Somedays I wish I could perfectly articulate all that I experience in my world.

Somedays I wish I didn't have to wait for inspiration, that it instead was available to use at my leisure.

Somedays I wish I could just close my eyes and the scene before me would stop for just a little while longer.

Somedays I wish life was just that simple, that the way I saw the world really did matter.

Somedays I wish I was fearless.

Most nights I lie awake thinking that smiles and laughter is all that is good in life.

I start to put my hope in people and in circumstances.

I begin to believe in the power of what I can do.

But I'm so very wrong.

Yes, there is still beauty in the world, because we're still here.

Every smile, every sound of laughter, it all points to Christ. We were made in His image.


We're His children.

So shouldn't the children of God be beautiful?

There is beauty in us because of Christ. We were made for Him and that is reflected in who we are.

So all those nights, I sit in my bed dreaming of a better tomorrow, I'm really hoping for Christ. I'm dreaming of the day when my sanctification is complete, and I am with Him forever.

David tells us in the Psalms to delight ourselves in the Lord and He will give us the desires of our hearts. I once believed that if I turn to God, He would give me everything I wanted. But who am I to ask God for something I'm not even sure is right for me? Who am I to demand that God give me something because I, in my human mind and spirit, believe it is best for me? Everything is about God, whether we acknowledge it or not. Every person on this earth, every tree rustling in the wind, every creature under the sun, and anything else in all creation is screaming for Christ. He is the only thing that completes us. He's not the only thing that truly completes us, He is the only thing. There is no competition for Christ. There is only Christ.

Jesus is everywhere. I wish people saw that more. I wish I saw that more.

I wish I would spend less of my days worried about security and more of them worrying about loving Christ more.

I wish I would throw myself completely into my relationship with Him.

I wish I would let Jesus complete me.

I wish I could feel Him like I did again.

I wish somewhere in the middle of my dreaming and wishing there would just be peace, and Christ.

Throwback Thursday

Because we all need a little laugh every now and then.

Because I absolutely love love pictures, and the older the better.

Because I picked these two girls up from school on Tuesday and Amanda(top left) is now 11 and will be entering middle school in the fall.

Because memory lane can be so very amusing.

So here's to these two girls and their little sister Caroline for giving me the privilege of watching you all grow up, for humbling me through changing each and everyone of your diapers, for introducing me to Dora, and for finally agreeing to take the underwear off your head before I put you into bed.

For the year ended April 30, 2012

Let's remember those moments we all forgot about.

Let us reminisce about those first couple awkward weeks of school. 

                                    Let us be thankful for those crazy late nights.

           For they gave way to friends that slowly became family.

                    But let us not become sad just yet.

                 For soon enough we'll all be back together again.

   But before we go, we have a few people we'd like to remember.

                       To those that were always there for you.

To those that encouraged us along the way.

                      And who always put a smile on your face.

                                    To them we say thank you.

          For all those times you gave us the strength to carry on.

For befriending the awkward freshman on that first day of class.

For making us hot tea when all we wanted to do was fall apart and cry.

       For being patient with us, and serving selflessly.

                                        And for believing in us.

For you truly made this year memorable. 

And let MC become that home that I always knew it would.

Lately I've been thinking about one year ago. Where I was and what I was doing. 

Every morning I got to school by 8:30 if not earlier. Most days I would stop in and say hi to Ms. Bottoms and work on newspaper related things in her room while talking photography with her. If I had an AP Bio test or quiz that day I was usually outside Mrs. Straits room begging one of the extremely smart kids in my class to explain to me what cytokinesis or cellular respiration was. At 8:41 the bell rang for first period to end and the very narrow halls of Memorial High school became overcrowded as we all scrambled to make the most of our 5 minute intermedium between classes.

Most days biology was interesting, but other days I just stared at the clock and waited for the bell to save me. I then would continue on to third period where Mr. McCardle would inform me of the newest newspaper disaster. The printer moved the deadline up a day, another ad cancelled on us, our photographers had again refused to turn in any pictures or do any work for that matter. We read books in third period. We talked about stories and people and read poems. We took stands on matters and learned to believe in ourselves. And if it was Monday, we got to share any college news we had. I still remember the Monday that I announced I received a scholarship to attend Mississippi College in the fall.

4th period was calculus, which meant Mr. Harter, which meant at least a five minute debrief with the collective guys in our class about "the game" last night. I never knew which "game" they were talking about. But nonetheless, if someone was throwing, kicking, or hitting some type of ball, they talked about it. 

Then I had A lunch, which, at the beginning of the year, was a real bummer. But it turned out to be a pretty sweet deal. I got to know four awesome girls. A completely motley crew, but still some of my favorite people. 

Newspaper was always, as I said before, a disaster. But a beautiful one at that. That class was a place where I learned how to step up and get things done. I learned how to make decisions and take charge. I saw that hard work really does pay off in the end. I found photography there. I saw the Lord's purpose there. I witnessed the Lord's faithfulness there.

Mr. Walton always made 6th period a little more interesting. He once did an impersonation of a guy on a roller coaster that almost made the kid next to me pee his pants. The man was a die hard LSU fan, so I wasn't crazy about him from the beginning.

There's been something about life lately that's got me stopped. As each day passes, more and more of my life is here in Mississippi. I've spend a total of about four weeks in Houston this past year. All those people that I saw growing up day in and day out, I don't see anymore. 

But that's just it. I don't want those people to leave my life. I want to see their faces again. I want to talk about life like we used to. I'm sick of always being apart from people, but at this stage in life, I feel like I'm always away from somebody. I'm excited about being home for a little bit and then going off to camp this summer, but it's killing me that I have to leave MC for four months. 

I refuse to pack up my room, because it means that this year is actually ending. I know it's just the beginning for me here, but there's just something about this year that I don't want to end. I don't want things to change. I don't want to have to start over again next fall. I don't want to spend my summer away from people.

But there's something about this summer that the Lord keeps whispering in my ear. It must happen. Not that it has to, but that it must. There are some things that need to happen this summer for me to be the person I need to be this fall. There are lessons that I need to learn. There are people I need to meet. There are instances where I need to grow.

And then in due time, it will be late August and we'll all be back together. We'll be moving new freshman into the dorm. A new wave of girls will rush NT, and life will go on. Life always goes on.

And I'm learning that that's ok. Change is good. Newness is good. But most of all, our God is so good and so much greater than this little life I lead. 

Meet me at the foot of the cross.

Cause that's where I'll be.

I know I've got to be there.

It's the only place where there's peace. It's the only place I can wait patiently.

If you see me weeping, don't worry. It only means I'm beginning to grasp just how good our God is.

Some days it scares me. But He tells me it's ok. He is over all things.

But my heart is in the Lord. My hope is solely in Him.

He stills my spirit. He sings songs of joy over me. He restores me.

I'm not looking for security. Where I am, I have all the security I'll ever need.

I'm not asking for popularity, because I know that fades with time.

It's not about those things. It's not really about anything but Christ.

But join me, please. Let's bow at the feet of our Savior together.

I just want to let you know that's where I am. That's where I'll be.

What if it all didn't matter.

What if we did it.

What if we walked out.

What if everything melted away and it was just us.

You ask me how I'm different. Truth is I'm not really different, I'm just me.

I focus on the little things. Every smile, every good moment means everything in my book.

I focus on the Lord because He is the source of my joy. His faithfulness reminds me that I am exactly where I'm supposed to be.

But it's true, I'm not perfect. As much as I would like to be or think I am, my heart is broken. And I am broken.

I view the world differently. I capture those moments that we forget about, those simple moments of beauty.

Because sometimes we need to see beauty, we need to see what God sees, and God sees beauty in us, in all of us.

So what if it didn't matter.

What if we walked away.

What if it all melted away, and we could just be us.

Well then none of it would matter, and that's the scariest part.

I don't think I can accurately describe what my heart went through this past week.

I don't think I can fully articulate to you what it is like to prayer walk through a mosque.

I don't think I can convey to you the grasp satan had over my soul.

I don't think I can show you how broken my heart is.

Paris is a dark city, and by dark I really mean full of life. And by full of life I mean the life that this world has to offer. I've never been in such a place of emptiness. After only 24 hours there, I was begging the Lord to take me back to America, back to MC, back to a place where I could feel the Lord again.

Because I couldn't feel the Lord in Paris, only Satan. I could only see Satan's work in Paris. After talking to a man on the street that told me there was no use for me being here and sharing about Christ everything spiritually for me shut down. Before I left and as I prayer walked I asked the Lord to break my heart for what breaks His. He answered that prayer. I felt the Lord's heart in such a new way. I got just a glimpse of the hurt and compassion he has over the people in Paris. And that hurt pierced through my heart and left me breathless. I became so spiritually weak that I could barely walk. All I wanted to do was cry. I wanted to run around the city of Paris, shaking people and letting them know that there is someone above all this world and who is in control and who loves them unconditionally. I was angry and so very frustrated. I wanted more than anything to return to MC and be back in a place where Christianity is the norm, but I didn't want anyone to know how discouraged I was. I didn't want to come back with stories like this.

I felt so useless. What in the world could I do in just a mere seven days. As I had already been told, I was wasting my time. No one was ever going to listen to me. I was so wounded. Everywhere I would walk, I would see people everywhere. People that God loves with all His heart and people that He is pursuing. And they just walked past me and went about their life, seeking fulfillment in empty places. What in the world can I do?

Most nights now I just ask the Lord to hold me, to hold my heart. I beg for him to tell me again that his plan is perfect, that He is just. Mostly, He just sits there with me. We sit in silence because words are not necessary. So we just sit there through the night, His arms around me, and we cry together, our hearts aching for the lost.

So if you ask me about my trip to Paris I'm going to tell you that it was good, because it was. To understand Christ's heart more was the most good I've had in a while.