Happy birthday, Mom. I love you so much and I can't even begin to explain where I'd be without you. You are amazing and words cannot even describe everything I want to say. You're a writer. You know how inadequate words can be to say what you're feeling. I love the way I can always count on you to talk to me when I need it. I love your laughter. I love the way you're always willing to help me with school. I love talking writing with you. I love coming out of school and seeing your face (and everyone else's as well, but I figured this letter is to you, so I'd mention you first. :P). It makes my day every time. You make our house a home. You always make sure I'm doing okay and help me to make it through these chaotic college courses. You're always here for me. You're a talented writer, a wonderful mother, a beautiful woman and a great teacher.
I wish there were more words to describe what I'm feeling, but I suppose these will have to do. I love you so much and thank you for being you. Happy 21st birthday. :)
0 Comments
Staircases come in all different shapes and sizes. Sometimes it’s a single step, carrying you to a known place a half foot above where you are now. It’s a small step and it’s easy. Sometimes there are hundreds of steps curling around and around and around themselves to an unknown high in the rafters above your heads. Every step in and of itself is easy, but put together they form a nearly insurmountable problem. The first ones are easy and then slowly your feet grow heavier with each time they lift and you begin to wonder if it would just be easier to turn back. You could stay at the bottom where it’s easy and you didn’t have to work to get to where you’re going. Sometimes you give in. And sometimes you don’t. Sometimes you push through and emerge at the top to see everything around you, spread at your feet, paying homage. You stand on top of your problem, and it stays below you, defeated. Sometimes staircases are mysterious, turning around corners to who-knows-where, ducking out of sight under broken steps and it’s an adventure not for the faint of heart. And again, you have the decision of staying put and staying safe. Or going forward and risk the danger, but potentially find something valuable at the end. Something you would not have found had you not tried. And you’re no longer afraid. But then there are those staircases that trip up your feet and you fall. Skid down several before getting your grip and heaving your aching body to its feet again to find that hidden treasure at the end.
Please be praying:
I have a cousin named Matthew and he was admitted to the ICU last night with a case of pneumonia. They think he had a potentially fatal reaction to his medication. He's only sixteen, just a little older than me. Apparently he's doing a little better, and talking and eating. This is the second time he's been in the hospital for this, though. Just please be praying for his healing. I had a dream the other night that the world was ending. The sky was going dark and the wind was whipping up. I was in a park, I think, and I panicked. 'The world can't end now,' I thought. 'I haven't done anything for God. I have plans. I was going to do great things for him.' Have you ever thought of that? What would happen if the world ended tomorrow and I'd done nothing? I'd just sat around waiting to grow up so I could do something for God when I was "old enough?" How could I stand before God and tell him that I, procrastinator that I am, had done nothing? There's a story in 1st Samuel 14, where Israel is hiding from the Philistines in caves. They're on one side of a ravine and the Philistines are on the other. Now Jonathon, the king's son, tells his armor bearer, "Let's go up to the Philistines and perhaps God will deliver them into our hands." So they went. Just the two of them, and they attacked the Philistines and they were victorious. For, Jonathon said, "After all, nothing can stop the LORD from saving, whether there are many soldiers or few" (1 Samuel 14:6). There's nothing stopping me. I can do something. I don't have to worry about whether or not I will have anything to report to God. Oftentimes, though when I try to do something for God, I get afraid. And then I rationalize with God. Come up with a bunch of reasons why I can't do this one thing. I'm too busy. I'm late. What if they think I'm weird? And I end up copping out. Our pastor today said, "Stop counting your swords." Sometimes I just need to remind myself that nothing can stop God from doing his will whether it's through little ol' me or through a huge group of spiritually mature people. God can. And he will... IF I'm willing to obey and quit waiting to grow up. Don't believe it when they say, "You're just a fool to believe you can change the world." Ella posed this question today. "Why do we get an opportunity and God loses it?" Some things didn't work out like we'd planned. We were thought we knew what God wanted of us and we were ready to trust him and go the way he was supposedly pointing. And then...it was gone. It wasn't to be. And maybe it's accepting God's answer that takes the most trust. But that's what he wants us to do. Maybe it was just that he was waiting to see if we really would go wherever he called. He has a bigger plan and we just have to wait and see. It's like a switchback trail. You have to wait until you get there to see what's right in front of you until you round the curve and you can see a bit more. Jesus said to them, "Most assuredly, I say to you, before Abraham was, I am." Notice the verb tense. Before Abraham was, I am. God is eternal. He sees everything like a map in front of him. He sees your past and future. Your life is like a book. Everything is there at the same time, it just matters what time you are reading in. (Stole that idea from Emma:). Ever pray for the movie to end the way you want it to? And then you wake yourself up and remind yourself that, oh right, the end has already been determined. So what is there to be worried about, right? I wrote a post a while ago on trust. I described trust in a story of when my Dad would hold our arms and we would lean out over the river and Abby would always go further and I couldn't because I was too afraid. I actually found pictures of it here. I've got to learn to trust. I've got to live to the fullest. I've got to embrace my life while I have it. I've got to know that God won't let me fall. I've got to let that air rush around my face. I've got to feel that adrenaline pumping through my veins. And not put God in the box of my own planning. Can't wrap my mind around you When you think things are bad, Remember those days when you'd get up at six thirty, get all your school done before breakfast and then spend the rest of the day playing dolls? Or the times when you would spend hours playing outside, making forts and not worrying about anything? Or the times when you had to take a nap and it was such an inconvenience because it was so boring? Or the times when Mom would make you sit still with a book. And you had a whole hour of reading? But you didn't cherish it, because there were other things that you'd rather do? Or the days when you didn't have to worry about budgeting your time because your mom did that all for you? When you didn't have to work a twelve hour day just to get a third of your assignment done--for only one of your subjects?
Sometimes I just want to be a kid again. Sometimes I wish I didn't have to precisely schedule in time for the things I love, like writing and reading my Bible. Sometimes I wish I could take a break without wondering how it will affect my work load. Sometimes I want to just read in the middle of the day and get sucked in for an hour or two. Sometimes I just want to tell my sisters I can play a game with them. Sometimes I wish I still had evenings to myself where I can watch romantic comedies and 50's sitcoms, instead of studying until bedtime at 9:30 when I should go straight to sleep so I can get up and do it all again tomorrow. When I was a kid I always wanted to grow up. Twelve was the target age and after that, sixteen. I could get my driver's license and I could be practically an adult. I'd be in highschool, for crying out loud! I would be able to do anything. Now that it's here, sometimes it doesn't feel so glamorous. So maybe I'm complaining a little, but now I'm going to focus on good things, because I'm loving the wonderful aspects of this age. The parts where I get to drive down my first highway, with my dad tensing in the passenger's seat when I hit 65 miles per hour in a 55 mph zone because I crested the hill going 55, but now, descending I'm going too fast, because I forgot to watch the speedometer. The parts where I get to go to college and feel like an adult. The parts where I get to possess pepper spray. The parts when I get addressed as 'ma'am' or 'miss.' The parts where my parents say, 'Well, you're sixteen now. You can make your own decision.' The part where I can get a second piercing. The parts when I can fill out job applications. The parts when people start to take me seriously. The parts where I can walk to the store by myself. Some days I just need to focus on the good things. Like the way my mom looks when she thinks something's hilarious. The way my little brother pokes his head out the door just to say he loves me. The way my dad bandages up my elbow because I scraped it on some glass (don't ask). The way my family can make me laugh no matter what. Do you suppose we were an accident? A big explosion that somehow created life? And then evolved to more and more complex beings? Look at this picture. Guess what it is. It's a section of the small intestine. Click on the picture and study all the different structures. See all those spots, those are individual cells. And guess what's in every individual cell. Organelles and millions of nucleotides making up the DNA that makes you, you. So now, let me ask you again. Do you suppose we were an accident? A big explosion that somehow created life? And then evolved to more and more complex beings? Now this isn't going to be a rant against evolution or anything. I've got to go to bed soon, so it'll be short. The picture to the right has three different types of tissue. I won't bother to name them, because they're long an complicated. In short, this is skin. These are only two organs in your entire body. There are eleven organ systems with several organs in each. Each organ is made up of several tissues, and each tissue, millions of cells. Each cell, billions s of atoms. A different question: Do you suppose a God so attentive to detail would forget about you? The Lord looks from heaven; He sees all the sons of men. From the place of His dwelling He looks on all the inhabitants of the earth; He fashions their hearts individually; He understands all their works. I am a song.
What time I play is up to me. I song can reach a whole wide world. A song can be muted. A song can change a person's mind. A song can be hated. A few simple words can change a whole perspective. A handful of notes can breathe life. My song will be a world-changer. My song will not be silenced. My song is one of victory. My song is one of rescue. And above all, my song will be A love song to my Savior. by: Hannah De Gracious, I feel so old saying that. :) So, of course, I was the picture of sophisticated grace yesterday. Not.
A couple of funny stories that I give you permission to laugh at: Story #1: So, not rechecking the room where ENG 121 was a major mistake. Me and my mom had gotten the room wrong and scrutinized the map for room E108. So, thinking I have this all together, I walk down the east wing into room E108. Sit down in the front of the class. The professor sets his hands on a book and looks over the class. "So, we're all here for PHYCH 235, right? Make sure we're all on the same page?" Me: "Isn't this ENG121?" Him: "Ah, no." Random student: "Maybe in the west wing?" Me: "Maybe." And I leave, double checking my schedule. W113. Totally different. Second chance. I find it. Story #2: E109. That's my room number. So, I go into the wing, supposedly the east wing. There's no one, except a girl, sitting on a table. Her: Are you looking for something? Me: W109? Her: Ah, it's there. It's the mens bathroom. Ah ha. Why the number the bathrooms, I don't know. Me: Thanks. I think I got the wrong wing. And I'm thinking. "Again." And hiking across the campus with your backpack unzipped doesn't work too well. :) Oh, and tips to people trying to be graceful in school, don't get a Heath bars. As heavenly delicious as they are (my favorite candy), you sort of have to gnaw on them. Like a chipmunk. In the middle of the cafeteria. Yeah, funny first day. I go again tomorrow. Got loads of homework from my Biology teacher who happens to be almost 70 and looks 50 (really creepy). I'd say, not typical. And I'm typing this at close to midnight so if I'm rambling, ignore me. So, ah, a well deserved good night. So, I was babysitting my siblings and they were watching WordWorld. It's a PBS show about animals who live in a world where you build words that turn into things. For example, combine the letters a, n and t and you get an ant. That's beside the point. Anyway I was babysitting and this episode came on called... I began to make it this whole writing lesson in my head. So, bear with me here. Ants are small, right? In this episode, the ant was discouraged because he was so small and he couldn't do anything. He was vulnerable. He discovered if he added a gi- to himself, he would become a giant. And he became a giant. He was invincible. But there was still that 'ant' part in him.
Do you see where I'm going with this? Every character, no matter how successful he gets, or how invincible he appears, should have an ant inside them. The one venerable part that makes them human. It makes them relatable and hopefully, makes your reader fall in love. You want your book to be the one your reader throws across the room and says, "If anything happens to this character, I'm going to find the author and kill her." And then they pick it up again and keep reading, because they can't stand to put it down. My main character just recently marveled how easy it is to fall in love in a short amount of time. And a couple of days ago, I experienced this. There's something awesome you can experience when you go somewhere quiet and just listen for God's voice. Laying on the grass in the park, watching the leaves of the tree kiss the clouds. Just being quiet and listening for his voice in the wind. I saw a part of God that's different than I usually imagine. He was like a little boy in love, showing off all those things he made for me. Just for me. Trying to impress me. "Do you feel the wind? See, I made it. Just for you. Do you feel the grass blanketing you under your quilt? I made it grow. Just for you. Look at the mountains. See that? I made that beautiful. Just for you." And I feel his love surrounding me. He loves me. The God of the universe loves me. The being who can fit our galaxy and all the galaxies we cannot even begin to imagine in the palm of his hand. He. Loves. Me. When you experience that, there's nothing you can do but fall in love. Don't be scared. It's only love, baby, that we're falling in. "Look into His face. His eyes are like fire. His voice is like many waters. He is seated at the right hand of the Father." What does it mean to give everything to God? I've struggled with this. I say with my mouth that I surrender, but how do I surrender in actuality? Something about walking into the throne room of heaven and seeing the Lord awakens something in you. I looked on Him and realized how unworthy I really was to be in His presence. I couldn't look at Him and I felt the need to kneel, to show Him just how worthy He is and how unworthy I am. How on earth would I ever be able to enter heaven with all my shortcomings? I've thought in the past, that it's not like I do terrible things. But when I was there, everything was equal. I noticed everything I didn't do right and I was ashamed. I was dirty. I was too unworthy to be in His presence. But He stood as I came in. He walked to where I was and knelt next to me. He grabbed my hands and pulled me to my hands and I was forgiven. You know the verse, 'If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me.' (Luke 9:23) I look at the cross reference and it directs me to 2nd Timothy 3 where Paul is detailing out good things that he tries to embody and I'm thinking there's no way I could do that. And in that moment, I discovered, that's the point. That's the point. That we can't do it on our own. But God can. And that's the way to give everything, realize there's absolutely no way to do it out your own and let God do it, because He can. Okay, so here's another award! Thanks, Liddy. I love these things;) So, this is how you do it:
For the facts.... 1. I'm a very proud nerd. In a science-y, writer-y way. When I can see how the world works perfectly and how everything makes sense, it just makes me incredibly happy. 2. I wish I could sing....I can carry a tune, but that's about it... 3. Slightly schizophrenic. Sometimes I have this shocking moment when I have to force myself to realize that my imaginary friends aren't real. *sob* 4. I had no idea how to spell schizophrenic before I checked spell-check... 5. I have a teddy bear that I still sleep with. His name is Chris and he's fluffy and cozy and he's my link to sanity when my school is getting too much. I just cuddle him and eat Twix and I'm okay to continue on. My great grandma gave him to me a couple of months ago and I named him after my character who died. I was still grieving at the time when I named him...He's actually the only stuffed animal I own, since all my other ones were in the house that burned down. Isn't he cute? 6. I have an incurable sweet-tooth. Which isn't exactly ideal when I'm not technically supposed to have sugar...hehehe...sorry Dr. Jenn... 7. I'm an introvert. I love talking to people, but I can't instigate conversation so sometimes I end up staring awkwardly at the person and our conversation goes something like this. Me: Hi. Them: Hi. Me: How are you? Them: Good. How are you? Me: Good. *Silence* Me: Hi. Plus, socializing drains me. 8. I love words. Did you know that esperance means hope? I used chagrin in a sentence and people looked at me strange... 9. I'm a romantic. I dream of a guy sweeping me off my feet. I can't wait to get married and have children, but don't worry Mom and Dad. I'm waiting for the right person. Although I have swooned over a couple of fictional characters.... 10. I'm kind of OCD. Both Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and Obsessive Character Development. I like things straight, balanced, even, etc. It really bothers me that there are 11 facts. Why not 10? That's a nice even number, right? 11. I decided not to mention that I love to write and read, obsessively, because I figured that everyone knows that about me.... 11 questions to answer: 1. What book ending are you most disappointed with? The only ending I can think of that I've been disappointed with is Beauty Sleep by: Cameron Dokey. Seriously, she married her cousin? That just perpetually disturbed me. There are other books that I feel left things to be desired, but I loved the book. i.e. The Giver (show what happened in the community), The Witch of Blackbird Pond (show what happened with her and the guy who she was in love with), etc. 2. What book ending surprised you most? I'm not surprised to easily. :) But Code of Silence by: Tim LaHaye (I think) surprised me and Emma guessed the ending before she read it, which really annoyed me. Generally, I don't tend to predict book endings. I just roll with where the book will go, which is why I tend to not get surprised, because what happens just seems natural to the book. Also, Reapers by: Bryan Davis. Someone died who I was not expecting. Seriously people. 3. Are there any movies you think are better than the books? If not, which ones come close? Hmm...that's a very rare condition, right there. The new Cinderella was better than the fairytale and the original Cinderella. I melted. Figuratively speaking. 4. Do you prefer listening to altos or sopranos? I don't really know the difference.... I just like music. 5. What kind of music do you like to listen to when you’re upset? Red or Josh Garrels. Something deep and not incredibly happy, but not something that will depress me more... 6. What song do you want sung/played at your funeral? Morbid...Probably Souvenirs by Switchfoot... 7. If you had to own a store, what would it sell? Books and writing supplies like binders, paper clips, cool pens, paper, etc. Music maybe. 8. Are you left-brained or right-brained? Not sure what that means.... 9. Do you like personality tests and other get-to-know-yourself stuff? Why or why not? Depends on the test. Some of them are fun and others have like 100 questions (literally) and you don't really care that much about the end point. 10. What’s a movie you really want to see? Well, that will go into a big list. Let's see here...Home, Inside Out, Mockingjay 2, Star Wars 7, Star Wars 3, Mazerunner (but Mom won't let me watch that one):, 11. If you could only read three books for the rest of your life, which would they be (besides the Bible)? Why do you torture me so? To Kill a Mockingbird, Paige Torn by: Erynn Mangum, Masters and Slayers by: Bryan Davis, A Voice in the Wind by: Francine Rivers and others that I'm too tired to think of right now. I've found that there aren't a ton of books I want to read over and over and over again. And I've got to go, so I'm going to nominate anyone who wants to do this (plus I've forgotten who has done this since I'm like 6 months behind) and use the same questions that were asked to me. Knock yourself out. He will lede me troow the dust!! "This is what I put in my journal, and I think it's a verse." She extends the homemade book to me. "He will lead me through the dust."
"I don't think that's a verse, but it's a cool saying." "What does it mean?" I'm thinking, 'Don't you know? You wrote it.' "I'm not sure. What do you think it means?" "I don't know. Maybe the dust could mean all the bad things that happen to you." "Like all the sin and other bad things?" She nods. "And God leads you through it." She lays down for bed, satisfied. "I think that should be a Bible verse." "I think it should." "During the chorus of this next song, I want everyone to raise their hands and sing as loud as possible. And really listen to the words you're singing. And I want to tell you this. Jesus is in this room, worshiping with you, right now." 400 or so children are lowered to their knees. "Bless the Lord, oh my soul. Oh my soul, worship his holy name. Sing like never before. Oh my soul, worship his holy name." 800 hands lift in the air. The words are sung and the sound rolls over the stage like a wave during a thunderstorm, powerful. 400 voices blessing the name of the Lord. I'm overwhelmed. My throat closes and I can barely sing. I may just break down right here and now on stage. I look over the crowd of children and I feel it. I can feel the darkness tremble. And I can feel the demons run. When I was a kid, we used to go to Estas Park every fall. There is a river that runs though town and the sidewalk curves around the edge of the river and at one point the rocks slope down from the walk to the edge of the river that rages and crashes against the rocks. Dad used to stand us on the edge and hold our hands and we would lean out over the chasm. Abby was always the brave one and she'd lean the farthest, laughing. When it got to my turn, I'd shake and beg him not to lean me too far over the chasm and I'd chicken out before I could get too far. But I can imagine what it would have felt like, the cold air surrounding me, the exhilarating feeling of being completely suspended over an angry river. In the back of my mind, I knew he'd never drop me. But, then again, what if he did? That’s the problem with trust, isn’t it? That you’re too afraid that your trust will be misplaced and the object of your trust will fail you. And then where would you be? Sometimes I feel like that way about God, like if I trust him with the big things, it's possible he'll fail. I'm afraid of what will happen if I let him take over. It's a scary feeling, handing it over and there have been several times I've backed out. But I can imagine what it would feel like. Carefree and reliant on someone who I know has it all together. In the back of my mind, I know he won't fail me. But, then again, what if he does? And if I let go of these chains now, will I float away? Can I just hold on? It feels like chains, the part of me that won't let go. We learn though, don't we. Every day we have this choice to trust God. Because in the end, no one can control what happens. So what use is it worrying and trying to control circumstances. What does it help?
I trust you. That's what I keep having to tell God, more to convince myself than him. I trust you. I trust you. I trust you. And he doesn't fail. If I can get the courage enough to lean over the chasm of life and trust that my God's got me perfectly save in his hands, he never, ever fails. I don't have time for long rant about this book, because Emma's staring at me, waiting for me to finish, so I'll just direct your attention to this review and strongly urge you to read it.
Here's to the memories. These are my souvenirs....I close my eyes and go back in time. I can see you smiling. You're so alive....Nothing lasts forever. I guess I probably should let you know that I've finished Dawn. This book marked a couple of milestones in my author journey.
My characters came alive and I love them to death. I almost cried killing Chris in the beginning and as much as I enjoyed writing this story, I was tortured along with Ray and Aura. I'm sorry, both of you. I love you, if that helps anything. And I'll miss you. Here's the synopsis for you who don't know. Chris always told Aura about God and she just accepted it, but never felt the connection. When he dies in a car crash, she doesn't know what to believe anymore. Where is his faithful God? Unknowingly, she shuts everyone out, trying to get rid of the pain. Aura's brother, Ray, is convinced Chris's death is his fault. After all, he was the one driving when he wasn't supposed to be. Maybe if he hadn't insisted, he would have died instead and saved everyone the pain. Plagued by guilt, he begins to get into trouble and starts contemplating suicide. If you're interested in reading it, comment, and I'll send it to you. I need help editing. Major help. :) Further along we'll know all about it. Further along we'll understand why....We'll understand this all by and by....I wondered why the good man cried, the bad man thrived. Walking down the streets, looking for angels. People passing by, looking for angels. The girl smoothing her hand over her belly wondering how she's going to tell her parents about the baby. The man fingering his wedding ring and yanking it off, trying to place how something so wonderful changed so quickly into something so nightmarish. The boy chatting with his friends, trying to act like nothing's wrong, even though he's breaking apart inside. So many people just waiting for a reason to not give up. Waiting for someone to smile, give them a word of encouragement, just give them a reason to believe that they aren't entirely worthless. You never know how much a difference you can make to someone just looking for angels. In the midst of the most painful faces angels show up in the strangest of places. What will you do to make a difference, to make a change? What will you do to help someone along the way? |
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
|