Okay, so all of you girls know that Desdemona gave me a very unique gift. This gift was to me, but it was also to 20 children. She fed 20 children (ahem, in MY honor :) for a week. I've been thinking a lot about this for the past hour and a half. 20 starving children are going to be fed with food. I am so excited for this. I honestly have never felt such joy before. Those aching tummies are going to be fed with warm, delicious morsels of food. While all of this is overwhelmingly joyful, I can't help but stop and think about whether these same children are being fed with love. And then I become sad--so sad that my heart feels like it might break. Beautiful, innocent, deserving children are aching for a drop of tender love. Just one drop might satisfy their quench, but they remain thirsty. Children drop dead every day without someone's arms to die in. They yearn for a kiss, a hug, and a warm word of love, but yet they never receive it. This is going on RIGHT NOW. And why? Because the rest of us are so darn comfy that we don't even give a thought to the daily lives of suffering children. I wish I could smack all of those rich celebrities. I see commercials where some famous actor or actress is asking us, the people who struggle daily to make ends meet, to help him/her feed starving people. Um, dude/dudette, wake up and smell the coffee-YOU are the one with the millions of dollars. YOU are the one who could stop hunger in a blink of an eye if you looked beyond your own world. This makes me so angry! Bill Gates, for instance, is a freakin' billionaire. WHY isn't he giving his money away to help causes that are so much more important that Microsoft Word? We can live without technology, people. We can't live without food, however, and millions are without food. Hello? Seriously, do you NOT realize that? Bill Gates, I am going to write you a letter, and it is not going to be filled with praises for your genius. No, it is going to be filled with complaints because your money is being absolutely wasted.

Okay, I was actually not intending to vent. But honestly, sometimes I feel so guilty that I even have a bed to sleep in. Why do I even dream of getting married and settling down? Why do I pray that someday a Prince Charming might come into my life and sweep me off my feet? No, tonight I decided I want a warrior who will help me fight this battle that the devil is so ravenously trying to win. And he is winning!

I'm 18 now (man, that feels SO good to say!). I can, will, and must do something. I think I will go crazy if I don't.

Little children of the world, you don't know who I am. But I love you so very, very much, and you're on my mind constantly. I WILL come to feed you all the love you've ever desired!

Today as I was blow drying my hair, I realized that there wouldn't be Christmas without Mary. So many people forget about her during the Christmas season. I don't think she minds because she must be overjoyed that everyone is giving thanks to her son. I mind, though. Especially because I'm the one who has gone all my life without giving any gratitude to Mary for saying "yes" and bringing my Prince into the world. I think my ultimate goal is to be a modern Mary. I have a ton of work to do. :)

I also realized how very, very grateful I am for Portia, Desdemona, Celia, Jessica, and Juliet. God took a long time to bring good friends into my life, but when He finally did bring them, He made sure I was given the best and most delightful friends I could have ever hoped for. I feel so lucky and blessed.

Merry Christmas, everyone!

Ok, so recently(as in the last 48) hours I realized that there are two things of great importance to me right now:

1. Having Passion!! There is an Adoration chapel(unfortunately not our Church's) which has a book entitled: Forgotten Among the Lilies: Learning to Love Beyond Our Fears. I know that this sounds like some "warm, fuzzy, watered-down" religious book, but it's actually very authentically Catholic!!! There was one chapter about passion that was great. Basically, it said that passion has been associated with worldliness for the last few hundred years. However, since passion is related to perseverance and steadfastness the "world" has been rejecting passion lately. The world is now pushing for relativeness and no love or passion. The Church has meanwhile been fighting for passion (think Humanae Vitae and the JPII's encyclical on hope). I mean, in order to really do or be anything amazing, you have to have passion. (Things like "soft-hearted, nice, and cozy" don't come to mind when thinking of the passionate saints.) So, put this book on your reading lists and enjoy!

2. Planning your life around a vocation not a career. I talked to a nun today, who came home to visit her family. There are sisters in her order who came right out of high school. She saw no problems with this. The moral of this story is: Don't go back to college, instead: stay and discern your vocation, see your old friends alot more, and party!

Okay, just kidding.

Of course the real moral of this story is that I was reminded of our main goal of heaven.

This is the last day before Christmas Eve. I just had to have an excuse to post this picture.

"Merry Marketing"

I read this in the Wall Street Journal this morning and had to share it with y'all. It's gooooood. I think he and Rev. Know-It-All are brothers. :) Their sense of humor is identical to a fault. :)
Read the full article here.


By Fr. James Martin, S.J.
...And this year what's been irking me are the slogans that companies are deploying in their December ad campaigns that hope to have it both ways: They're using religious themes without actually being religious. Call it faith-based advertising.

...The cover of the Land's End catalog, which is bursting with preppy families who apparently divide their time between laughing dementedly, drinking steaming mugs of hot chocolate and petting horses, says: "Make it Merry!" Make what merry? Celebrating the birth of Christ or petting a horse? ...

Break Out the Champagne

We now have 100 posts (this will be the 101st)!

How NOT to get married...

I found this on Rev. Know-it-all's blog. It's pretty darn hilarious; but sad at the same time, since it's so close to the truth.

Warning: THIS EPISODE OF THE REV. KNOW IT ALL IS EXTREMELY OFFENSIVE. IT IS NOT ABOUT YOU OR ANYONE YOU KNOW. PLEASE READ THE WHOLE ARTICLE. THE REV. KNOW IT ALL IS NOT OPPOSED TO ALL WEDDING CELEBRATIONS. HE IS NOT TALKING ABOUT YOUR WEDDING WHICH WAS A TRIUMPH OF PERSONAL SANCTITY AND GOOD TASTE. HE IS PROBABLY JUST HAVING A BAD DAY.

Dear Rev. Know it all,
I visited your church once and am thinking about having my wedding there. How long is your main aisle?
Mary O’Burne

Dear Mary,
I am often asked that question, and never quite understand it. Are brides curious about the length of the aisle because they think a longer aisle may give them a few more minutes to back out of the whole thing? Or, as I suspect, does a long aisle prolong the glorious promenade of which a young girl dreams as she thumbs through bridal magazine as she contemplates her special day, when all eyes focus on her as she approaches her enchanted prince and all the world thinks she’s gorgeous and knows that she has bagged her man just as surely as a Wisconsin bricklayer bags a deer and ties it onto the roof of his pick up truck? I have certainly seen a few grooms who look like a frightened deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck.
Why is it that weddings cause people to spend so much time, energy and money? And more money. The average American wedding costs almost $29,000, according to “The Wedding Report”, a market research publication. $29,000!” Oh, by the by, the usual donation to the church is about $200.00. That $200 goes to the church, not to the priest. The usual gift to the priest is a hearty handclasp. The usual cost of the photographer is $2,000.00. All this tells me that the photographs are ten times more important than the grace of the sacrament, in most peoples’ estimation. The usual fee for the DJ is $1,500.00. I am consoled by this. It means that painful, occasionally obscene music loud enough to cause brain damage is only 7.5 times more important than the grace of the sacrament.
You must be thinking why is this guy so down on weddings? I am down on some weddings because I am very “up” on the sacrament of matrimony and really in favor of marriage. That’s why the modern method of marrying and the wedding industry make me crazy. They militate against marriage. Here is the heart of my complaint. IT IS STUPID TO SPEND MORE TIME AND MONEY PREPARING FOR THE WEDDING THAN YOU DO PREPARING FOR THE MARRIAGE!!! I have known people who are still paying the credit card bills generated by the wedding years after the marriage is over.
The Modern Method of Marriage, a Reprise. The following is taken from my own experiences and things people have told me (outside of confession, you’ll be glad to know.) Here goes.

A young man and a young woman meet and have a few dates. They go for a weekend at a bed and breakfast where they bed one another, and then have breakfast. If he isn’t too much of a jerk and she isn’t too picky, they are then an item. She goes to the doctor gets a prescription and goes on to a more permanent form of birth control. At some time during this stage, the uncomfortable meeting with the parents happens. Everyone is polite and “supportive.” Secretly the father of the young woman who knows exactly what’s going on, contemplates buying a gun and the mother of the young man begins gossiping with whomever will listen about how her little boy could do better. After a while, if things hold up, they begin to have the conversation about taking their relationship to the “next level” by which they mean shacking up, as we used to call it. Now, I think it’s called moving in together.
Mom and Dad buy housewarming gifts in an attempt to, once again, be supportive. They don’t want their little dears to hate them and besides, it’s what everyone is doing these days, so it can’t be wrong. They have vague thoughts about getting married at that point and mom explains to grandma and to friends at church that they are just doing it to save money for the wedding. At this stage an engagement ring may appear. At some point, when they think about getting the house and the kids, because that’s what you do, they decide to have the wedding.
They rent the hall and then go see the priest. He tells them there are four other weddings that day and they respond, “but we’ve rented the hall already.” Someone suggests a garden wedding if the church is occupied. The priest says we can’t do garden weddings. (More on this later.) The young couple begins to complain about how narrow-minded the Church is with all these rules and regulations. They eventually pick a date. Then the bottom drops out. It seems the groom is not Catholic. He was baptized in the First Reformed Church of the Druids, though he never practiced. This means there must be a dispensation for the marriage, another irritating Catholic invention, and the wedding date cannot be confirmed until the dispensation is received.
The bride goes back to her doctor, this time for a prescription for valium. Her mother joins her on this visit. Finally the dispensation is granted, The groom’s druid will do one of the readings at the wedding, the loans are taken out, the banns are published. Then there is the rehearsal and rehearsal dinner. The best man comes to the rehearsal drunk out of his mind, the groom only slightly tipsy. The bride is furious at everyone for some reason known to her alone. Probably because the groom is far more interested in drinking and watching the football game on his hand held computer thing than he is in gazing lovingly into her eyes in anticipation of the great day. In fact they haven’t been, well... friendly in weeks. It is, after all, football season.
The special day comes, the best man is still drunk, the groom is hung over, no one knew about that interesting tattoo that the maid of honor had way low on her back, now revealed by the plunging back of her dress that is held up only by wishful thinking. Grandma, upon reading the logo of the maid of honor’s tattoo, has fainted. Somewhere in all this the vows are exchanged, and quite a few of the wedding party receive their first Holy Communion that day, however one of the ushers puts the host in his suit pocket not having a clue what it is. (This actually has happened to me twice.)
The pictures have been taken. The noise level in the church reaches that of an English soccer match after the riot has broken out. The children are jumping off the altar and the priest is scowling at everyone. Now on to the pictures in the forest preserve, a “must” at every wedding. There the wedding party is attacked by mosquitoes, one of the children falls into the lagoon and the bride is having a hard time smiling for the photos. The best man passes out. On to the reception.
The bride loses it because the shade of fuchsia in the floral center pieces clashes with the shade of fuchsia in the wedding party’s outfit. The groom adjourns to the bar where the game is on the television. The wedding dinner is served as music is played at a mind numbing volume. Grandma is better now. She has turned off her hearing aid. The priest is seated with the pious relatives in plaid suit coats and leaves shortly after the grace before meals.
The best man makes the toast which drones on about how he loves the groom and one begins to wonder. The college roommate/maid of honor does the same for the bride, going on for fifteen minutes about how she knew the bride would find eternal marital bliss the moment she met her in the third grade and they have been like sisters ever since. Then at some point, there is a video presentation of embarrassing photos not unlike the ones that are now shown at wakes.
The bar opens up again. The music reaches levels that cause blood to drip from some peoples’ nose and ears. The joyous event ends with the bride and groom being the last to leave the hall. They are slow to go up to the room they have rented in the hotel because nothing new or beautiful awaits them there. The groom promptly falls asleep, being heavily sedated already, and, as he snores away, with his shoes still on, our blushing bride, having shed her dress of virginal white, thinks back on this day, her special day, the most important day in her life, the day she has dreamt of since she was a little girl.
They will stay an extra day at the hotel, but cannot afford the time or money to go on a honeymoon because on Monday they will both be back at work in order to pay off the colossal bill that their special day has incurred. For some reason, the bride is depressed. Perhaps she is realizing that the high point of her life is now past and the rest of it will be spent with the lump that is now snoring beside her with whom she has never really had a serious conversation, except about the proper shade of fuchsia for the floral centerpieces. So it is that we celebrate the marriage of Christ and His Church in these enlightened and tolerant times.

Remember, none of these things happened at your wedding, thank God and don’t think from reading this that I am down on marriage or even weddings. I love a wedding celebration when there is something to celebrate. Also, it is never too late to begin again by taking Christ and His gospel seriously.
PLEASE SPEND MORE TIME AND MONEY PREPARING FOR THE MARRIAGE THAN YOU DO PREPARING FOR THE WEDDING.

Yours,
Rev. Know-it-all

I haven't been on the blog in such a long time. At the moment, my head is pounding, my tummy is grumbling, and I'm waiting impatiently for 3:36pm to come around so I can catch the bus home. Tonight is another choir concert. Christmas music! My choir is really introverted, which means that there is a lack of life up on stage when we sing. It needs to be worked on, especially since Christmas is so near! I want about 5 different dresses, and stuff from Leaflet Missal. Other than that, I've failed to give anyone a helpful wish list.

I want to invite my mother (my biological mother) to Christmas Mass. I feel like I can pray and pray that she becomes Catholic, but if I don't take the initiative to introduce her to Catholicism, how in the world is she going to become Catholic? Exactly. Anyway, I'm hoping she can come.

I'm off to catch my bus. I'm just going to take the long way out of school. I'm very tempted to buy myself a Caribou drink and a Subway sub. :) Yum.

Welcome to the second-to-last week of Advent. It's "pink candle" time. We have just ten days to go. Happy Advent.

Say it Again

This is such an adorable song!

Modest Swimsuits?

Yes.

Yes.

Yes.

YES!

Say YES to swimsuits that aren't bikinis.

Say EWW to bikinis.

Yesterday, I took my little siblings to their swim lessons, and I sat in the waiting room, watching them swim and reading Richard II. I also may or may not have been evesdropping on a hilarious and fascinating conversation that two young twenty-something women were having. One of them said to her friend (or sister, mayhaps?):

"Okay, this may sound really weird, but I really like the swimsuits that these little girls are wearing. I wish they made some like that in our size. Is that weird?"

"No, no. They're cute!"

"Yeah, I know! All they make now are two-pieces."

"Yeah, and like no one looks good in a two-piece."

"Yeaaaahhhh!.... .... Like that one-that's super cute. I wish they made some like that for us."

I thought: No one really likes bikinis. No one. No matter how fit you are, you just don't look beautiful in one. But if you walk into the store-that's all that's there. It's completely frustrating and demoralizing. And Catholic/Protestant/Homeschooled/Ex-homeschooled girls aren't the only ones frustrated by it. I think the general public will recognize that

this:

is much more stylish, unique, sophisticated, and chic than some silly old bikini.

(In case you haven't found out, I'm in love with one-shouldered looks. On the appropriate outfits, of course.)

I've decided to ask myself this question before wearing a swimsuit:

Would Audrey Hepburn wear it?

Audrey Hepburn has the most beautiful, timeless, sophisticated and modest sense of style that you could ever find. And, she is universally recognized in our secular world as a style icon.

Would Audrey Hepburn wear a bikini?

NO.

Would she wear this:

Yes.

Modestia's list of why to wear modest swimsuits:

Bikinis are boring. If most people are wearing them, are you really fashion forward?

Bikinis are not flattering on the vast majority of people, even “skinny” people.

Modest designs, especially vintage cuts, are more flattering for more body types. And that’s pretty much a fact.

You can stop being self-conscious and have fun!

You’ll get a ton of compliments on your cute and flattering suit.

The men in your life will thank you for it.

Other men will stare, but they’ll be thinking, “Man, who is that hot modest girl that totally looks like Mary!”

And perhaps most important:

You will have kept your convictions.

From The Rebelution's Modesty Survey:

--------Guys' thoughts on bikinis-----

"Ugh. Guy's brains are not compartmentalized. Underwear is underwear, folks."

"Two things: First, if your choice on the bottom is to shave or to show hair, it's immodest. Second, if your underwear covers more than your swimsuit, and you wouldn't walk around in your underwear, shouldn't that tell you something about your swimsuit?"

"Of course they are modest! After all, bikinis are nothing more than colorful underwear (less, actually, but that is besides the point) and we all know that underwear is perfectly acceptable and modest to wear in public. What guy could possibly be stumbled by seeing a girl only wearing underwear? Only some home-schooled, stuck-up, legalistic prude could object to that."
(Sarcastic, funny guy who appreciates modesy. PHF=100.)

Here is another poem. Quite the opposite of last time. It's so light and sweet(although not short)!

This line might just be the best one:

Mebby to mean yes an' say no

Comes nateral to women.

The Courtin' by James Russell Lowell

God makes sech nights, all white an' still

Fur 'z you can look or listen,
Moonshine an' snow on field an' hill,
All silence an' all glisten.

Zekle crep' up quite unbeknown
An' peeked in thru' the winder,
An' there sot Huldy all alone,
'Ith no one nigh to hender.

A fireplace filled the room's one side
With half a cord o' wood in--
There warn't no stoves (tell comfort died)
To bake ye to a puddin'.

The wa'nut logs shot sparkles out
Towards the pootiest, bless her,
An' leetle flames danced all about
The chiny on the dresser.

Agin the chimbley crook-necks hung,
An' in amongst 'em rusted
The ole queen's arm thet gran'ther Young
Fetched back from Concord busted.

The very room, coz she was in,
Seemed warm from floor to ceilin',
An' she looked full ez rosy agin
Ez the apples she was peelin'.

'Twas kin' o' kingdom-come to look
On seek a blessed cretur,
A dogrose blushin' to a brook
Ain't modester nor sweeter.

He was six foot o' man,
Clean grit an' human natur';
None couldn't quicker pitch a ton
Nor dror a furrer straighter.

He'd sparked it with full twenty gals,
He'd squired 'em, danced 'em, druv 'em,
Fust this one, an' then thet, by spells--
All is, he couldn't love 'em.

But long o' her his veins 'ould run
All crinkly like curled maple,
The side she breshed felt full o' sun
Ez a south slope in Ap'il.

She thought no v'ice hed sech a swing
Ez hisn in the choir;
My! when he made Ole Hunderd ring,
She knowed the Lord was nigher.

An' she'd blush scarlit, right in prayer,
When her new meetin'-bunnet
Felt somehow thru' its crown a pair
O' blue eyes sot upun it.

Thet night, I tell ye, she looked some!
She seemed to 've gut a new soul,
For she felt sartin-sure he'd come,
Down to her very shoe-sole.

She heered a foot, an' knowed it tu;
A-raspin' on the scraper,--
All ways to once her feelin's flew
Like sparks in burnt-up paper.

He kin' o' l'itered on the mat,
Some doubtfle o' the sekle,
His heart kep' goin' pity-pat,
But hern went pity Zekle.

An' yit she gin her cheer a jerk
Ez though she wished him furder,
An' on her apples kep' to work,
Parin' away like murder.

"you want to see my Pa, I s'pose?"
"Wal...no...I come dasignin'"--
"To see my Ma? She's sprinklin' clo'es
Agin to-morrer's i'nin'."

To say why gals acts so or so,
Or don't, 'ould be presumin';
Mebby to mean yes an' say no
Comes nateral to women.

He stood a spell on one foot fust,
Then stood a spell on t'other,
An' on which one he felt the wust
He couldn't ha' told ye nuther.

Says he, "I'd better call agin;"
Says she, "Think likely, Mister;"
Thet last word pricked him like a pin,
An'... Wal, he up an' kist her.

When Ma bimeby upon 'em slips,
Huldy sot pale ez ashes,
All kin' o' smily roun' the lips
An' teary roun' the lashes.

For she was jes' the quiet kind
Whose naturs never vary,
Like streams that keep a summer mind
Snowhid in Jenooary.

The blood clost roun' her heart felt glued
Too tight for all expressin',
Tell mother see how metters stood,
And gin 'em both her blessin'.

Then her red come back like the tide
Down to the Bay o' Fundy,
An' all I know is they was cried
In meetin' come nex' Sunday.

-THE END-
James Russell Lowell's poem: The Courtin'

________________________________________________

Waiting for the fish to bite or waiting for wind to fly a kite. Or waiting around for Friday night or waiting perhaps for their Uncle Jake or a pot to boil or a better break or a string of pearls or a pair of pants or a wig with curls or another chance. Everyone is just waiting. View quotes by Theodor Geisel

(Or waiting for Christmas break)




Just 18 more days to go.




Happy Feast of the Immaculate Conception!

Remember in my previous post how I talked about the 21 year old young woman who has fourteen of her own adopted children? I found her blog. THIS is a VERY noteworthy blog. Read her words, look at her pictures, and you will see how radiantly Christ is shining through her. I hope to work with her someday soon.

www.kissesfromkatie.blogspot.com

True Love

To love at all is to be vulnerable.

Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken.

If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal.

Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness.

But in that casket- safe, dark, motionless, airless--it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.” ~ C.S. Lewis

Why love if losing hurts so much? We love to know that we are not alone. ~ C.S. Lewis

Due to a certain trend that the blog is following right now, I am giving into peer pressure(its not all bad you know :) and posting about my wedding dress. This is something I've been planning for years...ha ha... but don't have anything picked out at the moment.

However, I have a few ideas about the veil, which I am definitely having! They will be something like:

!

This past weekend I went to a girl's conference. The speakers were Eric and Leslie Ludy, authors of quite a few books. Every one there was Protestant (except me, of course), which was kind of awkward when I crossed myself at meal times. I got a few funny looks, but it made me laugh. Anyway, I didn't understand why I had spent $130 on this conference. Friday night and most of Saturday I wasn't getting anything out of it. I didn't get anything out of it until two subejcts came up: prayer and missions work. The first subject, prayer, opened up a whole new world to me. They talked about the consistancy of praying. I'm a very rushed little girl. If I want something done, it needs to be immediately. I've prayed about serious matters quite lightly and infrequently to God, and yet I still wondered why He was taking so long. Um, duh, now I know. I wasn't pushing for it. I was expecting Him to answer me immediately, instead of taking my time to show Him how much I wanted a particular thing. These things consisted of my biological family becoming Catholic, my guardian being healed from her persistent illnesses, fincancial difficulty, ect. So, I began thinking about how I never have time to pray when Jesus decided to let me know that I DO have time, I just spend it unwisely on FACEBOOK. With that said, my Facebook is going to be exterminated. Good.

The second thing: missions work. A long while ago Jesus gave me a hint at what He wanted me to do with my life. It was this: "Love the world." For months all I could think about was loving the world, even though I had no idea what it meant. I even told my family that I wasn't interested in pursuing education or a career. They didn't agree with that, and told me my job was to obey them and that I was probably misunderstanding God's intentions. After that was said, I slowly waned from my pursuit of obeying God. Yesterday at the conference the girls were shown videos of orphaned children/child slaves. I finally understood what God meant when He said "love the world." I'm to go help those children. I'm to save those souls and bring them to Jesus. I'm to gather them in my arms and love them like they've never been loved before. Ugandan children are HUNTED at night. They walked up to 20 miles EACH NIGHT to escape being raped, abused, murdered, or tortured. They have no food. No home. No family. They are alone in this miserable world. I don't know where I'm supposed to go. I just know I need to go. These are very prime years right now. I'm going to be 18 soon, and will be able to do way more things that I've ever been able to do before. There's another young woman in Uganda right now. Her name is Katie. She is 21 years old and already has 14 adopted kids. THAT'S what I want. I've been wasting time dreaming about wedding gowns, and romantic kisses, and a beautiful home with lovely children, when across the world there are starving, beautiful children waiting to be kissed on the cheek by a tender mother.

Anyway, if you could pray for me in this area I would be so grateful. There is absolutely no way I can turn back to my daily life after having seen those videos. There was one video in which two 11 years were sold as slaves in less than 10 hours. TEN HOURS. They were ripped off the street and sold as prostitutes. Another video was about the story of a 21 year old girl who was sold as a prostitute slave. She was forced to have 15 men a day, otherwise she was beaten and starved. There must be something done to stop this!

I found my wedding dress. :)



These bridesmaid dresses are something I'm considering. I want my wedding to be sweet, simple, and elegant. I also want my husband to be sweet, simple, and elegant. Maybe not elegant. Suave. Boo yah.





Modest wedding dresses are so much more beautiful than your typical wedding dress. It's so cool how Jesus meant for women to cover themselves, and we look the best when we DO cover ourselves.

This is a quote from one of my history textbooks (I was studying about the women's rights movement):

"Some have tried to become semi-men by putting on the Bloomer dress. Let me tell you in a word why it can never be done. It is this: woman, robed and folded in her long dress, is beautiful. She walks gracefully...If she attemmps to run, the charm is gone. Take off the robes, and put on pants, and show the limbs, the grace and mystery are all gone."

I agree with this 100%. There IS a very particular grace and mystery when a woman is adorned in a dress (a modest one :). It's good to be a woman.

My current Facebook status:

Brittany Last-Name-Shall-Not-Be-Revealed-Due-To-Potential-Stalker-Issues has firmly decided that I am not going to be classified as "white" anymore. I am not white. Have you seen the color white? Yes, you have. Peeps, my homies, my shizzle wizzle dizzles, I am now going to be classified as "peach". Or perhaps "cream with a pink undertone". If I were truly white, then I would definitely have to go tanning. And I hate tanning. -_-

We're going to change the world, people. One fruit classification at a time.

Wait, cream isn't a fruit. Dude, word up, there's a problem. Darn it...

Ok, so I wrote in another location. But I just have to have you all pray for me this week. My piano teacher is having me do alot of practicing for the Christmas concert. (Or, maybe I have to do alot because I haven't been doing as much as I should have been...and I have to some cramming before the end...)anyway, say one more tiny prayer for your dear friend(who seems to have lost all of her great "committed, persevering" practicing skills this year. And who needs to find them before college....

Swans

The swan, like the soul of the poet, by the dull world is ill understood.~Heine



I love swans. I was just thinking about them today. Just look at them. They're gorgeous, graceful creatures. They look delicate, demure, and feminine.

Yet, lying dormant within them are reservoirs of titanic strength that they draw on to fly over 2000 miles.

That's strength. It's a beautiful sort of strength. A strong, quiet type of strength-shy, demure, quiet. Not brash, demanding attention, but simply doing what needs to be done without fuss or complaint. That's the kind of strong I strive/hope/wish/want to be.

And they mate for life.

True Love.


There's a double beauty whenever a swan swims on a lake with her double thereon. ~ Thomas Hood

Christmas Novena

Ha! I'm only a day late. This prayer is a tradition for my family (even though we've only been saying it for a few years; traditions have to start sometime ;-) ). Starting on the feast of St. Andrew (November 30), you recite this prayer 15 times a day until Christmas. Happy Advent!

Hail and blessed be the hour and moment in which the Son of God was born of the most pure Virgin Mary, at midnight, in Bethlehem, in piercing cold. In that hour, vouchsafe, O my God! to hear my prayer and grant my desires, through the merits of Our Saviour Jesus Christ, and of His Blessed Mother. Amen.

Warning: Finals Approaching

A short apology for not posting more frequently: I've been sick, there's always a load of homework, and no internet access over Thanksgiving being just a few of my excuses. And, with finals swiftly approaching in a week and a half, I probably won't be back to posting until I'm home over Christmas break.

That being said, I do have two projects in the works: a review of Pan's Labyrinth and my thoughts on Lord Peter Wimsey (preview: I love him!). They may even get posted earlier if I'm feeling rebellious and don't want to study my Harvey. I may even throw in my thoughts on The Barber of Seville (I'm going to see it on Sunday). You have been warned.

Movie Review

I found this review of the Passion of the Christ. It's almost 6 years old, but I aboslutely loved it. I just thought I'd post it-it's got some really great reflections on the film.

The Passion of the Christ


BY ROGER EBERT / February 24, 2004

If ever there was a film with the correct title, that film is Mel Gibson's "The Passion of the Christ." Although the word passion has become mixed up with romance, its Latin origins refer to suffering and pain; later Christian theology broadened that to include Christ's love for mankind, which made him willing to suffer and die for us.

The movie is 126 minutes long, and I would guess that at least 100 of those minutes, maybe more, are concerned specifically and graphically with the details of the torture and death of Jesus. This is the most violent film I have ever seen.

I prefer to evaluate a film on the basis of what it intends to do, not on what I think it should have done. It is clear that Mel Gibson wanted to make graphic and inescapable the price that Jesus paid (as Christians believe) when he died for our sins. Anyone raised as a Catholic will be familiar with the stops along the way; the screenplay is inspired not so much by the Gospels as by the 14 Stations of the Cross. As an altar boy, serving during the Stations on Friday nights in Lent, I was encouraged to meditate on Christ's suffering, and I remember the chants as the priest led the way from one station to another:

At the Cross, her station keeping ...

Stood the mournful Mother weeping ...

Close to Jesus to the last.

For we altar boys, this was not necessarily a deep spiritual experience. Christ suffered, Christ died, Christ rose again, we were redeemed, and let's hope we can get home in time to watch the Illinois basketball game on TV. What Gibson has provided for me, for the first time in my life, is a visceral idea of what the Passion consisted of. That his film is superficial in terms of the surrounding message -- that we get only a few passing references to the teachings of Jesus -- is, I suppose, not the point. This is not a sermon or a homily, but a visualization of the central event in the Christian religion. Take it or leave it.

David Ansen, a critic I respect, finds in Newsweek that Gibson has gone too far. "The relentless gore is self-defeating," he writes. "Instead of being moved by Christ's suffering or awed by his sacrifice, I felt abused by a filmmaker intent on punishing an audience, for who knows what sins."

This is a completely valid response to the film, and I quote Ansen because I suspect he speaks for many audience members, who will enter the theater in a devout or spiritual mood and emerge deeply disturbed. You must be prepared for whippings, flayings, beatings, the crunch of bones, the agony of screams, the cruelty of the sadistic centurions, the rivulets of blood that crisscross every inch of Jesus' body. Some will leave before the end.

This is not a Passion like any other ever filmed. Perhaps that is the best reason for it. I grew up on those pious Hollywood biblical epics of the 1950s, which looked like holy cards brought to life. I remember my grin when Time magazine noted that Jeffrey Hunter, starring as Christ in "King of Kings" (1961), had shaved his armpits. (Not Hunter's fault; the film's Crucifixion scene had to be re-shot because preview audiences objected to Jesus' hairy chest.)

If it does nothing else, Gibson's film will break the tradition of turning Jesus and his disciples into neat, clean, well-barbered middle-class businessmen. They were poor men in a poor land. I debated Martin Scorsese's "The Last Temptation of Christ" with commentator Michael Medved before an audience from a Christian college, and was told by an audience member that the characters were filthy and needed haircuts.

The Middle East in biblical times was a Jewish community occupied against its will by the Roman Empire, and the message of Jesus was equally threatening to both sides: to the Romans, because he was a revolutionary, and to the establishment of Jewish priests, because he preached a new covenant and threatened the status quo.

In the movie's scenes showing Jesus being condemned to death, the two main players are Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor, and Caiaphas, the Jewish high priest. Both men want to keep the lid on, and while neither is especially eager to see Jesus crucified, they live in a harsh time when such a man is dangerous.

Pilate is seen going through his well-known doubts before finally washing his hands of the matter and turning Jesus over to the priests, but Caiaphas, who also had doubts, is not seen as sympathetically. The critic Steven D. Greydanus, in a useful analysis of the film, writes: "The film omits the canonical line from John's gospel in which Caiaphas argues that it is better for one man to die for the people [so] that the nation be saved.

"Had Gibson retained this line, perhaps giving Caiaphas a measure of the inner conflict he gave to Pilate, it could have underscored the similarities between Caiaphas and Pilate and helped defuse the issue of anti-Semitism."

This scene and others might justifiably be cited by anyone concerned that the movie contains anti-Semitism. My own feeling is that Gibson's film is not anti-Semitic, but reflects a range of behavior on the part of its Jewish characters, on balance favorably. The Jews who seem to desire Jesus' death are in the priesthood, and have political as well as theological reasons for acting; like today's Catholic bishops who were slow to condemn abusive priests, Protestant TV preachers who confuse religion with politics, or Muslim clerics who are silent on terrorism, they have an investment in their positions and authority. The other Jews seen in the film are viewed positively; Simon helps Jesus to carry the cross, Veronica brings a cloth to wipe his face, Jews in the crowd cry out against his torture.

A reasonable person, I believe, will reflect that in this story set in a Jewish land, there are many characters with many motives, some good, some not, each one representing himself, none representing his religion. The story involves a Jew who tried no less than to replace the established religion and set himself up as the Messiah. He was understandably greeted with a jaundiced eye by the Jewish establishment while at the same time finding his support, his disciples and the founders of his church entirely among his fellow Jews. The libel that the Jews "killed Christ" involves a willful misreading of testament and teaching: Jesus was made man and came to Earth in order to suffer and die in reparation for our sins. No race, no man, no priest, no governor, no executioner killed Jesus; he died by God's will to fulfill his purpose, and with our sins we all killed him. That some Christian churches have historically been guilty of the sin of anti-Semitism is undeniable, but in committing it they violated their own beliefs.

This discussion will seem beside the point for readers who want to know about the movie, not the theology. But "The Passion of the Christ," more than any other film I can recall, depends upon theological considerations. Gibson has not made a movie that anyone would call "commercial," and if it grosses millions, that will not be because anyone was entertained. It is a personal message movie of the most radical kind, attempting to re-create events of personal urgency to Gibson. The filmmaker has put his artistry and fortune at the service of his conviction and belief, and that doesn't happen often.

Is the film "good" or "great?" I imagine each person's reaction (visceral, theological, artistic) will differ. I was moved by the depth of feeling, by the skill of the actors and technicians, by their desire to see this project through no matter what. To discuss individual performances, such as James Caviezel's heroic depiction of the ordeal, is almost beside the point. This isn't a movie about performances, although it has powerful ones, or about technique, although it is awesome, or about cinematography (although Caleb Deschanel paints with an artist's eye), or music (although John Debney supports the content without distracting from it).

It is a film about an idea. An idea that it is necessary to fully comprehend the Passion if Christianity is to make any sense. Gibson has communicated his idea with a singleminded urgency. Many will disagree. Some will agree, but be horrified by the graphic treatment. I myself am no longer religious in the sense that a long-ago altar boy thought he should be, but I can respond to the power of belief whether I agree or not, and when I find it in a film, I must respect it.




Note: I said the film is the most violent I have ever seen. It will probably be the most violent you have ever seen. This is not a criticism but an observation; the film is unsuitable for younger viewers, but works powerfully for those who can endure it. The MPAA's R rating is definitive proof that the organization either will never give the NC-17 rating for violence alone, or was intimidated by the subject matter. If it had been anyone other than Jesus up on that cross, I have a feeling that NC-17 would have been automatic.

Silence*

Edgar Lee Masters

I have known the silence of the stars and of the sea, And the silence of the city when it pauses, And the silence of a man and a maid, And the silence of the sick When their eyes roam about the room. And I ask: For the depths Of what use is language? A beast of the field moans a few times When death takes its young. And we are voiceless in the presence of realities - We cannot speak. A curious boy asks an old soldier Sitting in front of the grocery store, "How did you lose your leg?" And the old soldier is struck with silence, Or his mind flies away Because he cannot concentrate it on Gettysburg, It comes back jocosely And he says, "A bear bit it off." And the boy wonders, while the old soldier Dumbly, feebly lives over The flashes of guns, the thunder of cannon, The shrieks of the slain, And himself lying on the ground, And the hospital surgeons, the knives, And the long days in bed. But if he could describe it all He would be an artist. But if he were an artist there would be deeper wounds Which he could not describe. There is the silence of a great hatred, And the silence of a great love, And the silence of an embittered friendship. There is the silence of a spiritual crisis, Through which your soul, exquisitely tortured, Comes with visions not to be uttered Into a realm of higher life. There is the silence of defeat. There is the silence of those unjustly punished And the silence of the dying whose hand Suddenly grips yours. There is the silence between father and son, When the father cannot explain his life, Even though he be misunderstood for it. There is the silence that comes between husband and wife. There is the silence of those who have failed; And the vast silence that covers Broken nations and vanquished leaders. There is the silence of Lincoln, Thinking of the poverty of his youth. And the silence of Napoleon After Waterloo. And the silence of Jeanne d'Arc Saying amid the flames, "Blessed Jesus" - Revealing in two words all sorrows, all hope. And there is the silence of age, Too full of wisdom for the tongue to utter it In words intelligible to those who have not lived The great range of life. And there is the silence of the dead. If we who are in life cannot speak Of profound experiences, Why do you marvel that the dead Do not tell you of death? Their silence shall be interpreted As we approach them.

This is one of my favorite poems. I think it covers every aspect of life in one page. Word up!

Here Comes the Bride...

Click on dress for full view.

Mori Lee has the most beautiful wedding dresses I've ever seen. I saw this exact dress at the Chapel of Love at MOA on the Friday after Thanksgiving(I don't really like calling it Black Friday for some reason, so we'll just call it what it is: the Friday after Thanksgiving).

And I may or may not have let out a shriek of delight and joy when I saw this dress.

I may have gasped out of sheer wonder and awe.

Then again I may not have.

The truth remains shrouded in mystery and mysteriousness.

But what I definitely did do was make my friend from work (who I was wandering about with; she was looking for a hard drive from Best Buy-but we ended up finding my future wedding dress. A happy tradeoff? I think yes.) stop for a good couple of minutes and admire the dress while I took a picture-it was with my phone, so it wasn't a very good picture. But, then I snooped about on the Chapel of Love website, and I found the dress!


Sidebar: Who on earth would want to get married in the Mall of America??????

Just sayin'.


But, anyhow, I just wanted to show you my wedding dress! Because it officially is going to be my wedding dress. No, I'm not planning on getting married anytime in the near future. But, as my Boy Scout brother would say: Be Prepared.

I'm Eighteen.

Clocks are ticking.

Bridesmaids' dresses, anyone? ;)

The Count-Down Continues

There are officially 25 days until Christmas. So, study hard, work hard, shop hard, bake hard!

This question has been thrown in my face on Facebook, MSN, Hotmail, YAHOO, and other random websites:

"Would you date a vampire?"

Dun, dun, dun!

Um, no. I wouldn't. I don't care how many girls think that vampires are "sexy", I do not care for a lover of mine to find it invigorating to bite my neck in order to draw out my blood so that it can slide down his throat and into his intestine. That was probably more information than anyone needed to hear. Still, who can blame me for saying it? No girl will ever have a vampire as a boyfriend, so why continue discussing how romantic it would be to date one (besides, I still don't get how blood-sucking fangs are romantic)? Oh, and this whole "vegetarian vampire" delio thing in the Twilight series=WEIRD. A vegetarian vampire? That just makes me guffaw. Apparently a vampire can only be a vegetarian if he eats animals, not humans. Wouldn't that just make him a carnivore vampire? Isn't a vampire just a psychologically disturbed human? Oh wait, a vampire is also a bat. Dude, word up, this is way more mind twisting than I thought. I'm just going to drop the subject and let girls dream about dating bats disguised as humans.

If you were sitting on Jesus' lap right now, and He asked you to tell him your Christmas wishes, what would you say? I think in this scenerio, I would feel inclined to tell Him my deepest desires. Yes, I would love world peace, end of starvation, and a morally steadfast world, but those are all generalizations of terrible things. Behind the idea of world peace is a picture depicting the reasons why there never has and never will be world peace. Behind the idea of ending starvation is a picture depicting the reasons why there always has and always will be constant hunger. Behind the idea of a morally steadfast world is a picture depicting the reasons why there never has and never will be a united people with the same principles and understandings. These things can never happen in this time, at least. And why? My answer has and always will be "love". Love is at the very root of things. Love enables us to be peacemakers, to be generous, to want good. So often, I think, people are unable to truly understand what love is. Is love a feeling? Is love a chemical? Is love a choice? I don't believe love can ever be clearly defined because it is so complex. There are certainly many examples of love, but can love be described in a few simple sentences? I think an entire book could be written on the concept of love, and it would still not be clearly defined. I think this is because love is the very core of God. I definitely think we can reach this core--we ourselves can internally understand what love is--but it is impossible to explain with words. Hence the saying, "Actions Speak Louder Than Words". :)

Well, I'm about ready to drop dead with fatigue. I love that word. It sounds so sophisticated. Fatigue. Fatigue. Yes, it's wonderful.

I am thankful for (first things that pop to mind)...

Jesus
Cameras
Pie
My girls (aka, Lady Desdemona, Juliet, Jessica, Lady Cecilia, Portia, and those not listed in the blog)
Computers
Cell phones
Bagels
Cream Cheese
Chocolate
Reeses Pieces
Peanut M&M's
Friends
Kenny
Jimmy
Brent
Family
Waitresses
Coca-Cola
Ice cream
Shoes
My bed
My hairbrush
Vaseline
Cookies
Ink
Printers
Ms. Spring
Ms. Lee
Ms. Kemink
My late father
Pencils
Gum
Soup
Dresses
Skirts
Sweaters
Comfy jeans
Necklaces
Purity ring
Deodorant
Sparkling water
The Malt Shop
Holy Family Church
Books
Blogging
Keyboards
Pianos
iPods
Music
Blankets
Good grades
Laughter
Children
Lamps
Fireplaces
Bids
Nature
People
Movies
Washing machine
Dryer machine
Electricity
Running water
Tea
Cocoa
Surprises

After school (which shall end in approx. 12 minutes), I'm helping a Guatemalan immigrant with his theatre homework. It should be interesting. Today he asked "why people wore their pants down to their knees". The question actually took me by surprise because every one I know is rather used to that fashion. He certainly isn't. I believe he will be a refreshing friend. I'm super excited to learn about his culture. I shall fill all of you in once I have more details. Maybe people in Guatemala actually dress decently. Whoo!

A week ago my school had a choir/band/orchestra concert. The orchestra was, ahem, pretty awful. I don't hold it against them since this orchestra was just formed, and consists of about 15 people total. Yeah, not good. Anyway, while they were performing their pieces, I was sitting in my chair wincing and squirming and wishing I had my iPod on hand so that I could listen to the New York Philharmonic. Anyway, as I was wincing, squirming, and wishing I had my iPod on hand so that I could listen to the New York Philharmonic, I realized something. Beautiful music sounds like it belongs in heaven, wouldn't you agree? Of course you do. Now, the music this school orchestra was playing certainly didn't sound like it belonged in heaven--more like purgatory. And then I had this thought: what if my life was like this music? What if my life caused Jesus to wince and squirm (I can't picture Jesus listening to an iPod, so I'll leave that out of there)? Lately I've been in the worst spiritual state possible--lukewarm. I've been trying to change it, but I'm so easily distracted that I can't stay in prayer for 10 seconds. To continue: if my life is like a squeaky orchestra, wouldn't Jesus want it to be a beautiful philharmonic? After all, HE'S the one listening to the distasteful sounds day after day. So this is my "spiritual object: a violin. St. Therese's "spiritual object" was a violet. Her simple beauty and fragrance brought great glory and happiness to Jesus. I want my violin to bring sweet music to His ears. Right now that violin is a little rusty, but I think with continuing practice it will grow into a graceful melody of beautiful notes.

School is over. I'm off to help Navin (aka the Guatemala student).

PHF - 95

You know that there is still hope and light in a world where a song about getting hugs from fireflies becomes a smash hit. I give thanks for those who try to maintain a sense of childlike wonder in a world that can be so dark and cynical.

Happy Thanksgiving. Today is only 32 days away from Christmas.

From the Random Bucket...

Or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Jane Austen

I was going through my old scripts the other day (because I was in a pensive mood-and I do that sort of thing when I'm in a pensive mood), and I found these little thoughts written in, around, and all over the pages and covers of my Pride and Prejudice Script. I haven't read these since May, but I think they merit a re-visiting...

Without further ado:

• Opposites attract, but they must learn to meet in the middle. (E.g., Lizzie and Darcy: Darcy is her soulmate, because they both need each other- he starts out cold & proud, Lizzie starts out immature-his coldness is melted by my "fine eyes", representing my character, which is on par, and every bit as strong as his. My immaturity (manifest in my rash judgement) is tempered by him. I grow up, he loosens up. I am searching for a soulmate- I refuse to settle for less. My character is attracted to Darcy's character-only when I discover his character to be good and true.)



• Prejudice comes from my [Elizabeth's] fierce loyalty-almost the same reasons as Darcy's failings. E.g. Miss Bingley is an obvious snob. Therefore, [Miss Bingley's]warning [about Wickham] (a true, good warning,) is disregarded because it comes from her lips. This is prejudice, because why should she not be correct, although she is a snob? But, how else is one to judge someone and their actions, and words than by one's previous knowledge of them?
  
  
• PRIDE--Choosing not to love out of fear. Out of fear of being rejected, of not being loved back.
  
  
• Just love! "A life lived in fear is a life half lived."
  
  
• To love was why woman was created. [Ed. Note: This was written in reference to Genesis, and how Eve was created to be a companion for Adam. Adam was told to "fill the earth and subdue it" (Genesis 1: 28), but Eve was made for Adam, because Adam was lonely. God said "It is not good for the man to be alone." (Genesis 2:18) So, what did He do? He made a companion for Adam; and since He's God, obviously He's going to give Adam the perfect companion. That perfect companion was Woman. How sweet/adorable/romantic/lovely/beautiful/mind-boggling/earth-shattering/"inconceivable!" is that? Honestly, I think that's just the best thing ever.]
  
  
• Strong characters are attracted by character, not [exterior] beauty. Eyes express strength of character-windows to the soul.
  
  
• People project what they are onto other people.
  
  
• Obstinancy is his [Darcy's] true failing-perhaps like mine[Lizzie's].
  
  
• I pride myself on being the opposite of Jane (she sees only good in others at all costs), but I pride myself on seeing all and having no qualms about criticizing it.[Ed. Note--Can I say I find it simply fascinating, delightful, delicious, and quintessentially ironic that Lizzie's real fault is pride! Truly, it is: Lizzie is a clever, intuitive girl-the cleverest and most intuitive in her circle of aquaintance. Therefore, there's a little, wee bit of pride-the knowledge that she is better than everyone else. She prides herself on her ability to read character, and her good judgment. She's spiritually on an entirely different plane than everyone else in her family and her friends, and she's fallen into the trap of pride-the mistake of thinking herself "a cut above the company," as a wise, dashing young gentleman once said. But by the end of the story, Lizzie is a much humbler character. She's still witty, clever, and vivacious; but she has learned wisdom and humility.]
  
  
• Lizzie's attraction to Wickham is a vital ( i.e., physical) attraction. Physical attraction is blind-it sees only one side of the person-the side that the person wants you to see, or the side that you wish to see.
  
  
• Lizzie feels a respect that can lead to love-one must have respect-gratitude. Lizzie does not love Darcy as yet; but then her physical and vital attraction is awakened by Pemberly. I see a beauty & splendor of Darcy's that can rival Wickham's glamour. Only when Darcy's character was proved good did his wealth become attractive."If gratitude and esteem are good foundations of affection, Elizabeth's change of sentiment will be niether improbable nor faulty." --P&P Chapter 46
  
  
• "Never had she so honestly felt that she could have loved him, as now, when all love must be vain." ---P&P Chapter 46
  
  
• "She began now to comprehend that he was exactly the man, who, in disposition and talents, would most suit her."---P&P Chapter 50
  
  
  So there you are. I love this story-it is arguably the greatest love story of modern English literature. Jane Austen wrote a masterpiece, and it never ceases to amaze me how much richness and beauty and Truth is contained within the pages of her book. P&P is one of the rare works that is a 'classic' in the full sense of the word-it's themes are universal, undying, and are at the heart of all our stories.
  
  

"Even in literature and art, no man who bothers about originality will ever be original: whereas if you simply try to tell the truth (without caring twopence how often it has been told before) you will, nine times out of ten, become original without ever having noticed it."---C. S. Lewis

This is for Mara. Your Mom said that you were not feeling well. Please feel better! We love you.

Perfect Humility

"I suddenly remembered that on one can enter heaven except as a child; and nothing is so obvious in a child-- not in a conceited child, but in a good child-- as its great and undisguised pleasure in being praised. Not only in a child, either, but even in a dog or a horse. Apparently what I had mistaken for humility had, all these years, prevented me from understanding what is in fact the humblest, the most childlike, the most creaturely of pleasures--nay, the specific pleasure of the inferior: the pleasure of a beast before men, a child before its father, a pupil before his teacher, a creature before its Creator. I am not forgetting how horribly this most innocent desire is parodied in our human ambitions, or how very quickly, in my own experience, the lawful pleasure of praise from those whom it was my duty to please turns into the deadly poison of self-admiration. But I thought I could detect a moment--a very, very short moment--before this happened, during which the staisfaction of having pleased those whom I rightly loved and rightly feared was pure. And that is enought to raise our thoughts to what may happen when the redeemed soul, beyond all hope and nearly beyond belief, learns at last that she has pleased Him whom she was created to please. There will be no room for vanity then. She will be free from the miserable illusion that is is her doing. With no taint of what we should now call self-approval she will most innocently rejoice in the thing that God has made her to be, and the moment which heals her old inferiority complex forever will also drown her pride deeper than Prospero's book. Perfect humility dispenses with modesty. If God is satisfied with the work, the work may be satisfied with itself; "it is not for her to bandy compliments with her Sovereign."

----C.S. Lewis, "The Weight of Glory"

Those of you who read my silly posts will clearly remember that I posted a particular blog about a boy. Ahem, yes, I know you remember. Anyway, lately I've found myself very attracted to quite a few different "men" (aka high school boys). Now, I'm not sure if this is because I'm suddenly around way more guys than I've ever been throughout my entire life, or whether I'm maturing mentally and emotionally and am naturally feeling inclined to find a mate. In any case, I've found that Jesus is slowly fading from my thoughts as boys consume them. This may sound quite sad, but it's actually shown me how much I appreciate Jesus and His constant love. See, a year ago I was going through a very difficult maturing stage in my relationship with Jesus. I felt as if He wasn't ever there, that He didn't love me, that He left me to fend for myself. While yes, He was indeed there, He did love me, and He was always there to help me fight my battles, I still felt very empty. I felt abandoned by Him. Although Jesus never abandons us, He sometimes quietly steps into the shadows. I didn't understand why Jesus left me at such a difficult time. It made no sense. I had very angry conversations with him often, but continued to beg for the grace to see His purpose in leaving me alone. In time I did. I couldn't fully love Jesus until I learned to love Him without receiving love in return. I was basically feeding back what He was giving me. That doesn't work in a relationship. I tried and am continually trying to love Him without feeling His love in return. However, there are many moments when my heart almost explodes with the love He has for me. Sometimes I have to stop doing what I'm doing to just catch my breath because it is so overwhelming. That overwhelming feeling is the feeling I should have for Him. This task is by far the hardest He has ever given me. To love someone whom you don't feel loves you in return is very difficult. It's clearly much easier to love someone whom you feel loves you back.

I kind of got off topic. Anyway, the reason I feel such an appreciation for Jesus' love is because no boy, however handsome or charming he is, will be able to love me the way Jesus does. It's now come to the point where I don't even need to feel Jesus' love in order to know how very dearly He loves and cares for me. In later years I will, if ever, be used in past tense when those boys say my name. They will probably know nothing about my whereabouts. I am glad to know that I will always be used in present tense or future tense when Jesus talks about me. It's relieving to know that He always has my best interest at heart. So yes, now I must do the task of bringing Jesus back into the forefront of my thoughts. I don't see how I will be able to stand strongly without doing so. I think I'll move to an all girls school. Just kidding. I'm going to put paper bags over every boy's head. Just kidding. I don't know how I'm going to handle the situation. Maybe the paper bag idea is the right way to go about things...:)