twinkle little star.

7. You cram in all your memorizing the day before a concert
Somehow even though we know memorization will be required, we always end up practicing like crazy the day before in order to learn a piece. In fact I need to go practice right now for a recording being made tomorrow. Ahh!

8. You wake up in the middle of the night sweating about messing up a 500 box at a recital
This is when you know you've over-practiced a box. You could probably play it in your sleep but it still plagues you.

9. Comparing life to time signatures. In other words...
4/4 time a.k.a. common time- I'm fine, everything's normal
3/4 time- pretty slow, a bit dull
6/8 time- I'm going crazy!
2/2 time- ehh...

Okay well maybe number nine is going a bit far...I made it up to have another example but the rest are true. And now for a musical verse...
Psalm 101:1
I will sing of steadfast love and justice; to you, O Lord, I will make music.

Well, I'm off to practice.

Kitty Korner

I'll try not to bore you with another entire page on just my cats but once in a while I am going to give the Kitty Korner Update. These won't be on Fridays necessarily, rather whenever I have a funny picture, story, or report to make on my kitties. It just happened to be a post I had ready.

This summer was a major hunting season for my cats. Almost every day they would show up with a decapitated critter hanging from their mouths from little mousey to big bunny, they've caught them all. Just a few weeks ago I was calling out the front door for George to come in, when he jumped out of nowhere up the side of the porch with something tight in his jaws. He was so fast that by the time I realised what was happening he was halfway through the door and as I scrambled to shut it on him he squeezed through. He ran a short way before I grabbed for his middle and he dropped what he'd brought in. I nearly died with exasperation and disgust. It was rabbit legs. Just two of them. Weren't bloody or anything, but I mean! What cat finds two hind legs of a bunny and carries them around? Ugh. I made mum put them out because I couldn't stomach it. As gross as it was, I couldn't stop laughing from the hilarity of that dumb little cat. Something that may have made up for it was a local cute pet contest I was going to enter him in. All I had to do was send in a cute picture but I missed the deadline. Maybe next time. When he isn't catching bunny legs he can be so silly. Like when he was thirsty I turned on the sink for him to drink from the faucet but instead of just putting his tongue in like normal cats, he sticks his whole head under! What a little bumpkin...

On another instance he wasn't so cute. One of his favorite hobbies is bird watching. Every year I grow sunflowers which reach almost two stories high. Well, George loves flowers. He sits under them in the shade and sleeps. So he picked one, literally. I woke up in the morning to find one sunflower had fallen down and another had been snapped from the root and I spied the culprit sitting smugly, almost lazily around underneath. He's ridiculous. The other two haven't exactly been little angels either, they're just not so obvious. Near the end of summer the gold finches come and eat up the seeds. Last year when they were here George leaped from the porch and caught a bird in his gross little mouth. Awful cat. So this time I'm betting something similar occurred.

Surprisingly enough, Lily is the one with the latest adventure. Lily is the little runt, the one that's always begging for food and unlike Fred, she only spends 1-2 nights outside each year on average. I mean barely ever! But on Tuesday of this week I realised she had not come in the night before and I'd not seen her since. I was worried but what could I do? It's just so unlike her to disappear. The next day she was still nowhere to be found and I was getting anxious thinking of all the possible scenarios. No sign of her the next day either. I told my neighbors to keep an eye out for her. Three whole nights she was gone. Three whole nights I felt her absence beside my pillow and no furry face to smother with kisses. Finally yesterday I arrived home to find a note scribbled on the door saying she was back! I went inside and there she was, running down the stairs to me and I swept her into my arms. I'd forgotten how light she was. Complete and seemingly without injury, my little Lily was home at last. I wish I could ask her where she went. So thankful she's back!

Everything has been okay here (especially now with Lily safe). Not great, but bearable. This week is the one where everything else that was off for the summer starts back up and I will be even more busy! I'm not exactly looking forward to it but I think that if I had any more free time than I do now, I might find myself bored. I need to stay doing things or I could end up stuck in the same place forever, lost in my own world of thoughts. This is why I like to make plans. It keeps me focused, able to sit for seven hours every day without talking to anyone. Not real conversations anyway, the occasional hi in the hallway doesn't count. I keep telling myself to look ahead, not dwell too much on worthless worries, and before I know it I'll be home. That will be my advice for the week.
Look ahead, not behind. Praying really helps too. Unceasing, constant prayer has proven my only friend on these seemingly endless school days and it's the only thing keeping me moving along. Something I'm going to try and add is a verse of the week, hopefully relevant to the topic. So here's this weeks':

Always be joyful. Never stop praying. Be thankful in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you who belong to Christ Jesus. (1 Thessalonians 5: 16-18)

That's all I have time for now. Bye and be back next Friday!

How's Life?

This must be one of my least favorite questions ever. It's so packed yet there would never really be time for me to answer with even a hint of truth. We just say good and the conversation moves on...or stops. What did we accomplish? Nothing, it was a waste of breath. So I'm going to give a run down of exactly what goes through my mind every time I'm posed the "how's life?" along with a few other annoying ones.

First of all, this is usually a go-to question when you're standing around with a person you don't know very well and have nothing else to say. Except it never triggers anything new to talk about so it makes it all the more awkward. For most, "good" is the automatic reply. The fact is, even if I was feeling differently, I wouldn't likely tell the person because I don't normally go telling random people about my troubles besides which it wouldn't make any difference. This is meant in the nicest way possible because I'm sure I do the same. I just mean that we have a natural tendency to think about ourselves and aren't likely to care deeply for someone you talk to for five minutes. Life moves on and you forget you ever spoke to them. It's like that with all small talk and that's why I shy away from it.
"What's up?"
"Nothing much."
"How are you?"
"Good."
And the worst one yet...
"How's school?"
"Fine."
It's common courtesy to answer like this even if it's not true. The second one is actually the most annoying for me. Most of the time no one really wants to know how you're feeling and might even feel a little miffed they ever asked if you complain to them. How would you react if I said horrible? What if my cat died and I don't want to talk about it? There are hundreds of things that go wrong every day and very few go by that I'd truly call a "good" day. To me it's just become a meaningless phrase to be thrown around, something to ignore because everyone asks it. But there are still ways to make it meaningful if it's asked in the proper way. Here are some I could think of:

1. Do you really have time to listen?
A common use of it is as you pass someone in the hall at school. I can generally avoid answering by just smiling at them and they won't even care that I didn't reply. Seriously, if you genuinely care about the response, ask it some other time where the only possible answer that can fit in the given time isn't "good."

2. Are you truly interested?
Are you just nodding your head and pretending to listen while really thinking about how you wish you were at home texting your friends? Or are you looking for possible signs of hurt or longing that the person is trapped behind. They might be in desperate need of someone to talk to. I can tell a fake when I see one.

3. Will you remember?
Will you pray for the person? Maybe ask them about it later? It would make it that much more meaningful.

I know that people are only trying to be polite but when it comes down to it, personally I think I'd rather not be asked at all. Sometimes it even leaves me feeling worse. This is coming from someone who had to lie about it every day of her life. I'd think about it a long time afterwards, wondering what would happen if I was truthful. What if I told them, you know what? I have a verbally abusive father at home, I haven't spoken a word all day at school, I lost my favorite pen, and I'm honestly feeling terrible. What then? The one person who asked it of me every day happened to be the one who never listened--my father. He'd ask how school was and though I said "horrid" and "awful" he barely noticed. He'd say "good, good" while riffling through some papers. The occasional time he appeared to have heard and ventured to ask why it was bad, he didn't bother to listen to the explanation. It merely amused him and I was never taken seriously.

Was this a worthwhile post? Probably not. Will it still be a question everyone uses? Undoubtedly. It's not like it mortally offends me, I simply wanted to show the shallowness behind it. So that next time you're about to ask it, you might think twice and try to think of something else...something a little more answerable.

El Sistema: How Music Saved Lives

I know I kinda left everyone hanging last week about what I was so excited about because I had to leave for my orchestra fall camp, but I'm back now. It was pretty fun and I'm looking forward to the whole season. This years theme is "the genius of Shakespeare" so besides learning music, some of which is from Hamlet, we will be studying, analyzing, and memorizing a little bit of Shakespeare. Eek!

Now I'll let you in on my revelation. It seems as if lately all my friends have been traveling out of the country, something I've always wanted to do. For example, an eight year old in my German class went to Germany this summer by HIMSELF, one of my sisters has been to England, and the other to Costa Rica. So I'm feeling a little left behind...next time take me with! Last missions Sunday at church focused in on jobs out of the country. They basically said do whatever you like, except do it somewhere else. If you want to be a plumber, be a plumber but go do it in Europe or something. Now I don't want to be a plumber, but I think I've found something just right for me and it's so funny I've only just realised it because I heard about it months ago and it never occurred to me that it would be something I might like to do.

For a while now my viola teacher has been hinting at what a good music teacher I'd make but I mostly laughed at it. Me a teacher? Forget it, I thought. Yet here I am, thinking it would be awesome. I don't know if you got the chance to watch the documentary link from my last post, if you haven't I'd suggest doing that before continuing. I first heard about El Sistema from my viola teacher when she picked me up from the airport (I was coming back alone from vacation in order to get to my orchestra concert!), sometime in June I think. She brought me out to lunch and showed me this book she'd just gotten- "Changing Lives: Gustavo Dudamel, El Sistema, and the Transformative Power of Music."
 She seemed pretty excited so I feigned interest and skimmed through the pictures while she chatted away happily about how it began, how it worked, and her dream for its spreading. It was actually pretty intriguing, though not nearly as much as now as I consider what it would like to be a part of it. Basically there was this music program started in Venezuela for children in poverty which would hopefully keep them off the streets and give them a future. Then one of the kids that went through the program became the conductor of it and somehow made it famous, or perhaps that came with the publishing of the book. You can tell I haven't exactly researched this...go watch the video.
Either way, it is a very successful program. The kids have rehearsals six days a week 3-4 hours per day. This means it takes up almost the entire day if you count in the fact that this all happens after school. And it's completely free! They can start as young as 3 and as they get older and join the youth orchestra they are even payed so they don't have to quit in order to get a job to help the family. For many it's probably the only income they have.

So what got me pumped is that it's starting point was Venezuela. And it's still spreading--including to England. So  last week I made the connection. What if I was a music teacher, but somewhere in need? I would so be willing to do that. I guess I was waiting for something that was really abstract I could do because I didn't want to get stuck here all my life doing what the majority of kids in the states do: go to college, end up with a lot of debt, and be forced to get a job you don't want in order to pay it off. But let's face it, music is really one of the only things I'm okay at. Sure I do a whole lot of other things but my world really revolves around rehearsals, lessons, concerts, and music in general. Why waste it? This is a chance to take what I love and be able to combine it with places I love. I couldn't have planned it better myself.

You needn't burst my bubble by telling me this is highly unlikely. Obviously it could be way off track of where I'll really be within the next few years but I can always dream. If I could plan it all out I would go study this program directly where it began in Venezuela over the summer so I could see how it is run and then I would go teach with the one in England. This is something I really want to be a part of. South America here I come!

Updates

Today I leave for two days to go on the fall kick-off retreat for Elgin Youth Symphony. So I was scrambling through some topics I've been wanting to post on when I realised, none of them are ready and I need more time to finish them. There is so much going on with school starting and everything that I just haven't had the time to get all my thoughts together. To begin with, I'm not sure how I will be keeping up with my blog but I'm going to try really hard because this is about the only things that has kept me writing lately and it's so helpful for me. No matter if it's a really short topic, I will write something.

Um let's see...blah! Summer is over and school started Wednesday. Wasn't great but it will be okay. Some teachers seem like they will be fun, none too terrible. In chemistry however, the girl on my right did nothing but complain. I'm serious-she said nothing positive. I won't nag but I was thinking boy, either you think people enjoy listening to you or you're just naturally very ungrateful. It was tiring to listen to. Then at lunch the only people I knew were all the popular kids and I wasn't about to invite myself with them so I sat with a little girl wearing a hijab. I thought she was alone but little by little the table filled. Her friend came and mostly everyone just spoke with the person next to them. I was miserable. Not lonely, just frustrated that I would be stuck there for a whole semester. That was probably the hardest part. How was your first day?

The good thing is that I had youth group that night and it was so fun =P. It's refreshing after a day of being around people who do nothing but complain about their lives and also to finally stop pretending to be someone I'm not. Well not as much anyways. All the leaders are great and the kids are nice too. You can't imagine how nice it is to be somewhere that you feel appreciated. My small group leaders from last year all left for various reasons and I will sorely miss them but it will be interesting to meet some new ones. I'm really looking forward to HYACKs this year!

When I get back there is something I'm dying to tell someone about! Just as a sneak peak, it's got to do with El Sistema. You probably don't know what that is but if you'd like to look it up there is a documentary on youtube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=43tqQhOTCgQ. I think I've finally found out what I want to do when I'm done with school! More on this later.

Sorry this is all over the place. It wasn't planned and revised as my other posts have been. Can you tell I was hurried? Anyway, lots of exciting news to come. When I get back I'll tell you how it went. Fingers crossed for first chair. =P

Stay strong my friends, be brave, and have faith! 

Green Lake

This summer I was lucky enough to get the chance to visit Green Lake, (not to be confused with Blue Lake- the music camp I went to), because my oldest brother was being deployed to Korea for a year and I was there to see him off. It is in fact the same place that he was married at. Okay so usually I don't really like camping, especially seeing as it was just me and my mum, but despite the tent made for either one person (or for a couple?) it wasn't so bad. In fact, I found myself alone much of the time which is surprisingly hard to come by. I also got to see my niece which was worth it because she'd just started walking and she's pretty cute! During the day we went to the craft place and painted. I finished two little bunnies that I put in my garden. Then in the evening we visited with my brother, niece, and sister-in-law. We stayed about four days but funnily enough, what I enjoyed the most was exploring alone.

There was a huge field, over 20 acres, all covered in prairie grass and wild flowers right by our campsite. As I was wandering along beside it I realised that there was a  path mowed through the middle! I decided to follow it and see where it went. Before long I got rather hot so when I came to one of the few trees in the field I sat down underneath and did my Bible reading. It was so nice and I felt as if I were the only one for miles around. Eventually I continued down the path until I got to where I figured the middle was. There were a few other paths but I knew the one that would bring me almost right to my camp site so, happy to have found a place of my own, I ran all the way back thinking as I did so that I would be back very soon. When I first got the chance I made an excuse saying I was going to go practice my viola and I ran off. I chose my practice spot carefully, ending up somewhere near the middle and behind a clump of tall plants so no one could see me.

At first I was a little nervous because, though I was quite a ways in I could still see people on the dirt road every so often and I didn't want to draw attention. I started out quietly. Gradually however, I had a need to fill the air with music and I built up to the loudest I could go. I forgot about my worries and just played to my hearts content. I felt completely alone and I was happy. I practiced until the sun went down and then I realised I'd have to remember my way in the dark. I thought I'd been careful in placing my case down the path that would bring me back but I must have gotten mixed up. I began trudging down the one I believed to lead back but turned around when I came to a clump of trees I didn't recognise. Not at all discouraged, I went back to where I started and, feeling sure I was correct this time, tried that one. Well, I went all the way before I saw it ended in the running path before I turned back for the second time. I was getting tired by then because my 20 pound viola case (it was a loaner, made of metal so one could throw it down a staircase without hurting the instrument) weighing me down. I probably took about two more wrong turns, one of which took fifteen minutes to correct. As I walked I got a bit frightened as one does at night when they're alone. By then the only light left was whatever the moon provided so of course the rustling in the bushes was the boogie man out to get me, not a common forest animal. There were a few instances I ran- both to hurry it up, and once because I was scared of the shrubs. After trying what seemed like all the possible routes and after my arm seemed as if it might fall off, I finally ended up on the correct one which I should have known all along because of the office light. A bit relieved but already laughing at myself I found mum waiting by the camp fire. I told her I got lost and she, not being the worrying type, said she wondered if I might and didn't question me further. I asked if she had heard me and I was surprised when she said not at all. This was confirmed the following day when I got back from practicing and my family informed me that they had been on a walk and would have invited me along but they couldn't find me. They knew I was in the field but couldn't hear me. They went up in a tower to look from above, but they couldn't see me. I was completely hidden from everyone.

On a separate occasion the next day I went back (now not labored with my case) to explore some of the other paths. I could hop, skip, and dance as I pleased, and sing as loud as I liked, knowing no one would hear or see me. I ran as fast as I could until I was completely winded. It was the first time I felt free in a long time. I went everywhere and when I got bored, found the tower that the others had looked for me from earlier. I climbed up and stayed for a long time writing, thinking, and enjoying the beauty of it all. Finally the sun was setting and, not wanting to repeat the same mistake twice, took off sprinting back to the tent.

There were other moments I enjoyed, like reading in the little chapel, and wandering through the gardens looking for the camp cat, but none were as peaceful nor as special as my field. And yes, the paths were mowed intentionally; there were signs up to show what kind of plants grew so I know that it was meant as a nature trail. But since I was the only one who used it (except for one family who didn't linger) I call it my field and I will always go back there, every time I visit. I have some pictures I was going to post, but I've had trouble uploading them so that will have to wait for later in the week.