Halloween night for us is a tradition. We hole up in the basement with Nana and Papa, do a craft, have dinner, and watch a movie. Tonight, we had pizza, pumpkin pie and apple cider (and added donuts, courtesy of Nana, because we needed more sugar.) We made pomander balls (the orange thing with the cloves and ribbon and stuff.) They smell really good. Me and Abby played Stratego while everyone else watched Toot and Puddle, a pig Christmas movie. Abby won. After that, we watched Charlie Brown Christmas, and now I'm upstairs blogging. We try to make Halloween a fun time, where we hide away from the trick-or-treaters and have our own little fall festival in the basement. Tomorrow we're heading up to Estas Park as another tradition and we're going to see Cameo and Ivy and Mrs. Lurie (I think that's how it's spelled:) I'll make sure to take pictures and elaborate more tomorrow.
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Problems gain as much weight as you give them. Where David saw the giant, everyone else ran, but David said, “Can't miss.” Pastor Conicious (I know I spelled it wrong. I can't remember how it was spelled.) sat at the head of the table, in his wheelchair, telling a story. He hadn't touched his meal, busy telling us about his childhood in Uganda. We were at a mountain lodge with Mom's friend, Debbie, and her husband, Matt, and their son, Daniel, and Pastor Conicious. That man is an inspiration. He's gone through so much that, you're listening to him thinking, “Man, I've got to be more thankful for what I've got.” When he was seven years old, he was on the way home through the jungles of Uganda when a puff adder bit him. Now just to give you an idea, puff adders inject more venom than any other snake in the world. Grown men die within hours and he was two miles from home, in the middle of the jungle and it started to rain. He said that he had to crawl and it was raining so hard that the path became like a river and he was holding onto a tree trunk to keep from being swept away by the current. His father, about one mile away heard him finally, screaming for help and carried him home. It was during a civil war in Uganda, so the roads weren't safe and the hospital was 80 miles away. So, he stayed home for 3 weeks before it was getting too much, (he said that the flesh was literally rotting and there were maggots eating away at his flesh. I'm not going to go into too much detail, because it disgusted me.) and his dad said, “If I die, I'm going to die trying to save him.” So he took Conicious in a bike, to the hospital 80 miles away and he barely survived. For you all who live in Florissant/Divide/Woodland Park area, just to put that in perspective, that's like biking from your house to Denver. I can hardly bike around our neighborhood hood twice without nearly dying (yes, I know. I need to get in better shape:) After two months in the hospital, they managed to get all the poison out of him. He went home and right after that, got measles and almost died from that. He said maybe four months after that, he got polio, a disease that left him crippled. After he got over that, he couldn't walk. So, he put rubber boots on his knees, to protect them, and crawled nearly two miles to school, learned, crawled two miles back, changed his clothes and crawled two miles to church and back. And I think of how sometimes on Sunday morning, I'm like, “It's too cold. I'm too tired. I really don't feel like going to church today and being social.” I got the feeling that was only part of his story. I really want to hear the rest. “Everyone has a story to tell, even when you think that it's not important.” There was one story he told to give an example of this. He was living at an orphanage and he had hiked to this big city and saved up enough money to buy himself a fancy pair of pants. They were a little too big for him, he realized when he got home, so he sent them to a tailor for him to bring them in a little. When he got them back, the man had cut them into shorts. He said that he was really mad and he asked God why he would let that happen. He told this story at a church he preached at and he said a woman had her hair cut badly by this hair stylist and she was prepared to never forgive him, and he helped her realize that she didn't need to hold on to little things.
He was talking about how he blamed God for his polio. "Why God?" He'd ask. "Why do I have to be crippled?" He said that one day he saw a man who was crippled and disfigured, begging for money on the streets, and he asked himself, "Why are you not begging on the streets?" And he realized that wherever you have suffering, someone is suffering more. He was an inspiration and he had an impeccable memory. Holy cow. He was talking about when he was eight and he got polio in September on a Friday. How do you remember that? Anyway, I had a great time listening to his stories and this post is going on way too long, so I'll finish it up. I was working at GEM (Greater Europe Missions) today. This week I promised myself I was going to bring my iPod so I could have music instead of three hours of silence. So, I put it in my pocket so I wouldn't forget it. Right before we left, as I was putting on my shoes and noticed that the hem of my pants look like a homeless person's pants (I'd cut off the bottoms because they were shredded). So, I raced upstairs to change them. I got to GEM and realized my iPod was in the pants I'd changed out of. It snowed for the first time today and I promised myself I'd write down this song when it snowed for the first time. Happy start of winter! There's the snow! Look out below and bundle up, cause here it comes. Run outside! So starry eyed. A snowball fight breaks out and winter has finally begun! I twirl through the driveway with angelic grace, till I slip on the sidewalk and fall on my face! The snowflakes start falling and I start to float till my mean older brother stuffs snow down my shirt. I rip off the wrapping and tear through the box till I end up with 45 new pairs of socks. This peppermint winter is so sugar sweet. I don't need to taste to believe. All this holiday cheer. Heaven knows where it goes but it returns every year. And though this winter does nothing but storm, the joy in my heart is ablaze and it's keeping me warm! My cousins are terrified of him, Emma thinks he's scary, Abby thinks he's freaky. The Sticker Man. At Walmart. He's the older man who hands out smiley face stickers to the kids as they come in. He does his job well, just a little too well. As in, he won't let a kid pass unless they have a sticker on his or her hand.
Abigail (my 11-yr-old cousin) was in Walmart and he wanted to give her a sticker. "See, it's a Mom Wow sticker," he said. "Look. It says Wow, but when you turn it over it says Mom. You want it?" "No, thanks," Abigail says. And he sticks it on her nose. Me and Emma were walking across the store, rushing, because we were late in meeting Mom at the front. We had passed him (he was passing out lollipops) and refused a lollipop. He shouted after us, "Are you sure you don't want a lollipop?!" Waving a dum-dum. We were maybe a quarter of the way across the store by then. "No, thank you!" We call over our shoulders. I'm so going to write a kids story about this. The Sticker Man. You know you've got a writer's brain when you get inspired by a preschool show. *Facepalm* I have the skill of taking things out of context. Okay, so the kids are watching Peep and the Big Wide World. It's a PBS kids series about three birds (a duck, a chick and a red baby bird). They like exploring the big, wide world and figuring things out like how caterpillars turn into butterflies and they meet other animals like beavers, turtles, mice, etc.
So, there's this episode where Beaver Boy is about to chew down his first tree and he accidently almost smashes his parents and his friends. So, the next time he's going to try, his parents are telling him that maybe he shoudn't do it. So, (hang in with me here) I thought, what if there was a person had always failed at this one thing, and so when lives hung at stake, he had the chance to try again, but everyone was begging him not to do it, because he had always failed before, but he had to try again anyway. And this time he succeeds. So, you see how that works? Watching Liam and Ella do the Virginia Reel is hilarious. Tonight I was helping Dad with the kids and they weren't allowed to watch movies, so we did a mini ball. Ella's been sad that she's not old enough to go to the Christmas Ball this year, and so we hosted a small one in our living room. (Right before, Liam asked me, "How do you play the ball?") Me and Ella dressed up in fancy dresses. We did the Cha Cha Slide, the Virginia Reel, the I-can't-remember-what-it's-called and a couple of VBS songs. I was Liam's partner in the Virginia Reel. He had no idea what he was doing. And he's half my size, so to swing elbows with him, I had to crouch. Then we'd dose-doe (I think that's how you spell it) and I'd finish and look over and he's dose-doeing around Ella and Dad. It was pretty adorable.
I've always wanted to be a mad professor with a bottle-nosed dolphin I could name Sylvester. If that's the kind of think you're into, I'm your girl. 'Cause I've been looking for an evil genius with a sidekick dog named Grover Cleaveland and now that I've found you, we can take over the world with Cyborg robot squirrels. Abby's always telling me that I get the strangest songs stuck in my head. Here's one:) Another few examples are Wagon Wheel, Georgia Peaches, Eighteen Inches, Panda Bear, Ooh Ahh, #putyourloveglasseson (so annoying), 3000 miles (love that song:).
Today I started an internship at GEM (Greater Europe Missions). It's basically an organization that trains and sends people on missions trips to places all over the world. I may not be able to continue because of my not being 18 and all, but that's being figured out. So, yeah. Basically from 2 to 5 I went through the email archives of about 30 people and made sure all their files were printed and in a manilla folder. I printed applications, recommendations, insurance forms, etc and filed them under the correct names. It was fun for the first two hours and then I was ready to leave. If I'd brought music, it would have been so much more interesting. So, I'm tired and I've got a slight headache, but, hey, you need to learn how to do stuff like this. At some point in your life you're going to have to do something like this.
I found a great teen writer's resource. It's a website, made by Christian authors Jill Williamson and Stephanie Morrill. It's all about guiding teen authors into being published. It's amazing. It's called goteenwriters.blogspot.com I bought my dress for the Christmas ball today. It was 18$ at Goodwill. It's yellow, and it looks almost like a mix between Southern Belle and Beauty and the Beast. It's beautiful. Today I met my cousin's girlfriend for the first time. She's very nice and she's perfect for him. She likes to hunt, she's a Christian, she plays music. Just saying, something may happen sometime in the future with them two. :) I'm taking out the "My Stories" section, because I'm worried about all that being on the internet. If any of you are interested in any of the stories that I'm talking about, you can email me, and I'll send it to you.
Next spring, there will be a Teen Author's Boot Camp for teens 13-19. You pay 49$, if you register before February 1st, 69$ if you pay afterward. It's a one day event, on April 11 in Orem, Utah. It's also going to be conjoined with another major writer's conference July 23rd, in St. Louis, Missouri. You get a tshirt, drawstring backpack, bottomless soda, lunch, and a snack, etc. There will be twenty-five authors who will be there and a couple will be speaking.
They also have a first chapter contest judged by professional authors. You submit your first chapter before the conference, and the top ten receive full chapter critiques. The top three receive cash prizes and a plaque created by the artist of the Iron Man suit. Gosh, this sounds so fun. I really want to go and my mom's interested in it as well. One of my favorite authors, Jill Williamson will be teaching a class there. Here's the link to the website, if you're interested! This computer is being stupid, so it just hyperlinked the whole paragraph. Sorry:) Please be praying for my great Uncle Epiphano. He's around 70 and he was just diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. And we're not sure whether or not he knows and loves God. I've been listening to Fireflight lately. They're a Christian rock band. I love the lyrics in their songs. They're inspiring. Here are a couple. Another day, another waiting game. A little different but it's still the same. I am here, but where's the one I'm longing for? I'm having trouble feeling all alone. Will my heart ever find a home? I want to hope but sometimes I just don't know...Just know there is a purpose for those who wait. He sees you, He's near you. He knows your face. He knows your pain. He sees you, and He loves you. He knows your name. I'm not what I have done. I'm what I've overcome. I love this music video for some reason.
Close your tired eyes, relax and then, count from one to ten and open them....when the sun goes down and the lights burn out, then it's time for you to shine brighter than a shooting star. Shine no matter where you are. Fill the darkest night with a brilliant light, cause it's time for you to shine brighter than a shooting star. As you leave Colorado Springs and get closer and closer to Black Forest, the glow of the city beginning to diminish, stars begin to appear, twinkling to life one by one, brightest to dimmest. "Like a jack-in-the-box," Ella observed. Light up the sky...to show me you are with me. I...can't deny...that you are right here with me. You've opened my eyes, so I can see you all around me. Light up the sky...to show me that you are with me. So, after the hassle of finding Apple Cider cups and spreading out a huge blanket on the gravel where the living room used to be, we're staring up at the stars. Finding imaginary constellations (because none of us know where they are). Calling out shooting stars. Enjoying the stars in the middle of a burnt forest. Finding light in the midst of darkness. Bringing beauty from ashes. Stars. In your multitudes. Scarce to be counted. Filling the darkness with order and light. You are the sentinels. Silent and sure. Keeping watch in the night. You know your place in the sky. You hold your course and your aim. And each in your season returns and returns and is always the same. When you're looking at the stars, imagining the sky as a dome around you, it makes them seem almost touchable, like you could leap up and grab them. All you can see is the sea of stars disappearing over the edge of the treeline. You're in your own little universe, and for the moment, that's all that exists. Where silence has a sound These are some pictures that Dad took. It was beautiful, albeit cold. Very inspirational. I say this a lot, but this is going into a story some day.
A good friend of mine, Cameo, wrote this poem, and I wanted to share it. It almost made me cry. Friends remind me of, I don't like this song, but the lyrics caught my attention. I just couldn’t bear the thought of I had an amazing sleepover with Rachel last night. We made ourselves Pumpkin Spice Lattes and sat on the front porch watching the rain come down and listening to Christmas music and talking. We then went out for Chinese food and got some snacks at King Soopers. After we got home, we taught each other dances, the Cha Cha, the Cuban Shuffle and then attempted the Hebrew Circle Dance (it's hard to do with two people, just so you know, in case you ever want to try it) and the Cha Cha Slide as well as the Virginia Reel. Right in front of the huge window that faces the street. So anyone passing by would think we were insane, seeing us trip and fall over laughing at our mistakes. We curled up in the living room with huge blankets, chips and chocolate-covered pomegranate seeds and watched I Love Lucy until 10:45 when we both fell asleep on the living room floor. Thanks for the great time, Rachy:)
For all you who don't know, we own a vacation rental up in the mountains. Sometimes I just want to go into the mind of the renters and see what they were thinking. That time when they switched the desks in the two downstairs bedrooms. Rearranged the furniture. Tied sheets to the curtain rods. Put the PS2 consuls in the linen closet. Carried the TV upstairs as well as the VHS player, moving one of the desks from the master bedroom and transferring half of the movies into the dresser drawers. It's kind of fun and frustrating to speculate on what the story is behind those people.
I wanna be so far gone in you. So far nothing else will ever do. I wanna be so far gone in you. I wanna be lost in you, like a ship in the night. I wanna get lost in you, underneath your sky. Here I am, down on my knees again, surrendering all... We live less than the time it takes to blink an eye, if we measure our lives against eternity...What does it mean to have to suffer so much if our lives are nothing more than a blink of an eye?...I learned a long time ago...that the blink of an eye in itself is nothing. But the eye that blinks, THAT is something. A span of life is nothing. But the man that lives that span, HE is something. He can fill that span with meaning so that its quality is immeasurable, though the quantity may be insignificant. ~The Chosen (Reuven's dad) I thought this was an adorable poem that Ella wrote. She was very happy when I said I wanted to post it on my blog. Time is different |
About Me!Hannah writes to satisfy her imagination. She's written six books so far--five of which need to be rewritten--and is working on a seventh. She ranges through a variety of genres, but favors contemporary YA, fixing broken characters. She wants to use her writing to change people and bring hope. She's currently going to college for Nursing and that takes up most of her writing time. She's a rather stereotypical writer, talking to imaginary friends, eavesdropping on people at the store, secretly being nosy, stashing herself away in her room with a paper and pen and chocolate and her teddy bear. She loves Jesus, the way the morning smells, her family of seven (four siblings), old movies, fairy tales, candles at night and helping people. She writes on another blog at nerdywriter.blogspot.com to hopefully build her chances of publication. My Author Site:Archives
December 2016
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