Killer Heels

I have some sort of awful disorder that attracts me to the mall every weekend. Fear not, for I do not always purchase something and I tend to not be a compulsive buyer. For me, shopping is a time to get together, talk, have lunch, and walk around for a few hours.

I did, however, buy my first pair of casual heels (and got to wear them the following day to dinner). They're black, cute, and have "Dani" written all over them. While Paige and I were shopping, I stumbled across a revelation: shoes are like sin. I am pretty sure I am not the first female to realize that there are possible negative side effects to shoe shopping, but this intrigued me.

1. It takes a while to get comfortable in a new pair of shoes.

When I was a kid, my momma never let me wear my new school clothes early - except for shoes. My brother and I got to don our new, shiny white kicks around the house the week before classes started, just to "break them in". Sometimes I wonder though if this was nothing more than one of her "mom tactics" to keep my brother and I content and quiet. Either way, the shoes were more comfortable the following week and led to a blister-free Monday. Similarly, sins always become easier and easier to commit. Initially, we are simply tempted to do wrong, but eventually, the acts become habit; we settle into them like an old winter coat - or a dirty pair of Nikes. Soon, we can slip the sneakers on and off without undoing the laces, much like we can lie or steal without second thoughts.

2. We suffer for beauty.

I think I tried on every single heel of mild interest in the mall. At least once. I am a picky girl; in order to make a purchase something, it needs to scream for me to take it home. I tried on some shoes and instantly knowing without fully sticking my foot in that they were not a good choice. Likewise, although all sins are equal, I look at some actions and think "How could anyone ever do that?" I blatantly know that it is not a good choice and have no desire to pursue it; the shoe does not even make it completely on my foot. Other shoes have a slight pain, but are cute; I find myself weighing out the options of whether or not I want bunions or an adorable set of kicks... or if I am willing to handle the guilt and repercussions in exchange for a high school party.

3. Heels kill.

While we are on the topic of painful shoes, let's all agree that heels kill. They're painful. They're wretched. But they're oh-so-cute (and make your calves look fabulous)! It's only a matter of minutes after girls walk into the atrium at Homecoming that they're stripping off their strappy heels, exposing their poor footsies to the bacteria-laden gym floor. If you're like me, you have a terrible phobia of germs and will grimace through the pain for the sake of your mental state of mind. At the end of the night, when you finally have the satisfaction of releasing your imprisoned feet, it is a mixture of both pain and relief. Similarly, sin hurts. No matter how comfortable you are, you will still feel guilt. That nagging Holy Spirit is going to be tugging at your heart strings as much as allowed. When you finally repent though, the feeling is bittersweet. You're left with mixed emotions of both shame and the amazing liberation that only Jesus can bring.

4. Shoes are expensive.

I, as a high school babysitter, cannot justify a $90 pair of shoes, much to the frustration of Paige. I will search high and low to get the best bang for my buck; I will average cost, appearance, and quality to meet my standards and capabilities. You better believe it, they're probably going to be on sale. It's really quite a process to make sure that my feet have a good dose of cuteness attached to them. Sin costs us our life; there is no Black Friday Sale to somehow make the consequences null. Likewise, we rationalize our sin and we go to great efforts to cover it. It is hard work to justify a deed that hammers a hand through a nail; it's not easy to hide a murder. It's a great scavenger hunt of lies to ourself and friends to avoid confrontation with our sin.

5. If the shoes hurt at all in the store, they'll hurt much worse at home.

In the event I am able to justify why I need this expensive or pinching pair of shoes, they will usually end up in the back of my closet or handed off to someone else. I am not sure what goes through my mind every time that tells me that these shoes will be different and will magically change shape. Likewise, sin is sin is sin. There's no grey area. The shoes may be pretty in the store and our sin may be covered up as something great - a charity organization for monetary gain, volunteer work done for attention. However, the sin will be sin and the shoes will still hurt. At some point, you will have to face Jesus when you go home.

So there it is, Paige, the parallels between shoes and sin. Happy shopping (:

New Threats to Freedom Essay Scholarship

Strength comes from struggles. I have matured more during high school than my entire life combined. When my mother left, I became “mini-mom”, forced to develop necessary skills. After my father left and I was sent to live with another family, I had to wrestle through those emotions. I grew up, I became responsible. I would not wish that suffering on my worst enemy, but I would not trade, either. It created Dani – living, smiling, and mature.

I am part of Fuel Student Leadership Team. We are given the opportunity to not only succeed with excellence, but also to fail and feel defeat. While we are provided with guidance, our team is also given freedom to make mistakes – and learn accordingly. The taste of setbacks makes the victory much sweeter; reflection of all the obstacles that had to be overcome to achieve our goals makes us that much more grateful. Our greatest success comes from the meetings that begin with arguing and end in negotiation. Our leadership skills are developed when we are faced with real-world opposition; I can read about great leaders and gain little, but am able to apply and strengthen principles like “Leaders face opposition with integrity” when I am challenged with rebounding from a mistake.

I firmly believe that our greatest growth comes through suffering. While I do not think we should purposefully create conflict, it is only when I am faced with opposition that I decide what is important. Extreme situations bring out truth and movement in people. If Wilfred Owen had never suffered war, he would have never produced raw poetry. When we are faced with our demons, we learn how to fight them. Too often though, we are enabled; we are sheltered from anything negative, which ironically cripples us rather than protects us. I grew up in a home where nothing was asked of me; I found myself at fourteen completely ignorant to domestic work. Nobody had ever argued with me to clean the bathroom or patiently rebuked me until I was proficient with a stove.

Michael Goodwin argues in his video that our culture is inflicted with “entitlement mania”; we have a mindset that tells us that we are not responsible for our actions. This is incredibly dangerous. Invincibility or the “Superhero Complex” causes people to behave rashly; the thought process shifts to “Ready? Fire! Aim.” I believe that overprotection can at times be worse than vulnerability. It pains a parent for them to watch their child struggle, but experience is also the best lesson. People almost always rise to their expectations. It is when we demand too little and give too much that people become ungrateful, manipulative, and fail to thrive.

My Jesus tells me that we are to “count it all joy”; suffering is merely developing perseverance (James 1:2-5). Pain is our greatest teacher. It is only in the midst of opposition that we find what we are truly made of. That’s freedom – to be and to find the true “you”.

Vanity Affair

There's an Old Lie that floats around in everybody's head. It says that you're worthless, incompetent; it robs you of the hope and future that God promised. Satan starts by simply whispering it into our ears, but if permitted, he'll scream at you until the Lie is beating against the walls of our heads.

I watched the new The Chronicles of Narnia: Voyage of the Dawn Treader last week - I strongly recommend that you head run to your nearest theatre with all of your friends in tow and see it. The plot dealt with the presence and consequences of temptation in our lives. All of the characters had at least one obvious sin that they struggled with, ranging from laziness to lust.

I usually watch movies impersonally; I don't connect with characters or get emotional, but in this film, I definitely identified with Lucy. Typically, she's the image of child-like faith, appropriately appointed for her young age; she's usually the first of the siblings to remind the group to remember Aslan and press on in their search for Him. The setting intercepts with Lucy's coming of age, providing a shift from the child content with herself to the young woman insecure with her appearance and abilities (dynamic character!). For the first time, we see her interested in males and making obvious gestures that insult both her intelligence and physical attributes. Lucy makes it clear to the audience, and eventually to her friends, that she feels inferior to her successful and gorgeous sister, Susan.

Lucy, like me, is an explorer and a bit naive. After being abducted by some odd creatures who desperately want to be cured from a curse, she agrees to help them reverse the spell by entering a strange mansion in the middle of nowhere. She finds the Book of Incantations, and begins flipping through it, attempting to find the rhyme that will cure the creatures of their disorder. She decides to test the waters, and makes the library snow. Delighted, she decides to further push her boundaries with danger (oh, how we're never satisfied). It begins innocently enough, but all the while, green fog representing sin is sneaking into the room as she is completely distracted with her new delight.

I like the use of green fog to symbolize sin for several reasons. One, the fog sneaks into the settings unknown by the characters. Satan never comes in through our front doors; Peter compares him to a lion, sneaking around in the shadows (1 Peter 5:8). Secondly, I like that Lewis used fog. We can see through fog like we can see through sin. No matter how hard we try, our sin will always eventually become evident to others, and no matter how awful we are, Jesus will always see the true You. I also love the fact that the color green was used; green is typically associated with goodness, happiness, and acceptance or permission to continue. It shows the illusion that sin presents to us during temptation. Like sin, fog is also short lived; all it takes is a little heat, a little perseverance and a little Jesus, to melt away the clouds.

While the fog is seeping into the library, Lucy stumbles across a page of incantations that promises to make her the most beautiful woman in all the land. She begins to recite the spell, and watches her face morph into the shape of her darling sister's. The room shakes; she knows she's done wrong, and becomes fearful - but the pleasure is too great. She decides to rip out the page and save it for later, continuing to search for the appropriate spell to help her new friends outside.

Later comes a scene that really hit me - it's one of maybe three that have ever made my eyes well up out of all the movies I've ever seen. Lucy lies in bed, wrestling with her demons alone in the dark; next to her is a little girl, completely unaware of the struggle Lucy is facing. Lucy pulls the paper from the spell book out of her night gown and climbs out of bed, tip-toeing in the dark so that nobody will catch her. She's obviously aware that her actions are inappropriate and would be disapproved of; she doesn't care though, and will go to extents to hide her intentions. She arrives to the mirror and whispers the incantation to herself, then waits as her body again morphs into the figure of her sister. I think at this point she felt some anxiety; the green fog enters through the cracks in the walls, the setting is spooky, but I think the potential benefits of this spell outweighed any risks she was assessing at the time.

Suddenly, in a whirlwind, she is whisked away into another time. She is elegantly dressed as her sister at a party; the crowd moves for her, complimenting her appearance. A photographer asks to take her picture; she's absolutely delighted and pleased with herself. Her brothers arrive, excited to take a picture of the "three children" for their mother. One of them refers to her as Susan; she laughs at them and says her name is Lucy. The brothers laugh back and say she's crazy - they don't know a Lucy, her name is Susan. She suddenly becomes aware that she no longer exists. Panicking, she cries out to be returned to the ship, to become Lucy again. The real Lucy is gone. She has been given exactly what she wanted, to become her sister. She's beautiful now, but at the expense of her life and her character.

Lucy returns to real time and finds Aslan staring back at her in the mirror. The two people she can't hide from are staring her back in the face simultaneously - God and herself. This is the most crucial moment of the scene. For me, this would be the point where my emotions would have shifted from panic to shame. Here Jesus is, standing next to me, facing me and my sin. Essentially, Lucy inadvertently said to God "You and Your Creation is not enough for me," and now she has either two choices - to say it to His face, or to admit her fault and address it accordingly. I can't and don't want to count the number of times I've communicated this to God. I, like Lucy, realized that my actions were wrong. The Holy Spirit yelled at me, but it felt like the Old Lie was screaming louder; at the time, the benefits outweighed the costs. When we give in to temptation, everything is upside down; nothing is sound.

Sobbing, Lucy cries out to Aslan, pleading for Him to make everything alright. Innocently, she claims she never wanted things to end up that way - she simply wanted to be beautiful. How often do we find ourselves in this position - desperate to be freed, finding the only way out to be in the hands of God. Aslan tells her that in order to be something she's not, Lucy must sell herself; essentially, she has to die for her sin. He gently admonishes her, saying "Don't doubt your value; don't run from who you are." Through this, He reminds Lucy that she is everything He ever wanted her to be. The Old Lie is just that - a lie. He never saw her as inadequate. He never saw her as ugly. He saw her as "wonderfully and fearfully made," a creation from His hands (Psalm 139:14). She's valuable - He has a purpose for her, perfectly complimentary to her design. He soothes her, as any good Father would, and sends her to bed, though she is unable to sleep. Whenever we are faced with our sin though, we are still faced with some guilt and shame for a short time; we have to deal with our emotions and work through forgiveness of the most difficult person - ourselves. Lucy gave up a few moments of her life to become what she thought was perfection. I gave up a lot more.

I like how this scene deals with multiple sins at once, and then concludes with love and forgiveness (but that's another blog for another day). God tells us very specifically that we are not to dabble in witchcraft of any kind (Galatians 5:19-21). Secondly, vanity leads to a whole slew of sins. It leads to pride and self worship, self condemnation and self deception. God addresses the concept of beauty several times in the Bible; I'm not sure that Jesus ever felt that He wasn't skinny enough or His boobs were too small, but He does know that it's a hot topic among His daughters and I'm sure there had to be a point where He felt some sort of inadequacy.

God tells us that appearance doesn't matter - it's short lived. Rather, fearing God is worthy of admiration (Proverbs 31:30).

He says that those who bring peace, the Gospel, and goodness are beautiful (Isaiah 52:7).

He tells us exactly how we are to dress - modestly and adorning ourself with good deeds, worshiping God, not our bodies (1 Timothy 2:9-10).

It didn't take long for Lucy to recognize her sin and respond to the Holy Spirit. For the first portion of the movie, she let Satan whisper the Old Lie into her ears. She didn't catch it immediately, and soon, it penetrated her heart. She allowed Satan to scream louder than God - possibly the most dangerous action any of us can make. Thankfully, we all have an Aslan to look us in the eye and speak truth into our lives.

When God Gets Sassy

A good friend of mine, Kaitlin, described Taylor Swift's new album, Speak Now, as being sassy towards her ex-boyfriends.

A student in my English class, Rami, argued that Shakespeare's Hamlet is a sassy character towards his whore mother and selfish murderer of a father / uncle (because it's not a good Shakespeare tragedy without some death, incest, complicated romantic relationships, and political overthrow).

This is probably one of my favorite yet neglected adjectives. Sassiness implies an element of attitude, some comic relief, and boldness. I think sassy comments essentially say "It may not be politically correct for me to say this to you... It may not even be nice... But I've got all these emotions running around, and I'm going to tell you exactly what I think." Although it can be used in a negative context, I think it also requires a degree of honesty. It necessitates that the speaker confidently states his claim without hesitation.

We like to describe God by warm adjectives - loving, caring, merciful. Sometimes we get daring and address His stern attributes - just, jealous, angry, fearful. I often see (and am slightly annoyed by) lofty terms that are ambiguous (perhaps fittingly, considering God cannot be understood) like "God is amazing, huge, awesome". But I think there's another series of controversial characteristics that we see displayed and yet we don't seem to approach very often. My God is clever. He has quite the sense of humor. And yes - He's even sassy.

I think we see this happen more than once in Scripture. In John 4, we see the woman at the well. When Jesus tells her to bring her husband back (Daddy always wants to meet his daughter's new boy, right?), she claims that she has no husband. In verse 17-18 He replies with "You are right when you say you have no husband. The fact is, you have had five husbands, and the man you now have is not our husband. What you have just said is quite true."

What do you do with that response? A strange man you just met moments ago is telling you not just your life story, but your deepest secrets - and you have nothing to deny it with. Oh, and by the way, it's the Messiah. You know, God-man, man-God, three-in-one, one-in-three. I imagine Him saying it with a very straight face, a matter-of-fact tone, and a little head nod at the end. I think her response is even funnier - she proceeds to claim that he must be a prophet and gives him a lesson in worship. Oh sweetie, dream big - if only you knew. I imagine her saying all of this as confidently as she can, despite the fact that she's about to wet herself. I think she would be tugging on her dress or twirling her hair, maybe frantically trying to find a way out of there. If I was the woman, I'd probably drop my jaw and want to cry, completely speechless.

If I was watching, I'd probably laugh and be glad that wasn't me. The thing is though, it often is Dani standing at the well with a bucket of sin on her hip, sputtering and making excuses. Sometimes (okay, more realistically, often), God needs to call me out on my junk. I know I can't deceive God, but I often lie to myself - I'm not only a persuasive person, but also rather gullible, which makes for an awful mix. I come up with all sorts of misconstrued logic chains in a pitiful attempt to justify my sin - but it always ends up the same. The Holy Spirit will whisper to me at first that I've done wrong and need to deal with it accordingly. Then as my demons become louder, the Holy Spirit will start screaming at me to listen and respond. I think conviction is a good thing, because at the end of the day, when I'm lying in my bed, I need to know what I've done and the subsequent consequences. I need to be aware of and believe truth. I know there's nothing I can do to retract my actions or my thoughts; although I may be able to hide my transgressions from man, I will always address to the only One who sees right through my invalid arguments and false self-witnessing.

Super Zeus? (:

I was reading Judges 10 the other day, and began to laugh to myself when I tried to picture the situation happening.

So here are the Israelites, again having forsaken their God (the repetitive theme of the Old Testament - and yet He continues to reach out to us over and over again... sacrificing His Son... saving us... but that's another blog for another day). I'm not sure what they saw in these Pagan gods; but then again, sometimes I am no more faithful and find myself surrounded by idols that I have put in priority. Maybe God didn't answer their prayers in the way they wanted or anticipated and they lost faith or became bitter. Maybe they felt inadequate or ashamed. Maybe they saw something else shining in the corner and got distracted. Maybe they believed the Old Lie and let Satan get the best of them. I like how Revelation 2:4 accuses us of having forsaken our first love - we forget time and time again all of the great things Yahweh has done for us. We love Him, yes, but we still leave Him anyway. Why do we do what we do? But I'm digressing...

Anyway, back to the story. So the Israelites deny God yet again and become idolaters. God knows (time tested and approved) that His people always come running back when the going gets rough. When we think we can do it all we lose our neediness and our trust - how ignorant of us to believe ourselves to be more powerful? God knows that when we are weakest there are two truths: First, that He is strong and we will admire that power. Or secondly, that we are in need of a Saviour and need help. Either way, we will come running back with humbled, receptive hearts. God becomes angry with the Israelites (although by this time, I wouldn't blame Him if He got a bit annoyed, too) and decides to show them who's boss and that they aren't as strong as they perceive themselves to be by feeding them into the hands of their enemies.

This is the point where I wonder "Will we ever learn?" and "I wonder how many times the Bible tells this same plot?" I'm guessing that it's of some importance.

As we all do, the Israelites came crying back to God, begging at His feet to rescue them. I do think that they were legitimately terrified, and I wonder how desperate they were before they mustered the nerve to return to the same One they had insulted so many times before. It's no different than screaming at your boss, teacher, the associate over the phone, whoever, that they are worthless and have no clue what they are talking about when they warn you against an action that could severely maim your life - then the consequences being fulfilled, and you having to return with the request of a pardon and help fixing it. That takes some guts. God owed them no favors, however, and apparently didn't think they had learned their lesson.

This is my favorite part, where God essentially tells them "Let me know you how much of a fool you are." As the Israelites are begging to be rescued, God states (if it were me, I'd be rather sarcastic and wear a smirk) "When your enemies were beating on you and you asked me to help, did I not save you before (paraphrased)? But you have forsaken me and served other gods, so I will no longer save you. Go and cry out to the gods you have chosen! Let them save you when you are in trouble!"

First of all, that's a rough line to hear on the receiving end. God's ticked. He's annoyed. He's fed up with the Israelites and their games. It's never a good day when the Creator of the Heavens and the Earth is irritated with you and your shenanigans. Secondly, those lines just make me laugh; God just got sassy with the Israelites. He told them what's up and who's boss. God essentially says "You want it your way? Okay. Have it!" He's not interested in playing games anymore - at some point, they will realize that there is no way they can win.

What I love even more though, is the next few lines. I would be disgustingly ashamed at this point, but the Israelites continue to beg. Either they're seriously desperate or they're excessively bold. They again admit they have sinned - except this time they relinquish control to God. They tell Him that He can do whatever He wants to with them. That's an intimidating offer that requires mass quantities of trust. God knows what He's doing and He knows the heart of the matter despite what our words say. Had they not totally given up control before? Were they just waiting for God to free them so they could go back to their pagan lifestyle? If that's the case, then I don't think they could be classified as being "desperate"... perhaps "tired" is a better word.

After they had confessed their sin and given control rightfully back to God, the Israelites then removed the sin from their lives. They stripped away all of the pagan idols. After they had cleaned themselves up, they began to serve the Lord before He even began to act. That's trust. They realized they were wrong. They gave up control and asked for help. They removed their temptations. They served God. And then "... He could bear Israel's misery no longer."

Let that marinate for a minute.

How desperate the Israelites must have been to achieve all of this. It was only until after they had completed all of those steps that God decided to step in, that they were serious enough. I love how God displays His compassion here; the pain the Israelite's felt also radiated through their Creator. The One that formed the sun and the moon and the stars with His own breath and never once was weakened by temptation felt empathy towards a group of simple people that couldn't make it more than a few minutes without insulting Him. He never forsakes His people - but rather, leaves us alone for a time to face our demons until we're ready to fully commit to a change.

I'm pretty sure God's got it all figured out.

Thornland

I can't keep plants alive to safe my life (pun!). I tried to start a balcony garden when I lived at the condo; within a couple of weeks, I was forced to close the curtains when people came over to shelter myself from the embarrassment of pots of mud and brown crumbly foliage. I had a cactus when I was younger, and it's been my only successful plant to date.

With that said, I have become acutely aware of the consequences of sin and the destructive force that it has in all of the facets of our being. A little sin goes a long way like yeast in a loaf of bread or a stain on a favorite sweater... or weeds in a garden.

I found this chart online (so it must be accurate) and was amazed at the power weeds have on other plants. Weeds are interspecific exploitation competitors to the native species. For all you kids out there that didn't choose to take three sciences in one year, that means that weeds limit the resources of and are a completely different species from the ones they compete with. A rosebush doesn't have enough mineral ions or water because there's thistles sucking up all the nutrients. An oak seedling can't grow because there's a giant dandelion casting a shadow on its photoreceptors. Vines wrap around a bed of sunflowers and choke them, prohibiting the movement of material through xylem and phloem. Vegetables can be over 1700% more bountiful when they are weeded. When somebody takes the time to invest in their growth, the plants explode in produce. It takes effort, but the benefits are evident and amazing.

I don't think I am unlike a garden; God compares us and our relationship to it often. I think it's undeniable the extent of the connection that we have to it. Gardens are a symbol of creation; they're constantly growing and producing. They suffer times of drought or dormancy but always return with new life in the spring. They are diverse and unique; no two gardens are exactly alike. Sometimes, life is created for the first time (primary succession) and sometimes, life returns after a period of destruction (secondary succession). We see the self-containment of gardens expressed through terrariums; the environment is self-sustaining and needs nothing more than itself to flourish. God first put us in a garden so that we would prosper and promises the return of one.

We all know that plants typically thrive if four main things are present: water, sunlight, air, and dirt.

A plant without water will not survive, but Jesus is the living water to sustain us (John 4:14).

God breathed into man, giving them life (Genesis 1:7).

We come from dirt (Genesis 1:7), made to cultivate the land for His use and His purpose (Genesis 2:5, John 15:8).

Jesus is the light that gives us life (John 1:4).

Plants can't function if they lack even one of these resources (with the exception of dirt in some cases - but that's quite the explanation). Interestingly, all of these factors point back to God... No matter which element is missing, it will always create a gap between you and God and strip you of life. Your garden will not flourish. It won't even bloom.

He also teaches us that He is the gardener, constantly pruning us and tending to our needy selves (James 1:2-5, John 15:1-2). He points out that we have no chance of producing fruit unless we remain in Him (John 15:5, 8).

God makes it perfectly clear what our "fruits" are and what our weeds are (Gal 4:19-23).

Sexual immorality Hatred Dissensions

Impurity Discord Factions

Debauchery Jealousy Envy

Idolatry Fits of rage Drunkenness

Witchcraft Selfish ambition Orgies

Love Patience Faithfulness

Joy Kindness Gentleness

Peace Goodness Self-control

It's worthy of noting how many more weeds there are than fruits; it's so much easier to be evil. Temptation is abundant and bad seeds are going to land in our garden, but it's a question of whether or not we are going to let them take us over. It takes so much less effort to not prune away or sin or fertilize our lives. I can easily leave my bible in my car for a week; reading it actually takes action. It's convenient to leave homework until Sunday or to go to sleep without praying. It takes no extra effort. It's easy to give in to temptation; it doesn't require a fight. When we allow habitual sin into our lives, we essentially are saying to Satan "Go ahead. Steal my nutrients. Choke me. Cast shadows over me. Kill my garden. Destroy my fruits." The Gardener is willing to cut off our dead leaves, tie our weak branches to crutches, and till our soil; the process can be painful, but the bounty is good.

Sometimes its hard to tell the difference between weed flower and fruitful flower. Sin seeps into our lives; dandelion seeds gently float into our soil and take hold, quickly reproducing. From my own experiences, having a healthy desire exercise more can quickly turn into a disorder. A generous heart can lead to comparing oneself to others. Opportunities can morph into pride. We must immediately nip the problem in the bud; it takes time and effort to nurture each individual flower.

All good botanists know that one single weed can destroy an entire environment. It can completely take over the area (competition!). I don't think I'm guilty of all of the transgressions on the list. I'm not a fan of orgies or drunkenness, but I do know that there are some definite things in my life that are choking me. Jealousy? Dissension? Even fits of rage? Yep, I'm guilty of temper tantrums, coveting relationships, and arguing. Being made in the image of and filled with Jesus, I know that I can't be completely void of goodness, though. I'm faithful to my beliefs and the people I love. I'm working on my self control (aka "filtering"). But even the tallest, most beautiful lily becomes worthless when it's choked by a vine. I find it hard to love others because I am choked with anger and bitterness. I struggle with trust because anxiety is sapping me of my energy. Sometimes I can't find it within me to be kind or gentle because I'm having a hissy fit or being impatient. One weed kills the whole garden. Not only is my anger going to tear apart my ability to love, but also every other aspect of my life. Encouragement is awkward, faith is shrouded, trust is non-existent, and goodness is not seen when I'm filled with anger or rage. It sucks me of my life and my ability to create. How much more fruit could I produce if I weeded my garden? How much more could I serve God and serve His people? How much farther along would the Kingdom be if the Church cultivated their land more than once a week?

“This garden is your soul. This mess is you! Together, you and I, we have been working with a purpose in your heart. And it is wild and beautiful and perfectly in process. To you it seems like a mess, but I see a perfect pattern emerging and growing and alive – a living fractal.”

The Shack W. P Young

Young agrees that we are a garden and yet a beautiful disaster. It's a slow cultivation to go from a seed without festering life to a manipulable sapling to an enduring redwood. It takes years of patience and hard work to expand from a single rose bush to an entire greenhouse of diverse species. From a distance, a garden can look like a mess of shapes and colors. I think some of the most beautiful landscapes aren't the ones that have every plant in a neat row, perfectly sculpted into an exact shape. Instead, the plants are wild and free to grow whenever nature takes them, while still being pruned into a coherent pattern. In a fractal, the pattern is the same at any magnification; the image is repeating over and over again, and when you step back the overall picture is again beautiful in another dimension. Is love, joy, or peace apparent in every facet of my life? Is it significantly prominent anywhere? Can people look at my life as a whole and see a complete mosaic of Jesus?

I love the idea of my life, my garden, always evolving and emerging. I love that I can be beautiful today and be beautiful tomorrow, and yet be different. I love even more that even though I may see myself as an absolute failure, Jesus tells me that I'm everything He ever wanted and yet still encourages me to become so much more.

Caves

I generally dislike darkness. It stresses me out and makes me somewhat claustrophobic. When it's dark, I'm blind and crippled; I'm not free to move around to explore the world around me or get much accomplished. Despite all the drawbacks to darkness, I think I'm living in a cave. I don't mean it in the sense that I'm bunkering down in my room with just me, my blankie, and my laptop (though this does happen) - but the Dani that is ambitious and creative and tenacious isn't coming out to play often.

The part that concerns me even more though, is that I think a lot of my friends (assuming I have friends - but that's another blog for another day) are living in this cave with me. We're enjoying the darkness together because we glow off of each other just enough that we're able to get through the day, go through the motions. Our eyes have adjusted and we think we're okay - but there's so much more than just being okay. I'm tired of settling. We don't find a need to move... or maybe we do, but going out into the light now would burn our weakened eyes. It would involve effort, stretch muscles we haven't utilized, and sleepless nights where we lie in our beds too excited, too anxious, too worried. There's nothing more dangerous than a content Christian.

Or maybe I'm in the cave alone, and everybody's just running around in circles outside near the shelter of the cave. I do think we have had some good things for us as individuals or small groups, but I also think we've come back from these events and highs nearly the same as we were before. The Fuel team is dying; we've accomplished almost nothing in the last year. I'm tired of sitting in a room talking. First we talked about what we would do; time, money, and ability was all something that could be overcome. Then we started discussing things we could do; we were tired and just couldn't exert the same amount of effort again. Now we're simply having the same conversation over again: What will make you want to do something again?

We need an inciting incident (or at least I know I do), and I think this has been attempted a few times, but not yet succeeded. I think I've found mine - and it didn't cost a week out of town, a wordy speaker, or gobs of money. It's love, relationship. We did a survey in my statistics class - only 52% of students claimed belief in a higher power. 24% said they had no higher power, and 24% said they weren't sure. My class is pretty ethnically diverse; not all 52% of those students are followers of Yahweh. Over half my class is going to hell. OVER HALF. One in two? Two in three? An entire side of the room, at least. That literally makes me sick to my stomach to think that my peers, my friends, are going to hell... Can I say it again? WHY is this not enough to get me to move? Why can everyone know that I'm a Christian, people ask me "What did you do over the break? Save Africa?", or ask me in English class about biblical allusions, or say "oh, you're really religious, aren't you?" and yet not know anything more about who Jesus Christ is than they did when I met them my freshman year? This is disgusting; it stirs my heart. Why has this not kept me up at night before? I've shared the gospel several times and had little success; telling people feels embarrassing and awkward, but now there's numbers and faces...

It's awkward, but I like it. It needs to be done.

My darkness seems difficult, but my friends' darkness is going to be a whole lot worse. Something must be done. I can't wait for them to finally decide to drive to Sledgewater to go to youth group. I can't wait for someone else to tell them. Car crashes happen... people die too early. I need to move. Lives need to be changed, and I am called to catalyze it. I'm getting running out of my cave.

Matthew 10:26-34

“So do not be afraid of them, for there is nothing concealed that will not be disclosed, or hidden that will not be made known. What I tell you in the dark, speak in the daylight; what is whispered in your ear, proclaim from the roofs. Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather, be afraid of the One who can destroy both soul and body in hell. Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care. And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. So don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.

“Whoever acknowledges me before others, I will also acknowledge before my Father in heaven. But whoever disowns me before others, I will disown before my Father in heaven.

“Do not suppose that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I did not come to bring peace, but a sword.

Moving On & Moving Forward

I've held fast to Jeremiah 29:11

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

There's so much I love about this verse. The fact that God ordained and blessed my life before I even came to be amazes me. Every piece of suffering and joy must pass through His hands before it passes through mine - and therefore, I know that it must be good. I struggle though, with the difference between God creating events and God permitting events. He doesn't cause suffering, but He does allow it. The things He wants for me and has created for me are not meant to harm me, but rather to build me up and give me a greater tomorrow. God doesn't say He'll give us a hope - He just says He'll give us hope. The single, solitary, exclusive hope that is available, pure and fulfilling.

Over the last year, I've repeated this verse to myself over and over and over again.

Though my perspective says that it destroyed me and my fragile family unit, Jesus says that moving into the woman's house was to prosper me.

When my dad disowned me, Jesus said there is still hope and that He will never leave me.

When I was sick, Jesus had better plans for me - and yet He knew I would do it. But He also knew the beautiful moment that I would come to realize that His plans held SO much more for me than being a certain size.

Now, as college acceptance letters come in (Liberty and PBA today!) and scholarship money is allocated, my heart leaps for joy. It's a giant tangible piece that allows me to see the future God holds for me; His promise is being fulfilled right before my eyes.

My heart is free to dance, my heart is free to run. I'm not the person I was before. I can celebrate over four months of being healthy, sans fetter. And let me just say - IT FEELS SO GOOD!!! I love being able to think "the last time I was here / did this, I couldn't enjoy it because I was sick..." and knowing that today, I don't have that burden. Though I still get the occasional attack of anger, guilt, shame, and I'm still facing repercussions, I'm moving on and moving forward. I lost my Junior year, 2010 - or maybe, more accurately, I gave it up. We all make choices, and I'm fully aware that I had poor judgement. I know that so much of this was brought upon myself. I also know that while my friends may not forgive me and I may never have the same privileges or respect I once enjoyed, Jesus has granted me all the grace in the universe. I think that's what breaks my heart the most - knowing that Jesus was waiting for all of this to happen... I can't imagine knowing somebody would do things that would destroy their life, and having to simply wait and let it take its course. But I know He smiled the day it ended; He knew that day was coming, too. We can't enjoy freedom unless we've endured slavery.

So here's to a new life and a second chance (:

Running a marathon

I'm a runner, both with my feet and my heart.

When there's too much going on in my world, I'll escape and take a nap.

When my phone dings again with an f-bomb laden, accusatory text, I close the dialog.

I ignore calls from people and institutions that cause too much mayhem, delete emails that I don't want to deal with, and leave my phone in the car on those days when I just can't deal with anybody more than the person sitting next to me.

When the going gets rough, I pack my bags and move on to the next house.

It's what I do, and I suppose to some extent, it's a linear sin that's been passed down through the generations that hold my family name.

I'm not sure that taking a nap when you're overwhelmed or avoiding headache-inducing people is inherently bad - until it hinders progress. Sleeping through the entire weekend probably won't make for a better Monday. B-lining for the other side of the room probably won't resolve differences. There's a time for being alone to meditate. There's a time for just being left alone to deal with anything but your demons. There's a time to remove all extraneous distractions to be able to focus on one issue. But there's also a time to face them head on with a bold face.

Jamie George says "The truth is, for all of us, that whether we're living in a moment whether we don't understand, or we're living in a moment that, for us, on our end, it seems somewhat boring or full of futility, it all comes down to this little word - faith... and trust... and I would submit worship. Is He really The Holy One? Is the story really about Him?" Or have I made it about me? Have I put more concern in advancing my life than I have in advancing the Kingdom?

For the past year or so, I've felt like God is sitting in Heaven going "Let me see how jacked up you can make your life before I step in." While that's not reality, that is where I'm at. Prayers bounce off the roof. I've got a bulldozer to dig me deeper and deeper with no ladder to get out. But I'm not an idiot; I know God goes silent for a time, and I know that He is strongest when we are weakest. He'll drop us to the ground if that's what it takes for us to get on our knees.

Ray Orland believes, "Any hope that isn't from God is an idol of our own making." I've cleaned out the "big" idols (drinking, smoking, sex, 4 letter words) - there's no giant, looming Asherah pole in my view, but I've got enough skeletons in my closet to fill a peat bog. My whole life, I've put my hope in becoming an "adult"; becoming eighteen, moving away, and going to college were my vehicles to freedom. Now as this is all coming into play, I'm quickly realizing that this is not reality. Somehow, I had this idea that when the clock struck midnight between March 6th and March 7th, I'd suddenly have this beautiful world at my fingertips that would release me from whatever I had been living in for the past eighteen years. Now, I am becoming aware of a few things:

1) This event will do no more than allow me to buy my own White-Out and make me suddenly solely responsible for myself with no protection.

2) I'm an idiot. Really Dan? Look around at the young 20-somethings you know. They're all either still living with their parents or crammed up in sketchy apartments, swimming in debt and Ramen noodles. Yep, it's glorious.

3) The problems that I want to be released from won't go away just because I choose to run and put physical distance between me and their proprietors.

4) Home is home, and this is what it is.

5) I'd have to sincerely question whether this event has become an idol or not. Is my hope in the fact that God will protect me no matter my age, education status, or where I live? In the knowledge that He's got plans for me (love love love Jeremiah 29:11) and has got it all figured out? In awareness that He didn't create me with a spirit of timidity that would run and hide to LA or Chicago without ever looking back?

I'll be the first to admit that Sledgewater isn't the life I had envisioned for me. My life was very much supposed to be like "Even Stevens"; I was very convinced I would be Ren Stevens, reincarnate. But that doesn't matter; that's not my reality. I've been dealt other cards by the Dealer that gives no bad hands - we're just a bunch of awful players. He can read my p-p-poker face, even when myself and others can't. Have I put too much faith in test scores, grade point averages, and Pulitzer-worthy essays? Have I really trusted that He is holy? Set apart, beyond and above me, incomprehensible. He's entitled to my praise and worship - not some flashy degree.

Either I'll come back for Christmas with excitement or I'll be "that kid" that stays at school. If I do return, which I don't doubt I will at some point, I probably won't have the option of staying with my biological family. That hurts. This weekend, I'll go for the campus preview day at Florida Southern College. It cuts me like a knife to know that I'll be (one of, probably) the only kid without a doting parent leading the way, ensuring that their baby is well taken care of next fall. It's both within and without; I neither have a family, nor don't. It's a strange situation to not belong, but to need to belong. But this is what it is - I have to be independent and strong. Nobody will take care of me except for myself. Embellished resumes will only get me so far. Admissions offices don't care that my mom is absent or that my dad kicked me out; they'll look at my grades, look at my test scores, and make a mildly informed decision. And that's where I went wrong, under the belief that nothing else mattered beyond what my transcripts read while falsely and unknowingly thinking I could do it on my own.

So maybe, rather, He's sitting in Heaven saying "Let me see how jacked up you can get before you'll sincerely humble yourself." God's in the business of perfection, so I will finish this year with excellence and move on to seemingly greater things.

Travelocity

I never grew up taking trips. I wasn't that kid that went to camp for the summer, or to Nana's every Thanksgiving or to the mountains over winter break. It's too often that I say "I've never been..." It's no wonder that now, as a seventeen year old young "adult", I have this itch to travel and go somewhere. I'm a well educated (as much as public school can give you, at least), fully competent (okay, so I lack common sense), young women with dreams and aspirations beyond this town of forty-thousand. I can sit here all night and tell you the functions of the kidney (test next Monday!) but I'm so incredibly uncultured and simply unfamiliar with the life outside of Daniland.

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Paige and I want to go camping. Please, stifle your laughter. I am fully aware of how dysfunctional that sounds. But I look at it this way - either we will die, or we will survive. I'm too young to die, so I'm banking on survival. While Nate and Darren may have bets that we'd last mere minutes alone in the woods, I'm convinced that we could handle it. I mean, how hard can starting a fire be? Bring on the Chanel scented bug repellent and Vera Bradley sleeping bags!

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I've been communicating with my Great Grandma a lot. I had the brilliant idea while I was in the shower (does anybody else make some great life decisions in the shower? I think the aromas of great smelling soaps and the hot water open some inner-brain pores or something) that I should go see her, and the rest of the family in Chester, Mass. I've already found flights. Now it's just a matter of scraping together the last few pieces of money. (Anybody need a babysitter?) My family has always been estranged to me - or rather, my mother has made it certain that I shall remain removed from them. I'm free from her now though, and I reserve the right to know where I come from. It's some sort of birth right; the older I get, the more I am convinced that knowing your family is essential to progressing yourself. We all want to go beyond what our previous generations did - but I haven't a clue what that is. I truly want to know the history of the people I come from. Who passed on their hazel eyes and dimple chin to me? Does anyone else share in the odd quirks that I have? Am I related to some influential historical figure? Where did this sickle cell come from?

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BTW - That bio book is the one we use for SL and HL bio (:

College applications are due all too soon and I have no clue what I'm doing with my life. I want to start making my rounds about what schools I want to see. I definitely want to look at Moody and Wheaton in Chicago, and Azusa in California. I have a few others that I like too, but really, I need someone to sit down with me, go over my options, and help me formulate some sort of slightly organized plan of attack / future. Now if only I can work out the logistics... Chaperone, anyone?

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I used this book as a source for my Extended Essay!

I don't have a doubt in my mind that I'll go back to Detroit one day. My heart aches for this city; I get teary eyed just thinking about it. I don't think I've ever loved a place as much as I love the 313. I don't think God is finished with me there, yet. Greater things are yet to come for Detroit; I can't even fathom the things that God may do with them for His Kingdom. I'm SO excited to watch this place change and grow; but for now, my heart will break and I will be left with that awful, helpless feeling. There's nothing I can do in this moment but pray.

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When Nate & Amanda took me to Virginia last year, we came upon an agreement. I'm not stupid; it's not that my lack of common sense and life skills is a failure on my part to learn - rather, I was never able to fully explore my classroom of life that is supposed to teach us these things. I just haven't been exposed to SO much. I can't grasp beyond what I've witnessed. Life is our best teacher, and I've never been outside my one myopic classroom. I want to experience what's beyond me; there's so much out there besides the bubble I live in!

In motion.

An object in motion stays in motion.

I've been in motion - and it's not forward. I have the potential to make this year or break it; it will either be the Year of Dani, or not.

I don't care what everyone has heard; some of which is false. The fact is, nobody but Jesus and I know the truth, and that's enough for me. The rumors were started despite the assurance given to me that they wouldn't. The stories spread and the eyebrows were raised regardless of my opinion or record. Now I won't deny there was some truth in the gossip that was milled, but the fact is, I am / will / should be dealing with it privately.

So here's my public declaration. Let me say it - it is finished, and frankly, it is nobody's business but my own and Jesus'. My internal struggle was not the place of other's to share, and was only intensified by the way it was handled by the people who were supposed to protect me. Mouths were opened out of turn, unjust punishments were dealt, and assumptions were made then proclaimed as truth. A giant hurricane of miscommunication has destroyed the good things I had going for me; now I'm left to clean up the rubble - but don't doubt me, it will be repaired. The "help" I was given was only hurt, but that's irrelevant for this posting. I will continue to strive to release my frustration and anger, and forgive those I feel have wronged me and trampled my trust. I may never agree with decisions that were brought upon me, but what's done is done. Forgiveness, healing, and growth is in store. Jesus and I will slowly remove my wall, brick by brick, that has ironically left me defenseless.

I may feel like wear a scarlet letter, but I will still hold my head high. I will leave this year, my final senior year, with a bang. I will continue the legacy of excellence that I have long desired but wavered from. "To give anything less than your best is to sacrifice The Gift" (S. Prefontaine); this is a gift that I'm not returning - it's worth it. The storm has passed, and is never coming back. I am quite certain that it is impossible to love others and to love God well (don't even consider bringing Him glory) when one is married to their iniquities. The ending of my story is what I choose to write it as, with God as my editor.

So there it is. Let the elephant in the room be put back in the zoo. My demons will never be removed from my home if I'm not willing to take them out of the closet with my own two hands. The questions will come, the awkward glances will beam across the room, and hushed voices will whisper. But the story is over. Let's bury the hatchet, and may I move on with my life. I will make it happen, I will make it work. I have to; not because someone is dragging me along, but because I need to and desire to do it for me.

Goal!

I've been reading Donald Miller's blog. He posted a piece on the success of youth; a big problem we have is that we lack goals. I can definitely be a case study for this. I have no goals - I'm quite content with just making it through the day, only to repeat the same ritual over and over, until by Thursday morning I'm completely beat and praying for Friday evening to come. The problem that I have with "goals" is that they seem so abstract; how do I know what my life will look like in 10 years and if this will still be what I'll want for myself? Well, it's better than nothing. It shows purpose and allows for fulfillment and meaning. The other issue I have is that I never know what to do once I have these desires. I suppose though, that I can never know how to get there, if I haven't a clue where I'm going (road trips without maps are always dysfunctional - unless you're me, and can get lost with the best GPS available).

So here we go!

• 10 years: 27 years old; August / September 2020

1. Have little baby Dani's (ehh... we're still not convinced of this one, but I'm getting old!)
2. Be married (okay, I'm sure you've all heard me say "I want the party, the dress, the cake and the presents, but not the groom - but hey, someone has to take care of said babies!)
3. Be out of school!

• 5 years: 22 years old; August / September 2015

1. Have a bachelors degree in some well-accomplishing, useful, enjoyable field
2. Begin / continue graduate school
3. Develop some plan for "settling down" after school

• 1 year: 18 years old; August / September 2011

1. Be heading to college (and confident with the decision)
2. Develop some working idea of what I'm going to do for a career
3. Devise some way to continually encourage and love on my small group girls throughout the year (It'll be their first year since 3rd grade without Miss Dani around)

• 1 month:17 years old; September 30, 2011

1. Have drafts of college applications completed
2. Have 5 scholarships applied for
3. Have CAS hours turned in

• 1 week:17 years old; September 6, 2011

1. Schedule a visit for Flagler College
2. Have Extended Essay complete (it's 21 pages of excellence, broken up into chapters, if you're interested in a light read)
3. Narrow down college selections to top 5

Amira Rose

I'm quite certain that I have the most beautiful little sister in the whole world.

Christie

Me: "Christie, come look at my cute new blog!"

Christie: "Am I in it?"

Me: "Uhh... no?"

Christie: "Then it's not cute!"

So here you go, Tina.

I love you tons and tons! This summer has been great with my roommate (minus my missing clothes). I'm going to miss you when you leave!

Love,

Dani

A city where I can settle

Then they cried out to the LORD in their trouble, and he delivered them from their distress. He led them by a straight way to a city where they could settle. - verses 6 & 7

I love it when God makes a great rescue. When all seems hopeless and like the villain is going to win, in steps Jesus to save the day and "bind up the brokenhearted". During the reign of King Jehoiakim, the Babylonian empire invaded Judah, God's holy land. King Nebuchadnezzar (affectionately known as King Nebby) was exalted and took the Jews hostage, bringing them into captivity. Almost overnight, these poor families were suddenly prisoners, some of them in a new land. They were beaten on, starved, degraded, and abused.

But you see, the awesome thing about God though, is that He "will not reject his people; he will never forsake his inheritance." God promised the Israelites long ago that he would always bring them back, even from the most distant lands. He promised to never leave nor forsake them. The amazing thing is that God never goes back on these promises, and they transcend generations.

The Jews held captive in Babylon began their prayer with a reflection of praise and worship. They then moved right into communicating to God exactly what was hurting them and remembered how He had redeemed them so many times before. They held onto their faith of the past, and never gave up hope that their Maker would come back once more to save them. Even in the midst of captivity, they thanked God for all He had done, and for that which was coming. They cried out, despite their iniquities, approaching the throne with reverence, fear, and faith. It was then that God rescued them from their deepest gloom, their mire, and their prison. It was then, only after they had acknowledged the power of God and put all their trust in Him that He broke away their chains and brought them to a city where they could settle - a place where they could rest their heads and find peace.

As for me, in quietness and trust is my strength. I too, will only be rescued through repentance and rest. The funny thing is though, that God asks for us rest before we are even healed and brought into the place were we think we should be. It makes me want to say, with my finger on the poorly drawn map that I've crafted for my own life, "Umm, God, come on now. I can't relax when I'm surrounded by this and this! If you'll just bring me here, then I can rest. Then I'll be okay. Then I can keep my head above water, and everything will be good." But (thankfully), that's not how it works. The great thing is that God is working on my team. He has plans for me that are greater than anything I can scheme up, that all work for the greater good of His Kingdom. When He asks me to rest, He's asking me to trust in Him. He's asking me to bring my matters to the table and know I am heard. He's asking me to rest in Him, knowing that it will all be taken care of accordingly. I too, will find a city where I can settle and be free.

The art of trying.

There's a lot to be said about trying. What people pour their heart and souls into has a reflection on... well, their heart and soul; it'd be foolish to devote ourselves to something that doesn't hold meaning. It's a reflection of our values. We sacrifice big things for the promise of something even greater. We go through the pain of the struggle in the hope of the outcome, much like an athlete punishes his body for the dream of a medal.

I have a friend; I love her with all my heart, and I would hope she would say the same. The odd thing is though, we have had an on-and-off, misunderstood, unresolved falling out for the last year, full of anger and hurt. But there's something that keeps the both of us going. There's some great outcome we are both striving for and believe is out there that keeps both of us moving forward, trying to repair the relationship. It's a friendship that will last for a long time, I am certain, because of the roots it holds and the mutual hope that we both have. The hope is Christ-driven, and tell us that it's okay to be angry, but to not seethe with hate; it's okay to address and confront wrongs, but not to keep a record of them; it's okay to step out of the picture for a season, but to never stop loving. We both know this friendship is not over. We both still go to each other after weeks of silence with both great news of success and shattering, late-night desperation of comfort, or spend the day together like best friends should. Despite what has happened, we still defend each other in front of others and interact civilly together even in the midst of our deepest arguments.

A wise observer told me, "It's crazy, you two. You're radically different, but you love each other. The thing that amazes me though, is that you never stop trying." That's what makes the difference - trying.

Soccer Mom

I took 4 little boys to the movies this morning.
In a minivan.
To watch Alvin & The Chipmunks.
With every other kid in Volusia.

I hate the chipmunks.
A whole lot.
Always have.
But I enjoyed myself - and I'm pretty sure the boys did too (even if they did try to beat each other on the way home... but I think that's an innate masculine thing that never goes away.)

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The status on the Extended Essay?
Nada.

I need to get something done on that.

Thesis

Okay, so I realize most normal teenagers are going to get in their happy place over the prospect of writing an essay during the summer that determines if they can get their diploma or not.

But I'm pretty stinking excited to learn about the place I love most - Detroit.

My essay requires me to answer an investigative question in one of the 6 major areas of the IB hexagon (blah blah blah, nobody cares).

My thesis? (We're still working on the wording, but here's the general gist).

What was the biggest factor in the downfall of Detroit in the 20th century?

The essay will address the downfall of the city from three perspectives

1. Racial - including the white flight phenomenon, the riots of the 1960's, and increased animosity spawned from the influx of uneducated African Americans from the South to work for Ford at lower wages, as well as the Civil Rights movement
2. Economic - focusing on mainly the rise and fall of the automobile industry (see above about Ford), the effects of the highway system, and perhaps some pop-culture industries like Motown Records and Creem magazine and the introduction of drugs to the area
3. Political - specifically approaching the reign of Coleman Young, the areas first black mayor, who can be seen as either friend or foe; the blatant racism of the police force primarily during the first half of the century

It's still in the works.

Housesitting

I've spent the last week housesitting for my pseudo parents, Nate and Amanda. They weren't supposed to come home until tonight - which left me this morning to clean up after myself.

Until they texted me yesterday afternoon saying they came home early.

Umm. Oh crap.

The instant thought that rushed through my head was

• the week's worth of dirty dishes in the sink
• the assortment of clothes left in their bedroom (so the Satan dog wouldn't eat them)
• the explosion of teenage girl in the bathroom
• whatever else I've left out around the house

Can I say enough apologies to save myself from too much embarrassment?

But instead of being angry that their cozy home looked more like a college dorm, they brought me dinner. I came home to money on the table for watching the dog. I walked in the laundry room and found a basket of already clean laundry with some of my stuff in it. The sink was empty. The bathroom was neatly organized, with my stuff either put in nice little piles or back in my makeup bag (which my dad argues is a toolbox, and needs wheels). They came home from the concert after me with a big hug and a kiss.

I think they kind of love me.

Good thing they still don't know about the party.

jk ;-)

Satisfied

"Satisfied is not a life full of activities, but a soul full of Jesus."

Momma Manda started this bible study with me a few weeks ago, and I came across this line in my study today. It made me stop and think for a moment...

What is satisfied?

• Being content
• Needing nothing more
• Having no desire or craving for something else
• Being full, complete, and whole

How often do we go through our lives thinking

"... if I can just get XYZ done in time..."

"... if I can run my miles a minute faster..."

"... if I can get an A on this test..."

"... if I could sign up for this event..."

"... if I could make this work..."

only to find out that once we've accomplished it - we just crave more. We cross one thing off of our TDL, only to add three more items. It's a never ending list of things we wish or need to do. We do things we feel obligated to contribute to. We do things that are expected and required of us. Sometimes (if we're really lucky) we do things we want to do. And maybe, somewhere in there, God gets thrown a bone or two. Quiet spiritual time is both a need and a desire (hopefully!) but somehow always gets thrown on the backburner between working full days and making dinner.

I don't think God had much of a TDL when He made the heavens and the earth. I don't think He stressed about where to put this tree, or what shape to make Adam's nose, and I'm sure He didn't worry about if He would have time to do the laundry between running to the store, making it to movie night (oops, I'm blogging instead of doing that one!), or going to yoga. He just did. He just covered the earth with greenery - and said that it was good. He just made Adam, and knew that because He put his love into it, it must be good.

I'm not sure Jesus had a planner He kept with him in His purse (I would argue that when you go from city to city, you're allowed to carry a bag and still be masculine - but I believe He said something somewhere in the bible about not having any possessions) that had events color-coded and time-slotted. I'm not sure He had to schedule people in days or a week ahead of time in order to "make time" for them. He just went. He just lived. He did what He needed to do. Am I making sense?

Now if we look at my life...

• I'm babysitting 74 hours this week (14+ hour days!)
• Charlie, my car, has a doctor's appointment
• I have meetings with multiple people that I have to attend
• I have to work the concert (after a full day of babysitting)
• I need to find somewhere in there to work out, clean, do laundry
• I'm not really sure where I'm living next week (does anybody have a spare bedroom and would like to house a teenage girl for a bit?)
• I'd like to see my friends some time this week

My schedule is full. But is my soul?

I thought today about what I had to do. The father of the kids I nanny for said he would be coming home a couple of hours early today. The first thing I did was think of all the things I could do with these extra two or three hours - go run a few miles, go to yoga, start a load of laundry, do the dishes, sweep the floors, complete another day in my bible study, go to Movie & Theology. Then it hit me - I'm exhausted. I'm tired and full of events and things to do. I can't remember the last time I just sat in front of a TV or on my laptop by myself for a half hour just to escape and regroup.

So instead of going out or being productive, I stayed home and vegged out. Then I went to bed. And it was good.

Adventures

I'm almost certain that Aunt Michelle is ready to beat me for not blogging in so long.
My life over the past few months has been quite the adventure. The entire contents of my closet that still fits has been packed into my Detroit bag - organized and packed in 40 minutes, with room to spare! (Feel free to donate to the Danineedsnewclothes Fund).

It's been mass chaos around Danville... for reasons I cannot explain on my public blog (thanks Mom, for cyberstalking me to get info for court).

However, I did get a chance to get out of this town for at least a day. So while it may not quite fit the "road trip" description (I'd argue that any trip that leaves you yelling at each other over directions is a road trip), it was my first unchaperoned out of town adventure - and we didn't do half bad getting there! We only had to stop for directions once, but we were so close to our destination. I must say, Paige, Elyce, and I know St. Augustine like the back of our hands now.

I've always been a pretty cautious person, but I think through everything that's happened over the last few years, that's changed. Sure, I'm still pretty high maintenance, and I still go into shut down mode when I overheat, but I've found a new love in exploring and trying new things... including climbing all over the ruins in St. Augustine.

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Now if you know me, you're probably fully aware that I don't do well with nature (refer to above comment about heat)... but I think this would make Steve Irwin proud... don't hate on the gloves though. A girl's gotta make sure she doesn't get salmonella ;-)

Take a good look at this picture.
No, look again.
Do you see that?
That's mud.
Thick, gooey, black mud full of whoknowswhat kind of bacteria and other critters.
I'm up to my calves in it.
And yes, I got in that kayak (new adventure for me!)

But I loved it.
Enough said.

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Okay! So finally, we're back inside! Hello, air conditioning, UV-protection, and dirt-free ground! But before I risk looking like too much of a sissy again, please note that that is slick ice that we are running (and falling!) on.

Kevin has introduced Refined to broomball.

Possibly my new sport of choice - if I were to ever get a chance to play again. It's essentially hockey with brooms instead of sticks, and shoes instead of skates (omit any physics here). You will crash. You will be bruised. You will become ultra-competitive, and then realize going faster and playing harder... only makes you crash faster and fall harder. That's my kinda game... I'm secretly highly competitive.

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And saving the best for last... Here is the latest picture of my baby sister, Amira Rose (who doesn't look so much like an alien anymore).

Let's say it all together now... Awww (-:

Momma Manda surprised me yesterday by kidnapping me - I must say, I thought I was in some sort of trouble when she demanded I tell her where I was and that I was coming with her, whether I wanted to or not. But she totally made my whole week by letting me come to a sonogram with her and Dad!!! LOVE LOVE LOVE THEM! I was all smiles. It's probably the most amazing thing ever. Can anybody put into words how AWESOME our God is?

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Next on my list of adventures?

- Shoot a gun

- Canoe the Panama Canal (okay, so this one is a very distant goal)

- Do yoga with Aunt Michelle

- Go to the circus with Aunt Michelle ;-)

- Actually finish a sewing project with Aunt Michelle