I'm Ready (for this summer to be over with, dang it)!

To everything there is a season. In this case, it is Season 4, episode 16 of Spongebob Squarepants.

Say what you will about that show. You may think it's stupid and a waste of time, but I want to chime in. I've been watching this show since I was a kid. Since 1999 (can you believe it's still on the air after over 10 years?). I still like to watch it every now and then when I need a good little pick-me-up because it's cute, silly, and (if you ask me) still hilarious.

Today, I was still feeling down. Looking back on blog posts, pretty much every post I've made this summer has been sad. And it's not because I'm a depressed, emo, the-sky-is-falling kinda person. It's just that a lot of bad stuff has happened this summer. And not just to me. Almost everyone I know has been dealing with their fair share of crapola this summer. It has sucked massively. There's no way around it. I was getting ready to go out today. I had some errands to run. I was feelin' kinda blue. Then the episode of Spongebob came on called "Best Day Ever." I sat down to watch it. And guess what kiddos? I learned something valuable. Cartoons are still teaching people important things. Who knew?

Spongebob's "Best Day Ever" was supposed to go as follows...
Go to work at his favorite place, the Krusty Krab
Go do some of his favorite sport, karate, with Sandy
Go jellyfishing, his favorite pastime, with Patrick
Then go see Squidward's clarinet recital that evening

What really ended up happening?
The Krusty Krab was infested by nematodes
Sandy had a leaky roof and couldn't play
Patrick broke his jellyfishing net
Spongebob lost his ticket to the concert and missed the whole thing

Expectations did not line up with reality for poor Spongebob. They rarely ever do for any of us. Things never play out the way we expect them to. There are always curve balls and winding roads that lead us to where we are truly supposed to be but getting there is never easy and NEVER how we expect it to be. Is that fair? No. Did Spongebob deserve his perfect little day? Of course he did. So do you. So do I. But is it going to happen the way we think it is? Sadly no. But we will in the end learn that we really can have the Best Day Ever if we just change our perspective. You know what else happened in Bikini Bottom on Spongebob's Best Day Ever?

He lured the nematodes away from the Krusty Krab
He fixed Sandy's leaky roof
He lent Patrick his brand new jellyfishing net
He fixed Squidward's broken clarinet reed

Spongebob helped all his friends. So you see, even when we think we are being deprived, we could be helping someone else have the best day ever. And in turn, that could help us end the day on a good note. And that's not too shabby of a feeling. I know this is not news to you. It really wasn't news to me either. But I just couldn't help but smile and share and let you know this...

Tragedy touches all of us. But so does peace.

I have had a bad summer. Good friends of mine have had a bad summer. You may have had a bad summer. I'm sorry. But don't feel blue for long. Spongebob fixes everything. No matter how stupid you may think he is.

Mr. Sun came out and he smiled at me.
Said it's gonna be a good one just wait and see
Jumped out of bed and I ran outside
Feeling so extra exstatified!

It's the Best Day Ever!

It's a [Wonderful] Life

I wish I could spout encouraging words to you right now. I wish I had the strength and the courage to wrap my simple mind around everything that has gone on this summer. I keep trying to count my blessings, but I can't seem to get past the clouds. Where is the silver lining? I know that I am blessed and I know that other people have problems, bigger problems. But pain is pain. Hurt is hurt. Heart break is heart break. It's all just shades of gray. So how do you sort it all out? How do you get happy again when all you want to do is crawl into bed then immediately want to get up and scream and start a project and not know how to finish a project and the world is turned on it's end... It's not the end of the world but...life just sucks sometimes. You know? I'm not trying to be discouraging. It's just a truth.

I'm usually a pretty optimistic person. I have faith that everything that happens happens for a reason. Then something happens that shakes your universe and questions everything you know. You start asking the questions that man has been asking himself since the dawn of time...

Why do bad things happen to good people?
What did I do to deserve this?
How do I get over this?
Who is going to help me?
Where should I go to get away from all these problems?
When does it stop?

They say if you ask yourself "Why?" over anything five times, the answer will be something along the lines of "I don't know" or "It's just the way it's supposed to be" or "That's just the way God wants it." There is no root explanation to why things happen in life. They just do and getting through the struggles is what leads us to our true humanity. But it's not a happy journey at all. It's really hard. You cry a lot. You ask "why" a lot. You build yourself up. Things tear you down. You build yourself back up again. But how many times can you get knocked down before you throw up your white flag in total surrender? I'm tired of licking on the Tootsie Pop. I'm ready to just bite right in and get to the good stuff. For heaven's sake, I want to get to the good stuff.

I lost my cat this week. He was eleven years old. I lost my dog just three weeks ago. Whenever I go out in my backyard, I'm flooded with memories of my precious dog. Whenever I'm inside my house, I'm bombarded with memories of my cat. I have no siblings; I'm an only child. For me growing up, these pets were my siblings. They kept me company all the time; they never left my side. They were my best little friends who were always there for me and always loved me. And now two of them are gone. Ringo was hit by a car. The bastards didn't even stop. They killed my cat, broke the hearts of my family and me, and had no clue. I hate those people. I have hate in my heart now and I don't like it. It's not welcome but it's making itself at home. And I have no earthly idea how to get rid of it, going back to the burning questions. Yes, these were only animals, but they were my family. They were my siblings. It hurts a lot to lose both of them so close together. It's not fair. I feel broken.

The night before last, the night after I lost Ringo, I watched It's a Wonderful Life for the first time in my life. It made me feel sad and happy at the same time. I keep thinking about George Bailey and his hard life. He sacrificed so much for the people in his life. He gave up his dreams for his family and friends so that they could have the good lives that they did. He worked so hard all his life and in the end, his troubles caught up to him in a big way. He started asking himself those burning questions. And in the end, he learned that all these people in his life that he felt so bogged down by were the ones that really needed him. Without him, they would be lost and miserable.

Today I was watching Friends Season 2. There's an episode where the gang is watching Old Yeller and Phoebe was ignorant of the real ending. Turns out, she didn't know the ending to a lot of sad movies. *Spoiler alert* She didn't know Old Yeller died. She didn't know E.T. left. She didn't know that Rocky lost the fight. She was devastated that all these good stories ended sadly. So Monica hands her a VHS copy of It's a Wonderful Life. She tells Phoebe to watch it, saying it will "restore her faith in humanity."

I also keep thinking about Job, the biblical character from the old testament. Job had it all. He was living the dream. Then all of a sudden, he had a terrible-horrible-no-good-very-bad day. He lost everything. It was a challenge from God. God knew that Job would stay faithful even through the loss of everything in his life. The devil didn't think he could do it. But like always, God was right. Job stayed faithful even though his life was broken. He knew that his faith was stronger than the pain of losing his life. I wish I was like Job.

It's been a rough summer. But I've learned more this summer about the realities of life than I ever have. Yes, I've lost my dog and my cat. But surely I've gained something. Will I be able to be there for you when you are experiencing your own tragedies? I hope I can be. Everyone needs a shoulder to lean on, cry on, whatever. And I do count my blessings. They start with my amazing parents. Then my wonderful friends. Then Jimmy Stewart, Donna Reed, and my precious dog Zebo. And as much as I love(d) my animals, I remembered something else while watching It's a Wonderful Life...

When George sees Mary from across the room at the dance, he is completely captivated. He goes straight to her, takes her in his arms, claims her as his own and dances with her.

It reminded me that no matter how much we love our pets, no matter how much it hurts to lose them, that love can never take the place of real human love and compassion. We need each other. We need to look out for each other and take care of each other. Take care of your fellow man like George Bailey did. And never lose faith. Like Job didn't.

And for goodness sake, if you have a pet, spoil them rotten.

Goodbye Yellow Brick Road?

Right now, I want to give you a snap shot of my life and what's going through my mind.

This summer I'm living at home with my parents, taking summer classes at a community college. I will graduate from college in May of next year. Long story short, in less than a year life is going to slap me across the face...hard. And the question I keep asking myself is will I be ready for it?

How can anyone ever be ready for it? I've met people in my life, people my own age, who really seem to have it all together. They seem driven and focused. I envy them greatly. For a couple of years now, I haven't felt very pulled in any given direction. I was just floating and while that was nice because it let me focus on the here-and-now, I was still plagued with the stress of wondering "what happens next?" So what does happen next?

Finally, this past semester, I felt a pull in direction. I began taking a big interest in going to graduate school to study writing. Writing is something that I haven't been doing for a very long time. I started writing about half way through high school independently. I always feel so good after I write something, I can't really explain it. My writing is not that great but after I write down thoughts, a story, anything, I always just feel more at peace with myself. It's a strange kind of meditation but I love it very much. It's a (fairly) newly discovered art for me and I keep trying to expand it. I feel like if I went on to study it, I could potentially do well.

But what about my first love: theatre. What about theatre? I started acting in church plays and such as a small child. I started getting serious about acting my freshman year of high school and I never looked back. Yes, I get a soar of happiness from writing, but the feeling I get when I am onstage is something beyond words. I feel at home, at peace, in love. Everything I feel is wrapped up in a big, soft, homemade quilt of excitement and joy. This is a passion that I am sure God has instilled in me and I'll never know why. Growing up, I was always kind of the quiet one in my class. I did my homework every night. Never missed a day of school. Took dance lessons. Was in marching band. I was that kid. Looking back, I wouldn't consider a kid like that to be someone brave enough to get up on stage and act like an idiot. But finding that strength and that courage was by far the best decision I've ever made apart from getting saved. I feel this is my calling and I am so happy to find true love with such a great art. I feel like the art loves me back in some weird, wonderful way. You have to feel it to really understand what I'm talking about. Am I the best? No. But who really cares? I'm happy doing what I do and that's all I want for myself and I know that's all God wants for me as well. He led me to my craft, my strength, my passion, my soul mates in the theatre and for that I will always, until the day I die, thank Him.

Here's the catch. As much as I love theatre and as much as I am sure that God called me to do this, there are other priorities I must concern myself with. Exhibit A, how do I put a roof over my head? Exhibit B, how do I put food on the table? Exhibit C, how do I make a life for myself after I graduate in May with a degree in something I love but also in something that has an extremely limited job pool and practically no money? Burning questions? More like sizzling, gut-wrenching, oh my god I'm gonna die questions. I'm terrified. Which is what makes going to grad school sound so appealing.

The way I see it, theatre will always be there for me. It's a love that will never abandon me and I have no intention of abandoning it. I just have to take care of myself. I have to grow up and be an adult and get a good job and make good money so I can have the ability to live the kind of life I want to live. It's a hard decision to make. I want to be great. I want to live life to the fullest and sometimes I get really down because I look at where I am now, sitting in bed at my parent's house, 21 years old, life seemingly at a stand-still. I don't know whether to hate the stand-still or embrace it. The storm is coming and I don't feel fully prepared.

Please pray for me. I want to enjoy, truly enjoy, my senior year. I have so much left to accomplish in the upcoming months. Pray for me that I can succeed and graduate in May feeling on top of the world, not sinking. That's how I think every graduate should feel. It's a huge accomplishment to graduate college. I want to celebrate and feel amazing. But after the dust from all the grad excitement has settled, I'll need to know what I'm doing in the real world. I'll need a place to live, a job, and the confidence (most importantly) to make it all happen and be happy doing it.

I know life won't ever feed me cookies on a silver platter but I feel the passion and the potential inside of me to do great things. Whether it's theatre or writing or something that God hasn't even revealed to me yet, I just want to be happy as a member of God's great family. But I know that I can't just sit here and wait for greatness. Ben Franklin said "God helps those who help themselves." I feel those are very wise words. I want to be driven. I want to succeed. I want to make my mark, my impact on the world somehow. But I can't do it alone.

Good lord, being an almost-college-graduate-twenty-something-head-in-the-clouds-fine-arts-major is really confusing sometimes. But the fruits of the labor of an artist have the potential to impact something that seems so much bigger than even the world. I have to always remember to go back to the basics.

Strength, patience, courage, focus, understanding, compassion, and love.

Find out what it means to me.

So I have a bit of a confession to make. This is not the first draft of this post. Last night I sat down at my computer and started to write. I was totally up on my soap box and ranting about how people don't respect each other enough these days. I went on and on about how things were different in the past; things were more proper and less brash. I wrote quite a bit before I realized how preachy it sounded and I hated it immediately. No one likes to be lectured. But the theme remains in my mind.

Today I watched the movie "Kate and Leopold" for the first time. If you have never seen it and you are of the female sex, I would encourage it simply for the joy of watching Hugh Jackman as a sexy nobleman who falls in love with the always adorable Meg Ryan. The plot was a little (and by a little a mean a lot) far-fetched but it still made for a rather romantic movie. But it's not the romance or the all-around handsomeness of Mr. Jackman that I want to talk about right now. The character he plays is brought into present time from the year 1876. His attire is odd and very formal compared to today's clothes. His behavior and mannerisms are strange and very polite. His techniques for wooing women are classic and are still successful. In that sense alone does he remain timeless. In all other senses, he is a weird speciman dropped right in the middle of modern day Manhattan.

So my ponderings are thus... when did being polite become rare or strange? When did treating people with respect and dignity go out the window? If it's not broke, why do we fix it?

I often yearn for simpler times. I wonder what it would be like to live in a world where people had a given sense of propriety and good manners. Like most people, I really believe I was simply born in the wrong era, the wrong period of time. I am spoiled, yes, to the modern technologies of today's society. I go insane if I can't find my cell phone. I'm a film studies major for crying out loud! Most of my school work revolves around movies, a modern device of entertainment. I'm typing this on a laptop right now. What would I really do if I was dropped into a world of letter writing, cow milking, dancing and courting? Would I feel right at home or would I be utterly lost, like Leopold?

Parents bring their infants to restaurants only to have them scream and cry obnoxiously, disrupting everyone elses' meals around them.
People use swearing language in a formal classroom setting when the professor asks them a simple question.
We let any and every word that comes into our shallow-judgemental heads fly during arguments with the people we love the most.

Today I held the door open for a woman, a stranger, on my way out of school. She looked genuinely surprised at the courtesy. I just don't understand when and why people decided to stop being nice to each other. Man, woman, it doesn't matter. Why do we alienate ourselves? We depend on technology instead of each other. And when the technology fails, we become furious and we are short with the support people we call on the phone. Something has gone horribly wrong.

I want very much to be like the women of the past; sweet, sensible, supportive, and understanding. But because I am a woman of current times, I have more on my plate than the simple life. I have responsiblities all my own. Things are much more complicated. I suppose the goal in life today is to find the passions in your life that narrow the complex down to the bare essentials. Find a job, friends, lovers who make life feel simple for you. And in return, you can take a bit of their burden off of their back as well. If we all make the decision to be sweet, sensible, supportive and understanding...if we all make the decision to respect one another then imagine the impact we could make on the world as a whole. And hear I go, getting back up on my soap box again. Stepping down now.

Do unto others... that's not as easy as it sounds but it's not impossible. And for the record, I do not write all this in response to being a subject to disrespect. Not at all. Like always, simple observations. I want the best for all, not just myself.

Love is a battlefield.

As my head spins, I try to think about what’s really important in life. Each person on this earth is different, unique. Yet at the same time, we are all united by common principles. This includes things like emotions, loneliness, and simple geography. If you live in Circle Town all your life, you’re probably not going to have friends/fall in love/have to deal with people from Square City. And don’t even get me started on the kooks from Triangle Village. My point is, we all go through the same struggles in life. We each just experience them in different ways.

We will all have our hearts broken. That one seems to really stick out in my mind as a very common denominator for all. Heartache to heartache we stand. I’ll tell you a true story about me…

My first real crush occurred when I was about 5 or 6. I was in first grade. I won’t reveal his name, but ladies, this guy (from first grade until high school graduation) was a god. He was gorgeous. He was funny. He was athletic. He had lots of friends. He came from a good family. In short he was a golden boy. Everyone loved him, including me. I was absolutely smitten and convinced that we were going to get married and have many, many babies. Now this was not your normal, everyday playground crush. You know, the kind that lasts for two hours and then they shove you down in the sand box and then you switch to hating their guts. No. This was way deep for a 6 year old. This crush lasted until third grade. That’s two years! That’s a long time in little kid thinking. But alas, he was never mine. I had to move on.

And I still haven’t figured it out. And by it, I don’t mean golden boy. I mean relationships.

Pretty much since the first grade, I’ve asked myself the same question over and over: What the hell am I doing wrong here? And here? And here? And here? I’ve had people tell me and it freaking hurts. It hurts to be criticized when you are just being yourself. That’s why break ups are so hard. You share your life when someone, whether it’s for two weeks or two years, and then it ends and you’re left wondering what you did to make them not like you anymore. What changed? What happened? Was it all your fault? And how come they don’t see it the way you do?

Then yesterday I had an epiphany. I rarely have epiphanies so I knew I had to tell the world. Boys, girls, whoever is reading this… If you are in the same boat that I am…around the same age as me (early 20s), have a fair amount of confidence in yourself (your traits, your intelligence, your talents, etc.), and can’t seem to understand why it is that you can’t keep a relationship with the opposite sex afloat to save your life… well guess what?

People our age have no clue how to handle the opposite sex.

It’s that simple. We’re still young! We’re still learning! It finally dawned on me that I cannot beat myself up over each and every “failed” relationship I’ve ever had. I mean, there are people in their forties who still haven’t got it figured out. And it doesn’t matter which route your choose: casual dating, serious dating, one night stands, abstinence forever, all work and no play; whatever road you’re on, there be bumps ahead. And that goes for crushes too! Let me tell you an UNTRUE story about me…

Once upon a time there was a little girl named Melanie. She went to first grade, met her dream man, and he fell madly in love with her immediately. They grew up, stayed in love, got married, and had many, many babies. The End.

Oh, and I forgot to mention that nothing in her life ever changed. There were no bumps in the road to help her learn about the truths of life and she lived out all of her days in total ignorance of truth, beauty, freedom, and real love.

The fairy tale life is actually a philosophical tragedy.

At our age, heartbreak simply comes with the territory. I’m sorry to tell you this. And we will continue to get our hearts broken and break hearts until we get it right. Is this a happy process? Hell no. It sucks so much. It never get easier. It just is a little different each time it happens. We will all meet our “soul mates” at different times. There are people out there, believe it or not, who meet their soul mates in first grade. If you are reading this and you are one of those people, well la-dee-frickin-da to you, good sir or madam. We all kind of hate your guts. But we will never say it to your face. We do wish you well. (insert deep breath here) For the rest of us normal, flawed, and stupid homo-sapiens, we will have to wait. Some people never find it. Others find it at the most inconvenient times. Some are lucky and find it at the perfect time. They say when you meet the love of your life, you’ll just know. Every time I hear that I can’t help but think that it’s crap. It’s crap. But then I have to consider the other side. I’ve never “known,” no. But that does not mean that my true love does not exist. It just means I haven’t met him yet. Or at least never dated him/kissed him/considered him. Although I am fairly positive that I simply haven’t met him, one never can tell.

This is difficult to write because my friends will read this. Ex-boyfriends might read this. I’ve been paranoid for a long time that everyone I know secretly rolls their eyes at me. I’ve stopped caring. Of course I care about my friends, deeply. They are lights in my life. But I’m not caring anymore about people rolling their eyes at me. I am a person. I feel pain like you. I want what you want. I struggle with you. This war is ours to fight, as it has been for ages. But no armor will protect you from the pain, the humiliation, the seemingly life shattering heart breaks that we are all bound to experience. I’m realizing a lot of things about myself recently. Over the past few months, I have gotten to know myself better than I ever have been able to. Isn’t it funny how much of your soul you find when you aren’t even soul-searching? Know thyself. Get acquainted with you. Find out what you are really like as a grown person. Know what you are really looking for. It’s called maturity. I’m not lecturing, I swear. I’m just sharing what I’ve recently discovered. And I know that I’m not breaking new ground here. I’m just a girl who is really starting to grow up. Growing up is hard and I tear up a little as I write this. I think about me as a little girl. I would fly around and fall in love with these perfect little boys and pretend to be a cowgirl or a weather woman or a ballerina or a teacher or a mom or a famous movie star. I would go outside and sing at the top of my lungs. I was fearless then, as a child. Then growing up happens and suddenly you notice all these eyes on you and you stop being fearless. And then you notice the eyes turning away from you and you really start becoming afraid then. Life isn’t easy. Growing up and maturing as an adult is one of the hardest chapters in life. And life will continue to throw you curve balls. One after another. You will fall sometimes. You will fail sometimes. But remember something…

You will get up. And you will win. And you will fly again like you did in your childhood. And meeting the love of your life may have little to nothing to do with that. You are your own person. No one can put chains on you and pull you down if you don’t let them. Eleanor Roosevelt said “No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.” How true that statement is.

At our age (and I know I’ve said that a lot today) finding the missing puzzle piece to our individual beings may seem like trying to find a needle in a haystack, nearly impossible. No one, and especially not I, can blame you for feeling discouraged. It’s a hard knock life sometimes. But that puzzle piece might not be a person. Or rather, it might not be the person you think it is. Yes, we all deserve lovers. We all deserve soul mates. But I am a firm believer that puzzle pieces like that are not really puzzle pieces at all. We have to find completeness, wholeness on our own. And it’s all out there for the taking. Happiness, hopefulness, friendship, companionship, education, faith, family, wonder.

Wisdom is not easy to come by. That’s why we keep making choices that in the end we find were not exactly right. But it doesn’t mean we weren’t supposed to make them in the first place. I’m glad for every good, bad, right, wrong choice I’ve ever made because all those things, all those factors have shaped me into this person I am today. And at this moment, I am begging for God to keep shaping me. Teach me. Guide me.

I feel like I’ve wandered into a whole other realm of thought from which I started on today. But like I said my head was spinning a little. And I’m trying to focus on what counts. I guess to wrap up, don’t be afraid to love and to seek. Try to remember the bravery of childhood and embrace it as an adult. Know what you are searching for but search yourself first. You might be surprised how your destination will change along the way. And above all this, regret nothing. Hold no grudges. Just understand that we are all in the same boat, none above another, and no one really knows what they’re doing when it comes to love. But that’s not a tragedy. It is a fellowship. A big, messy, misunderstood fellowship. And honestly at this moment, knowing that, I feel comforted.

We are young. Heartache to heartache we stand. No promises, no demands. Love is a battlefield. And I say, bring it on.

Philippians 3:13-15

It's been a hard week.

On Monday, I lost my 14 year old Australian Shepard, Sky. I always called her "Sky Puppy." I got her the same month I started second grade. She was a six week old puppy when we got her at a pet store in Johnson City. She had a pretty bad case of Kennel Cough and the vet said that if we had not gotten her and treated her, she would have died within about two weeks. We saved her. And throughout her long life she had many near death experiences that always scared the bejeezus out of me. Like the time she bailed out of my dad's pickup truck going 30 mph. Or the time she ran/swam all the way across the Watauga River chasing a duck. Or the time she got outside the invisible electric fence and couldn't get back inside. Or all those cars she liked to chase. Or when she ran away from home for a few hours on the coldest night of the year. That one happened over Christmas Break this past year. I really thought I was going to lose her then. But no, my Sky Puppy was strong. She never let us spoil her too badly. She just loved us with every breath she took. She never hurt anyone. Everyone she met absolutely fell in love with her. She was a wonderful dog and I was...am... very, very proud to call her mine. She was my best friend, my playmate. Never left my side. So smart and so beautiful. I loved her very much (as if you couldn't see that). I know everyone (generally) loves their pets but I like to think what I had with my Sky Puppy was special and rare. I'll miss her everyday.

Losing this pet has been like losing a member of my family. It's so strange to not see her everyday, not hear her little bark. It's like there is an empty spot.

A couple of weeks ago, my mom's best friend passed away. A couple of days ago, my best friend told me that her uncle was in a bad motorcycle accident and that he needed surgery. She said it wasn't serious but that is still scary. Today, one of my other very good friends told me that her aunt had passed away. I feel like this week, I am reminded that grief and sadness are very real things. My dad told me that we should always remember those who have passed but we must continue to focus on the living. For my family, it just means giving our other dog, Zebo, lots of extra love and affection. For other families who are suffering, it's harder. Grief is a terrible thing to go through but we all must face the music at some point in our lives. I am a very lucky girl because losing Sky was really the first time in my life I've ever lost anything (pet, person, anything) that was close to me. All of my grandparents are still living. My parents are in great health. I've never lost a close friend by death. I am extremely fortunate and I thank God and count my blessings daily. Sometimes I forget how good I've got it.

I've tried to comfort friends in the past who have lost parents, pets, friends, and other things. I never quite knew the words to say. I couldn't relate. I know that was selfish of me in a way but what can you really say to make pain like that go away or even subside for a while? Nothing. You can't say a thing to make it better. But that doesn't mean you have to fall silent. You can rub their backs, tell them you are there, and pray like crazy. Prayer heals. It's been the Band-Aid on many a situations of sorrow in my life, including this week.

I know I get angry and sad and curse the world and the people in it sometimes. But I'm only human. I heard a sermon on Sunday that was one of those sermons that I felt was speaking directly toward me. But strangely enough, it wasn't a "you're doing everything wrong, fix yourself or you're going to hell" kind of sermon. No. It was about the healing power of putting the past behind you. The pastor said we all have a past. We all have pain in our past. God has forgiven us and continues to forgive us if we ask him. Now it's up to us to move on. We cannot live in our pasts. God wants us to put the past behind us so we can focus on the present and our future. It was so comforting to hear that that was God's command for His people. He didn't say "never burn bridges" or "make everybody like you." He commanded us to love our neighbors, forgive, and rejoice in His holy name. And from now on, I want to do just that.

Heart break and rough times are behind. They are always ahead. But I am not afraid. Everything I've been through and everything I have yet to experience has shaped me and will shape me into the woman that God wants, needs, commands me to be. I am flawed but He know this and He loves me anyway, unconditionally. I do not deserve it but I accept His love wholeheartedly.

Look back at a post of mine entitled "Waffles can cure anything." There's a story there about a good friend of mine whose heart was broken. When he cried, the rain came down. The day Sky died, a storm blew through the neighborhood. It wasn't a violent, crazy, scary kind of thunderstorm. It was a slow, heavy drizzle with strong breezes and distant, low thunder. It was a sad storm. It was a heart breaking storm. I'll repeat what I said in that previous post.

When our heart is breaking, so is God's. He feels pain with us. He knows our hearts better than we do. He loves us. All of us. Despite our pasts. Let us give thanks for our lives, the people (and pets in my case presently) who have blessed us, and the promise for a bright and hopeful future ahead.

When peace like a river attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll,
Whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say
It is well, it is well with my soul