Posted in Stories

Dear God…

When I was only five years old, my parents bought me my very first journal, or diary as I liked to call it back then. It was pink and purple and had Minnie Mouse on the cover. It quickly became one of my most prized possessions. However, I didn’t quite understand the concept of dating my entries…so instead of writing the month, day, and year at the top of the page, I wrote the name of my kindergarten boyfriend, since he was my “date” at that point in my life.

Nevertheless, I wrote in that journal all the time. And then when I filled that one up, I bought another one, this time one with a lock and key, because my middle school secrets needed the extra protection, obviously. (Insert eye roll here.)

It didn’t take long before I filled up that journal. And then another one. And another. Everywhere I went I had at least one journal (or three) with me at all times.

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Posted in Randomness, Stories

Hold My Hand

I have a confession to make. You’re probably going to make fun of me when I say this, but I don’t really care because I’m not going to change.

I am a Nicholas Sparks FANATIC. 

I have read every single book he’s ever written (except the newest one I was saving for my trip to the beach this weekend.) And I have seen every single movie that has been derived from his books, to the point where I can annoyingly quote them whenever I decide to watch one.

With that being said, you can imagine how skewed my expectations of love were for the longest time. Mr. Sparks definitely sets the bar high when it comes to romance and “relationships”, if that’s what you want to call what happens in his books. But a little over three years ago, something happened that made me take a step back and examine my outlook on love.

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Posted in Randomness, Stories

Never Say Never

Disclaimer: I promise this has absolutely nothing to do with the Justin Bieber song.

I remember the day like it was yesterday. It was my first “big girl job” (aka, I wasn’t working at an ice cream shop anymore). I was the marketing assistant for a small business located down the road from where I was going to college. But I wasn’t just the marketing assistant. I was also the office custodian, which is absolutely hilarious if you know me personally. I hate to clean. I hate it with a passion. And yet it had somehow become part of my job description. Suddenly I was starting to miss the ice cream shop.

On this one particular day, I had locked myself in the women’s bathroom, partly so I could clean it and partly because I wanted to just be alone for a little while (introvert probs). And as I was cleaning one of the toilets, I started to pray. And by pray, I mean tell God how upset I was with what my life looked like at that very moment.

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Posted in Stories

Perseverance: An office chair, a broken face, and a 12-year dream

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sit down at the right hand of the throne of God.” – Hebrews 12:1-2

When I read these verses, the first word I notice is perseverance, which is defined as “steadfastness in doing something despite difficulty or delay in achieving success.” Paul is explaining in this passage that we are to exercise perseverance by finishing the race we are called to run. We do this by focusing on Jesus and the reward He promises, rather than being set back by the obstacles and struggles we may face along the way. And when I think about this kind of perseverance, I think about my little brother, Brett.

Brett is probably the most strong-willed, goal-oriented, and motivated person I’ve ever met. When he sets his mind to something, there is absolutely nothing you can do to get in his way, especially when it comes to basketball. Calling him a gym rat doesn’t even do him justice. The kid used to sleep with his basketball for crying out loud. 

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Posted in Stories

Lord I Love You But…

Stories. Everyone has them. Love stories. Funny stories. Sad stories. Family stories. Old stories. New stories. Long stories. Short stories. And then there are the stories that aren’t quite finished yet. That’s where I am right about now. At 30,000 feet, I’m somewhere over Mississippi (which is the farthest west I’ve ever been by the way), and in about three and a half hours, I’ll be landing in Los Angeles, California, my home for the six weeks. Yeah, you heard me. Six weeks. You can imagine the nightmare it was for me to pack for this trip. But before I tell you why I’m going to LA this summer, I should probably back up to where my yet-to-be-finished story begins.

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