Watercolor

Okay... So I normally don't post my real artwork here because I don't want to seem show-off-ish, but I've had such a rough semester and today was the last day of it. And if I'm going to be an illustrator, I should probably start breaking the habit of being nervous to show my work.

Despite all my troubles with learning how to use watercolor, I did alright. My review went quite well this evening. Dennis even wants me to bring my work back next semester for photographing. And the final piece I did, my best piece of the four, he thinks has a chance in the Society of Illustrators competition. Could he be anymore encouraging!?

I wish I had a scanner and a better color correction program, but I don't. So the digital camera had to do. Doesn't really do the color much justice, but I tried to at least brighten them up a little so you can at least see them. They are in order of assignment. The last is the one Dennis liked the most.


Had to make an animal out of fruits and/or veggies. I think the carrot stems were my favorite to paint. Yay for dry brushing!


Had to recreate an old master's work and replace the head with that of an animal. I don't think I could have picked a more complicated piece. This was based off of Michelangelo's The Prophet Jeremiah from the Sistine Ceiling.


This assignment was to compose a scene from an opera. I chose Cosi Fan Tutte by Mozzart.


Finally, an egg. That was it. Whatever we wanted, but there had to be a recognizable egg in it. I did multiple eggs. And no, I don't know what it is. It hasn't hatched yet.

Figure Drawing!

I'm supposed to be working on an art history paper now, but I've wanted to write this entry for a while. So, procrastination ensues...

This is the first semester I've had a figure drawing class. I'd drawn the figure before, in other drawing classes. But this was the first time I had a class completely dedicated to studying and drawing the figure. In the beginning, it was just another class, just another model to draw. I've never considered myself particularly skilled at drawing the human figure. My proportions are usually a little off somewhere, or a form doesn't fit quite right into another. Always something I can't see until my professor points it out. And it's a constant frustration not being able to see for myself what I'm doing right or wrong. I've always been amazed with the beauty and grace of the human body, in all its various ways of moving and holding a pose. So to not be able to capture that elegance as an artist, to not have enough knowledge or delicacy of hand, would leave me feeling disappointed and doubtful of my own abilities.

This semester, however, I had a breakthrough! At some point I just started getting it. My forms started looking more accurate than they ever had been. My shading improved a great deal. And my proportions, better than they ever have been. I was learning to draw by doing just that...DRAWING! And not just by drawing anything, but by drawing the same thing. The human figure. Over and over. Each and every class. I know I learn things better by repetition, but I'd never really thought about applying it to my art.

I eventually began leaving class feeling very satisfied with what I had accomplished in those three hours. Last week, as I flipped through my drawings from class, I noticed the gradual improvements as I neared the latest ones. That was exciting! Then Doug, my professor, even mentioned to me personally that I'd been improving, that my forms were really fitting together. That was even more exciting! Toward the end, I actually looked forward to figure class. I even got brave on Monday and moved my stuff all the way to the opposite side of the room so I could test out my new "powers" on the most extreme angle I could get, with the figure very foreshortened in a lying-down pose. I very much enjoyed myself.

And it has nothing to do with drawing a "naked person." No, it's so much more than that. For me, I just get stuck in my own little world. Drawing, meditating... just being. Being, with a stick of charcoal in my hand. Being, with my eyes on the beauty of light and shade washing over the human form in all its splendor. Being, with a heart that praises God for such beauty. It was nice to finally find a place to just be.

Today was my last class to draw from the model. :( When I walked in and saw the couch set up, I moved all the way to one side again, thinking I would have another foreshortened pose. But, to my disappointment, the model chose a leaning, seated pose. But I still had fun! Next week we are having our final crit, where we choose our best/favorite piece, while Doug chooses our worst one and puts it up next to the good one. I'm nervous and excited at the same time!

Anyways, I think I'm newly obsessed with drawing the figure. I'm signed up for another figure class next semester, too. Woo hoo!!!

A Room With A View

It's been a while, I know. Rather than using this blog during the semester, I've been journaling in a small sketch book. Not just writing, but many other things. It's been a place where I can do whatever, wherever, and whenever. I can take it with me and scribble among the pages as I see fit. I've try to do something everyday, even if it's not all that creative. I want to get into the habit of making certain things a daily practice. I've slacked off for far too long. What kind of artist would I be if I never actually made art? So my little journal has held priority over this blog as of late. But here I am, for now. It's nice to come back to this once in a while.

This year I'm rooming in the back of F-Complex. There is a beautiful view from my window. At least, compared to previous semesters it is. Some people might not find anything too great about looking out at buildings and a few trees everyday. And true, it's nothing spectacular. But every morning, I am in awe of what God shows me.

For one thing, the sun comes up on my side of the building so that every morning the sun shines, it comes right through my window. Also, there are some trees off to the side that have been reminded by the season to change the colors of their leaves. I'm on the second floor, but from the back it's really like three floors up, so I get to look right into the tree tops. They are lovely, especially when that morning sun shines through them and the leaves sparkle and glow. My favorite is this red tree whose leaves are so bright in the sunlight that not even the greatest of painters or photographers could capture the essence of beauty it has. Sometimes I just stare at it, admiring the work of the Greatest Artist of all.


Another thing I am blessed with just about every morning is that I get to watch the birds. Sometimes crows, sometimes seagulls, and sometimes rarer birds like bluejays and woodpeckers. I watch them fly around, landing in the trees to perch for a while, or just resting a moment before flying off again. Again, maybe not the coolest thing ever to some people, but I've become increasingly inspired by birds. I think they are such amazing little creations of God. I've had to draw parts of them for previous ilustration assignments, and have since become drawn to them. How they fly, how their wings work, all that underlying structure stuff that I find fascinating. There is also a beautiful hawk that flies around campus from time to time, and I am so in awe when I am fortunate enough to catch it in flight, right overhead. There have also been a few special moments God has given me with this magnificant animal.

So...yeah. I like the view this year. I am so blessed! Oh, and I want an owl skull someday. Their ears are asymmetrical! How cool is that!

Clues

(I'm not sure which blog I'll mainly be using to post art on...)

These are a several of the clues I made for Adam's return home (see last post). Unfortunately, both our plans got very turned around by the time he got back, so it didn't go exactly how I wanted, but it all worked out in the end.

The original picture for one clue, which I made out of magazine cut-outs, tape, and the like.


This is what it looks like now. The middle piece on the top row is darker because I had it in the oven and my sister happened to make cookies without seeing it there. I had been sleeping so I was unable to save it, but it seemed to be okay anyways. Woot!

These are some of the other clues, not in any particular order.


This one you actually have to read in a mirror.

Re-Creative

(Yes, I posted this entry on my other blog, but it's such exciting news for me that I decided to post it on both blogs!)


(It didn't scan as well as I would have liked...but here it is!)

Just when I thought I lacked any creativity whatsoever anymore, or the modivation to stick to anything I start, I had this spark, an immediate urge to create. It came yesterday and so I took out some old carpet samples, and scrap materials from a sculpture piece I did last year, in an attempt to make something with them. I started working outside on the picnic table until the weather forced me to move indoors. There isn't much of a place for me to work at my house, as far as art projects go. No one comes home and sees my stuff as work in progress; they see it as a mess. So I spread my stuff on the island in the kitchen, a surface my dad really dislikes being cluttered with stuff. He wasn't home, which I took advantage of. When I reached the point of just not knowing what else to do with the little door piece I had created, I moved onto something else.

I had typed up some clues for a quest-like thing for Adam earilier in the evening, and so I went back to print and cut them out. I've made those... "quests," I guess I'll call them... before and always have so much fun thinking up clever ways to get from one clue to the next, even having some clues hidden online or with a friend or family member. The clues theselves can get quite involved, or at least I think they so (Adam's pretty good at figuring that stuff out). Typically, the clues are typed out or hand-written and most of the thought goes into where and how I am going to hide them. Last night, however, I thought it would be fun if I gave the appearance of the clues a little more attention. With this newly rekindled drive to create something, anything, I was willing to do it.

The very first clue I made was really what inspired me to make all of the clues specially. It started out slow as I tried to figure out what to do with it. Instead of leaving it in it's very straight forward, typed document look, I decided to cut out the lines of type and tape them onto calligraphy paper. Then I just started adding stuff, experimenting. Sometimes successfully, sometimes not.

Of course, the intriguing idea to do all this did not come until around nine or ten o' clock. So I ended up pulling an all-nighter, not wanting to lose the counter space, which I surely would by morning when my dad came home. But also because I was afraid that if I didn't keep going while I was in the zone, I would lose interest the next day. And I didn't want to lose the ideas that I had at only that moment, ideas I did not know how to write on paper because half of them were experimental on an as-I-went basis.

My favorite experiment was sort of an accidental discovery. Glue had not been working too well and was taking a lot of time. Normally, I would take the time to make it work if I had to, but as much as I was on a creative spree, I lacked the energy and, in turn, the patience. I grew achingly exhausted as the late hours of the night turned into the chilly, early morning hours. Anyways, the discovery I made happened when I had laid out the computer paper stips of text on top of the calligraphy paper how I wanted. I then attempted to apply the tape, but the static of the tape caused the strips to "jump" off the paper and cling to the tape before I had put it down. I was quite annoyed when it did that because I had to carefully pulled the strips off, which made them curly and harder to work with, and reposition them.

I think it was the second clue I worked on that the discovery happened. I found that when the text-covered, little strips were pulled away from the tape, they left behind a layer of ink, allowing the tape to act as a transparency, like the ones used for overhead projectors. And all I had to do was stick it to something, the text being visible, the tape not so much. I ended up using more tape than I thought I would when I started. The nice thing about it is that the original text was being removed from the paper completely, provided I was careful not to rip the tape away.

I'll try to get some images of the clues while I have the scanner available. But for now they are still hidden as Adam has not don't the quest yet. I'm just hoping he doesn't read this before then. These images, on the other hand, are the envelopes to the cards my dad got for my cousins' graduation party today. He asked me to write the names down and have everyone sign them, everyone being me and my two sisters. Eventually, I found myself doodling little designs in the corners. Then I broke out and just had fun with them, creating little scenes and characters.

Although I wasn't aiming to make masterpieces out of them, I felt the simple creativity of it was enough to be meditative or theraputic for me. I don't know how long I worked on them, but by the end, I had worked it out so that each envelope would match up with the other two. I thought it a shame to let them go without saving them in some way, so I used our scanner for the first time. I'm not sure it picked up the blue ink all that well, but you can still get the idea.





I'm quite happy about these few, recent little projects I've taken on, especially because it's on my own time and not deadline time. I hope this is not merely a passing creative bug.

Non-Meaty

My cat and dog are watching me eat a delicious burger, probably hoping I'll slide some their way. But I don't think they suspect it's veggie.

Losing My Inner Artist

Sometimes I feel like I've gotten this far for reasons that do not include skill or talent. Not even creativity. I used to be so creative when I was little, and I loved to doodle and draw all the time. I think my passion to create started the moment I was able to hold one of those big fat crayons that a little girl can barely wrap her hand around. That little girl, me, used to have a head full of ideas. Not really the kind that had been given deep thought. There were no hidden agendas back then. At least none that I can recall. They were simple things, but I still felt like I knew what I was doing. I had no rules to follow except those of nature, which I tried to the best of my ability to copy based on memory.

In kindergarden, I remember, the first thing we did was draw in our journal-type books. We could draw anything we wanted, but the teacher would call on some of us everyday to share with the class what we had drawn. The boy who sat across from me always scribbled these big blobs of color that, to me, didn't make sense because they didn't look like anything. I don't know if he was really trying or if he just wasn't intersted, but it doesn't really matter. It was kindergarden.

Anyways, I can recall this one time that teacher called on me to share. I had drawn something like a cat tripping over a rock, but explained that he'd be okay because cats land on their feet. I remember I had tried to make it look like a cat, pointed ears and whiskers and all. And there was another time when we were split up into groups to make up a story about three or four dinosaurs. Then we had to illustrate different scenes of the story to put on a long piece of paper. The paper was then rolled around a couple cardboard tubes and put in a box with a square cut in one side, so that when you turned the roll of paper, only one scene would show at a time and could transition to the next scene. I distinctly remember my groupmates' disosaurs looking like scribbley blobs. But I had wanted to do a "long neck" one that eats leaves. So I gave mine a long neck and four legs and drew a tree next to it. Okay, so maybe in my five or six year old mind that's what happened, so that's how I remember it. Maybe mine was a blob like everybody else's. But I was still using my imagination.

In recent years, I find that my imagination just isn't what it used to be. I will get this urge to create, but can't seem to get my modivation going. I don't feel particularly inpired by anything, and when I am, I don't know what to do with it, how to incorporate it into a piece.

When deadlines for classes are set, I force myself to come up with ideas. Those ideas never seem to strike me as anything special or creative. I usually don't start "feeling it" until I've carried out a decent looking piece that derived from the sketch my teacher and I thought would work best. I wish I could get into it from beginning to end. It's like I've lost the passion to do anything on my own anymore.

I started two paintings this summer -which is better than the last couple summers when I didn't do anything- but neither of them got very far. I had the final outcome in my head for each, but once I stopped what I was doing to take a "break," I wouldn't go back to it. Is it that I am too lazy to mix paint and set everything up again? I don't know.

Another thing is that it always seems like everyone else knows what they're doing. They have complete control over their pencil or conte or charcoal stick or whatever. I know my bigest challenge right now is learning to lighten up and not go over my lines so much. I think I've definitely improved the weight of my hand, working from the general to the specific. But I am still unsure of myself when it comes to my lines, my proportions. I see what I'm drawing and I know exactly what I have to do, but when it comes to doing it there is this thing that keeps me from doing it that way. I'm scared to mess up. I can't make distictions between what's a good artistic move and what's not. At least that's what I end up telling myself.

There are certain skills I am trying hard to work up to. Better technique. Smoother values. Texture. Pespective. Straight lines in general. Composition. I don't know specifically what it is that keeps me from being at the level of my fellow classmates, those select few who seem to be masters at everything they put their hand in. I think I am very close, just not quite there. I'm sure not carrying a sketchbook with me all the time has it's negative effects, and going this long without drawing can't be a good thing. I feel like such a fruad as an artist sometimes. Like I'm wasting the professors' time because I'll never be as good as my competition.

I used to look at the world around me with such an artistic eye, making trees look more blue than they really were or pulling out the purple in shadows or studying aerial perspective while on walks or runs. Now it seems I'm just itching to be inspired. But I know that I have to get out and make my own inspiration. I can't just expect it's going to happen in my living room. Not that that's impossible, but I guess that's more of a reactive approach than a proactive one, which I should be aiming for.

I think it's about time I call up the little girl inside me and set up a play date.

Unintended Eating Disorder?

The last time I was weighed at the doctor, at the end of June, I was down from 121 to 109. I didn't really know why there was such a decrease. I hadn't consciously changed my diet or anything. Honestly (and sadly), my summer has been spent mostly on the computer. Part of the reason is that I'm taking an online class, which I put a lot of time into. Other than that, I just haven't had much to do. I don't have a job this summer, and I don't usually have a vehicle available to go anywhere with because my sisters and dad all work during the day. And most of my friends have jobs during the week so I don't really see them. When the weekend comes, I am with Adam. That usually means I am in Rocky Hill with him. Even when we stay in Wolcott, there are errands to be done and decisions to be made about where and when to do things together. On occassion, there are family events and such. So weekends are extremely busy while weekdays are extremely uneventful.

I guess the only time I really eat a lot is when I'm Adam or friends or family. When I'm by myself, I get caught up in whatever it is I'm doing without paying much attention to time or what my body needs, unless it is in need of the bathroom. But I actually got really scared the other day. I was at Adam's house on a weekday, but there was no one home during the day. I was working on my online course, and just writing a lot in a notebook, things on my mind that needed to be sorted out.

I did get up to get a cup of yogurt for breakfast, but that was it until Adam came home at about 4:00. Even then we didn't eat right away. We both wanted to take showers before his friends came over to discuss the canoeing trip coming up. We decided I would go first. I felt very light-headed in the shower, with this strange feeling of weakness in my entire body. But I made it out okay. When I weighed myself on the bathroom scale, it read 104. I really wanted to get some food in me.

While Adam was in the shower, I started making tomato soup on the stove. I had a pudding or yogurt or something to eat while I was waiting for the soup to be ready, all the while feeling weaker and weaker as I stirred. His parents came home. They were in the kitchen talking about Desnise's bee sting. I was listening politely. Then the feeling of ligh-headedness and weakness became overwhelming. I felt faint. All I could think of to do was sit down because I could barely stand.

At first Tim thought I was just being silly and asked if I was melting. But when they saw my hanging head weakly shake back and forth, they realized something was wrong. I was slowly gasping for air. I felt so tired. When asked what was wrong, I managed to communicate to them that I felt really light-headed and dizzy. Denise ran to get a cold washcloth for my neck. Tim stayed with his hand on my back. I was reassured I'd be okay and they insisted I just stay sitting for a while. Denise took care of the soup for me.

When Adam came out shortly after and saw me sitting on the floor, he picked me up and brought me to a chair at the kitchen table. He told me I had to eat something. I couldn't even lift my head off the kitchen table, though. It seemed like all of my energy had escaped me. Upon seeing my disposition, Adam carried me to his bed and laid me down to rest. When he brought the soup in for me, I had trouble sitting up by myself, so he lifted me against some pillows and used a plasic drawer kind of thing as a makeshift table for my legs. I was barely able to lift the spoon to my lips, but was finally eating again. I finished two bowls of tomato soup and some of a slice of potato bread.

I couldn't really eat anything solid because I had had my wisdom teeth removed several days prior. I kind of blamed that for my lack of eating more. I had gotten tired of yogurt and pudding and applesauce. But it's really no excuse for not eating. I want to get better about eating more. I have to stop "forgetting" to eat and start remembering to take care of myself.

I think the way I've been spending my summer days has made me very lazy to the point where I'm not doing that. Wow, that's really lazy! How can I not eat? I pee when I have to. Might as well eat, too. I don't consider myself anorexic, but I don't want to become like that, even if I don't mean to.

It's kind of strange. Most girls, I would think, would be happy about weighing less. But I don't care about my weight in the sense of wanting to look a certain way; I just want to be a healthy weight. In this case, I want to get back upto the weight I used to be, around 120. It's kind of funny that I want to gain weight and Adam wants to lose weight.

My Clever Pets

I should be writing the paper and doing the discussion board topic, but I just realized how awesome my pets are.

My dog, Ruby, is so cool! She learned how to open the sliding screen door to the backyard. So she can let herself in or out. She hasn't quite gotten the hang of shutting it behind her, but it's still cool that she can open it. She first started opening it by the giant hole in the bottom of the screen, but now she just nudges the frame with her nose.

My cat, Rumpel, learned how to use the hole to his advantage, too. When he wants to come in or go out, he squeezes through it.

The other cat, Rogue, figured out how to open pretty much any door in the house by clawing at it with her "hand." She used to only be able to do it if the door was cracked ever so slightly, but now she can do it if the door isn't latched all the way. Sometimes I'll think the door is completely shut, so when she tries to open it I don't think she will. But no. She gets it open anyway.

My pets rock!

A Simple Waiting

Just waiting for Kaylee to get home from work. Emily is at the family computer, typing away. She is waiting, too. The three of us will be meeting our dad at Ruby Tuesday this evening for a family dinner out. It's been a while, and I'm looking forward to it. I do wish I had known about it sooner, for just about an hour or two ago, I made macaroni and cheese for myself. I'm still pretty full. But I don't need to be hungry to spend time with them.

Kaylee's home now. We have a fly problem. Swatter time!

[Correction: We went to Olive Garden]

Desert

The desert is dry and hot and uncomfortable. That is, for someone as human as I it is. I feel thirsty. I can see the heat rising off the sand in the distance. It plays tricks on the eyes. It tries to deceive unsuspecting travelers, who are lost and can not seem to find their way back to civilization. Were they not so susceptible to these hallucinations, they might not be stranded. I am one of them. I find I have passed the same cactus at least four times. I try not to walk in circles but the desert is having her way. At night, she is so cold. I shiver under the moon. What else is there to do but wait for the rain every day? Such a long way off it seems.

But a pillar of cloud and fire is set before me. I marks my steps and leads the way. He is taking me to water. He is taking me to safety. He is taking me to the place where it will rain for days. He will not be angry that I was lost in the desert, but will greet me with opened arms and proclaim my return. He is love. He is my love. And he is in me and with me and for me. Someday, He will lead me to the place where my thirst will be forever quenched, and the water on my lips will be delicious.

The desert is a wonderful place to wait. How much sweeter will be the day I come out of such a place!

My 100th Post

HIV/AIDS has become such a huge epidemic. No, I'd rather say it's a pandemic because it's worldwide. If you are wondering what sparked this topic, I'll let you know that I am taking an online course about AIDS and epidemics. I've been looking at charts and graphs and reading up on the history of a lot of diseases, especially HIV and AIDS. It turns out that HIV infection is a HUGE problem and it's getting worse. True, there are not as many deaths from AIDS as there used to be, but the rate at which people are infected with the virus itself continues each year. In the 90's, it peaked. Now there is a consistent average of 40,000 NEW cases each year. And it's estimated that... I think it was something like 20-ish percent to 30-ish (again just an estimate)... Well, anyways, there are still a lot of people walking around who are infected but have no idea that they are.

And I'm curious. With all that we know about STD's and stuff, how could anyone not question every sex partner they have about his or her sexual and medical history? And if you are sexually active, how could you not get tested? You could be walking around with something that could ruin someone else's life! Is it really worth the one night of pleasure? Would you really trade that for a life threatening disease that you must live with?

And what can be done to stop it? I was originally playing with the idea that it could be made illegal to have unprotected sex if you have been officially diagnosed as being infected. I mean, it should be your responsibility to tell someone you are about to have sex with that you have an STD, instead of hiding it. Again, that's someone's life in your hands. But then there's the first ammendment. Shoot, I looked all over for it, but could find it. Anyways, the first amendment is that we have the right to live, speak, etc. However, they only apply to individual persons as long as they are not conflicting with someone else's rights.

For instance, murder. Murder is against the law because it conflicts with someone else's rights: the right to live! So if you KNOW you have a lethal STD and do not tell your partner, and you have sexual intercourse anyways, is that not a form of murder? Sure, the partner should have been smart enough to ask, but you are just as responsible. And what about drivers who are responsible for an accident and the person in the other car dies? Yes, they go to jail for man-slaughter. Of course, it was an accident! They didn't mean to spill their coffee in their lap and take their eyes of the road for that one second. They didn't know the light had tuned red... whatever. You see my point? Something so out of someone's control is still classified as a form of murder... and they didn't even know about it.

And what's the deal with accessory to murder? Just means you knew what was happening and didn't say anything... basically. Or that you helped but were not committing the act itself. An example I found online was that if someone were driving with friends in the car, and he suddenly pulled out a gun and shot someone in another car, the police would most likely charge everyone in the car with murder.

So maybe you're thinking, "Well, HIV doesn't kill right away. So it's not murder."

What about attempted murder? Poisoning? Ever see The Sixth Sense? How they caught that woman on tape poisoning that little kid over time through meals? (sorry if i just spoiled that for anyone) The point is, even though the kid was dying slowly from his illness, it was because she had been killing him slowly. So what if she had poisoned him just once and it did kill him slowly still? What's the difference between that and having sex with someone who doesn't know you have HIV when you do know? Is there a difference? You are risking passing something to them that will probably take years off of their life, which conflicts with their right to live. WOuld that not be an act of attemted murder, if not, even an accessory (if you wanted to blame it on the virus itself)?

Now again, these are just thoughts. I just think there needs to be improvement in how we are attacking this issue as more and more people are being infected with this deadly virus, and some who do not even know they are infected.

So if you are reading this, and if you are sexually active, PLEASE go get tested. Even if you and your partner have never had sex with anyone else before, you never know. Or if you are sexually active with multiple partners, GO GET TESTED OFTEN! Probably after every partner would be good. And you don't only owe it to yourself to get tested, but to those who you may have sex with in the future. And always ask your partner about their sexual and medical history. If they don't know whether or not they have anything because they haven't gotten tested, DON'T HAVE SEX WITH THEM!!! Especially if they have had sex with other people before. Encourage them to get tested.

Oh, and ladies, birth control pills or patches will NOT protect you from STD's. Either use a condom or don't have sex at all if you don't know his history. Seriously, (and this goes for guys, too) you may be totally turned on and stimulated, but it'll be worth giving up rather than finding out later that you have HIV or another STD, and that you probably gave it to five other people.

WHAT THE HECK!!! Is the world's addiction to sex going to be what does it in?

(This was a very long and aggravated rant. Sorry, I just want the world to be a better place. It just seems that if people could just keep their pants on long enough to ask the right questions, we would be a lot better off.)

wiggly worms

wiggly worms in and out
i thought i had an assignment due tomorrow
but i'm so ahead that i thought i was behind
now there's time for rest
none for worrying
my love is outside mowing the lawn
what fun that must be with heat rash
i don't hear the mower now
he must be done
hooray hoorah
i can't wait to cuddle up
and we will nap peacefully
i squished the wiggly worms

Pickles

I hate pickles.

Starving... One is a choice; One is not

If I am hungry, then I can eat. I can eat if I choose to. There is no worry in my mind that I may not be able to eat tomorrow. Because I am just that fortunate, that blessed. To live in the United States of America, to have come from a middle-class family, and to have grown up not knowing the feeling of starvation... well, I've just been thinking about that. I know how I feel when I have not had much to eat in a day. But I can't even imagine what it must be like to go for days without eating.

And there's something else I don't understand. These people who have the opportunity to eat, but choose not to because they want to be skinnier. It's one thing to fast for health or spiritual reasons, but starving yourself to fit into some tiny box of society's idea of what is beautiful or "sexy" is sad. Not to say that people who do this to themselves are bad people. I feel really sorry for them. I wish there was a way to let them all know that they are beautiful, no matter what the world says, and that they are loved just the way they are. And I wish they knew that starving themselves is hurting the people around them.

Pulled

So today was not quite an unproductive day. I sorted through my Facebook friends list, removing the people I either didn't know or that I really met only once and never talk to. I wasn't doing it to be mean or anything. Anyways...

In addition to the productiveness, I had to go pick up my sister, Emily, and her friend from school. Before I left, I lugged a big box of old computer text books to the truck. I somehow managed to lift the whole thing over the side and into the bed, but it was a bit of a strain. Why was I putting those books in the truck? Because my other sister, Kaylee, asked me this morning if I could bring them to the library to donate them. The computer company she works for no longer has a use for them. So I sleepily said I would, as I was still in bed when she asked. I didn't know how big the box was at the time.

So I decide to bring the books to the library on the way back from picking up the girls, since it was right on the way. In the school parking lot, I had to sqeeze through two parked cars that were nearly blocking my way to the pick-up area. It was quite frustrating because I was blocking someone who was parked in an actual parking spot. The two selfishly parked cars left just enough room for one car at a time to get by. Now there I was with this big pickup truck. I started to attempt the squeeze (and I was going to HAVE to get through if I wanted to turn around to exit) until two cars on the other side moved to get out through the small space. So I had to back up, being watchful of the many students that were heading to their cars. I was quite nervous when those two cars maneuvered between the selfish-cars and around the truck, and impressed when they came out successful. When I saw that there were no other cars coming through, and that the selfish-cars showed no signs of moving anytime soon, I carefully squeezed my beast of a vehicle through as well. Relief! But honestly! Why can't people just be more thoughtful when they park? I like knowing that if I park somewhere, other cars will still have plenty of room to get by. *sigh* Whatever...

So after I got the girls, we stopped at the library so I could drop off the books. Again, I had to lift the heavy box of them out of the bed. I couldn't do it on the first try, so I had to take some out and set them on the edge. Then once I had the box on the edge I put them back in. I slowly made my way to the door, struggling to carry the weight. Luckily there were handles on the side of the box, but eventually my fingers felt as though they might fall off. I tried to mentally get over the pain, telling myself that I was used to carrying heavy things at school and that this was no different. But this was heavier than most things I carry at school, even heavier than all the glass stuff I've had to carry. As I approached the door, I realized I was going to have no way of opening it. That is, until I saw the automatic door button. I pushed it and both the first and second door opened for me.

I set the books down on the front counter and explained that the books were for donation. The two women working talked between themselves about whether or not they were taking donations. Looking back on it, it's kind of funny. The fact that I had books to donate seemed to be a very serious matter. They went to check with, who I assumed was, the head librarian. I suppose working at a library can't be all that exciting (unless you are that into books, I guess) and for something out of the ordinary to happen, no matter how small, is more of an issue than one would think.

They went to a room behind the counter to talk to... I think they said her name was Karen. The wall between me and them was made of glass of some kind, and so I watched them discuss the issue. Judging by the expressions on their faces, and [Karen]'s slow and wary head movements, it did, indeed, seem to be a big deal. [Karen] came out to the counter, looking at me, then the box of books, then at me again. I almost felt like I was some unstable crazy person who might go off if these books were not donated. She said that they were not taking donations, but asked what they were, the whole time having a very concerned look on her face. I explained that my sister had asked me to bring them to be donated, and that they were from the company she worked for. That was really the extent of my knowledge about these books. She asked me what year they were, which sort of aggrivated me, having just explained that they were my sisters and I really didn't know anything else about them. So I said I didn't know, again saying that my sister asked me to bring them. She looked at the dates of a couple and explained they were too old to be used, and said they were garbage.

I didn't really care. I just wanted to leave, not being concerned with what happened to the stupid books. A simple yes or no would have sufficed. Eventually, I lugged the box back out to the truck. SO HEAVY!!! I totally pulled something...

Skills To Possess When Trying To Avoid the Inevitable

Oh, happy little blog of mine, you seem so lonely.


There are plenty of other things I could/should be doing right now, but I've let a lot of blogging opportunities pass me by recently. So I am taking this time out of my morning to grab hold of this one.

Aunt Bethy was over the house yesterday with her new baby, and my cousin, Adam. (Yes, my new baby cousin has the same name as my fiance. Fun?) My dad is paying her to clean the house. So while she was cleaning, I was playing with Adam. He had been moved from the walker to a towel on the floor. I sat down and interacted with him. I think he's about five or six months old (or maybe it's three...I dunno), so there was only so much I could do. Although, perhaps the limits of playing were greater than what I thought, but I don't really know a lot about babies, so I kept it simple. Lift baby up and bring him down gently. He seemed to get a kick out of that. Take his hands and pull him to a stand, then let him back to the floor. He seemed to like that, too. I did these things for a while until he started to cry. Aunt Bethy explained that sometimes babies get over-stimulated and start to cry. So she said to just give him a toy and leave him alone for a bit. Sure enough, he settled down after I did as she said.

Later, she changed his diaper. I watched. I've never changed a diaper in my life. Not because I think it's gross; I've just never had to, nor have I had the opportunity to learn. It was nice to talk to Aunt Bethy though. She offered useful information about having kids for the first time, like how nothing prepares you for giving birth, but it's still not as bad as some people make it out to be. I'm sure I'll still be nervous, but it was reassuring to hear her side. She also said how it's unfortunate that these days they don't really teach girls how to raise kids or to handle babies. Rather, these days they teach you only how to be independent as a woman and that you don't need a man, which is true to some degree. But there are so many girls who have no idea how to deal with kids.

I am one of those girls. I grew up in a home of two parents and two sisters. My sisters and I are all close in age. My aunt grew up with two parents and seven siblings! The older siblings got plenty of experience changing diapers and taking care of kids because the younger siblings were a LOT younger. Their dad was working three jobs to support the family, while their mom stayed at home until the older kids were old enough to take care of the little ones. Then she went to work, too. So most of the kids grew up knowing about hard work and raising kids and working together as a family. There was none of that "be independent and take care of yourself" mind set. But they were learning to be independent while working together and serving each other, knowing the importance of hard work and love. Oh, and there were four boys and four girls, all nicely mixed in age. (girl, boy, boy, girl, girl, boy, girl, boy)

Okay, so that was then. That was a crazy big family. This is now. Families don't usually get that big anymore. But I do find it interesting that, although society today promotes female independence without men at all in the picture (unless negatively so), and the idea that it's okay to have as much sex as you want outside of marriage as long as you're having fun, there are now thousands of teenage girls and young women who are getting pregnant and have no idea how to raise a child on their own. I mean, you can promote do-it-yourself women independence all you like, and even neglect to teach young girls and teens about birth and taking care of a baby and all that Home Ec stuff (I guess because it implies that women only have one role to play and that role is being a stay-at-home mom).

But in the end, it really doesn't matter what kind of life you have as a woman. You can be single and independent, fine. You can be in a relationship looking to get married. Or maybe you like being in a relationship without the thought of marriage, still having sex. I mean, jeez! Even I could call it quits on marriage and life a life of pleasure, independence, and fun. What matters though is that women are still women. Men are still men. "Boys have penises and girls have vaginas." Women are the ones who get pregnant. Men are the ones who just fertilize the egg.

No matter what the culture is, no matter what society says is good and bad, God's perfect design cannot be changed. It can be manipulated by evil, but never changed. And so whatever effort the world puts in to telling women not to bother learning the essentials of a typical housewife or mother, the truth is that someday all women will need to know to some degree what makes a baby tick or how to cook a meal. You just never know when the need will arise.

My ideal life as a woman:
To be established as a successful illustrator, having a job that I worked toward with only the help of God.
To be married to a good and honest Christian man who respects women and does not feel superior over them.
To make love with my husband, without having to work to find love from other places. (To think, an endless supply of intimacy, commitment, and pleasure, and all I had to do was play the game God's way! Sweet!)
To have learned how to cook and change a diaper.
To have three children.
To retire at the age of sixty-five or younger.
To live with Jesus for eternity in Heaven.

I am a woman. There are things I wish I had had learned but was never taught, things I really should know. Thanks a lot, World. Thanks for teaching me to be a "real" woman.

Spring 2007 GPA

So school's over again for the time being. We're getting into the summer now. It would seem I've been posting my GPA after each semester. So I guess this semester should be no different. 'Twas not as great a semester as the previous, but still much better than those of freshman year.

Spring 2007 GPA: 3.80
Overall GPA: 3.77

Not terrible. Not excellent. There is much room for improvement. And the funny thing... I got A's in my two least favorite classes, and A-'s in my three favorite classes. What does this tell me? That perhaps my priorities are not where they should be? Or maybe I'm just not putting enough effort into my priorities, especially my major. I'm quite disappointed in myself for not keeping up my level of quality in the drawing field. I've got to start getting more modivated, more gung-ho about my major. Hmmm...

Turkey Jerky

Right now I'm munching on some of the turkey jerkey one of Adam's co-workers made. It's quite good. I still don't know how I feel about it not being cooked, but I'll make an exception for the flavor and chewy goodness.

If anyone out there is wondering what I'm doing writing a blog entry when I should be working on my final projects for exam week, then you should know that I actually can not do anything at the moment. The photo studio is closed, the glass studio is closed, and I don't really have to study for art history until a few hours before the test. It kind of scares me actually that I'm not able to work on anything, especially when I have so much left to do. Although, besides taking this opportunity to type an entry and eat jerky, I could potentially start cleaning and packing for Tuesday. Ah, Tuesday. I can't wait to go home! Soon... soon.

Okay! Shower time!

Rings are for Hobbits

So I left you all in suspense, did I? Yes, I made it back home safely and the trip was great. I had an amazing experience throughout all of it. I've gotten back to school work and such since then.

And something wonderful happened yeaterday. No, I'm not talking about Easter. Although that, too, is a wonderful thing, the resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ. But something special happened to me and Adam.

We went to church in the morning, headed to a few other places, and then decided to get Subway for lunch. Adam took me to the grassy field near the sand pits. It was the same place he had taken me the day he told me he loved me. We had Subway then, too.

So we parked and had some deep and meaningful conversation while we ate lunch. Then he got out of the car and came around to my door and asked me to marry him. Well, that's the short version. And I basically said yes. So now we're engaged.

I've been telling people about it to share with them my joy. One of the questions that seems to come up the most is, "Where's the ring?" or "Why don't you have a ring?"

I must say that there are things more important to me than getting fancy jewelry.
But, Alyssa, it's significant!
Why? How is a little shiny thing going to make us more engaged than we already are? And I realized that it'd probably end up getting damaged or lost if I wore it in the shop. But even if I didn't have to work in the shop, I just don't want a ring. I'd rather we save his money for our future. I can't eat a ring, live in it, or sleep in it. It's just a piece of metal with something shiny on it.

Wedding rings are a little different, but for now, I don't need an engagement ring.

*edit- This is totally not to put down people who DO have engagement rings! This is just my view on having one, for me.

This Too Shall Pass

The last week of school is over. The stress of getting projects done on time has been reduced to nearly nothing. There are still a couple things waiting for me after spring break, but for now I shall not think of it. Now I must focus on the spring break trip to New Orleans. I leave tomorrow at 6pm. I'll carpool with a few people, meet at New Haven, and board a coach bus. Then we'll be on the road for about a day. That's a lot of travel time! Luckily, I had my experience with a long road trip over the winter break, so I think I'll be somewhat prepared for that.

I must admit, I am nervous. I'm not sure if it's a feeling that something bad is going to happen, or just that I'm uncertain of what to expect in an entirely different part of the country, where disaster has stuck and we are the ones going to help rebuild homes. What will happen to me? Will I get to see my loved ones again after this trip? What does the Lord have planned?

I shouldn't be scared or nervous. I am in the Lord's hands. But still... the human part of me knows this is a big risk in a lot of ways. The long journey down, the work days to come, new people to meet and live with for a week, and the journey home. One week. Seven days. A lot can happen in that time frame. What, I don't know. And that is what both excites me and frightens me.

Well, if anyone reads this... not to be morbid or anything, but...

If something happens to me:

Chelsea can have my art supplies and art books.
Emily and Kaylee... Well, I guess you can have whatever you want that's left. Like my room.
I don't really have much.
Mom and Dad can have whatever artwork they want.

Adam can have my guitars and Bibles... And is left already with my heart. Oh, and whatever money I have in my bank of america account can go to you.

Any other money laying around goes to Intervarsity.

Um... Any cd's I own can be given to... whoever. Adam I guess, and then make sure they get shared with others.

This laptop I'm using right now should be returned to Uncle Mike.

Dad can distribute the rest of my junk to the family, including Mom's.

I hope everyone's praying! I need it!

Pre-Stress Downtime

Right now blogging will be my small downtime before the stress of my busy weekend kicks in.

I've been captured by a song. It's a song I've listened to multiple times. And everytime I hear it I feel somewhat emotional. It's a song by Bethany Dillon, called "Beautiful." I think it speaks to the heart of every woman. As women, we often struggle with self-worth and self-image. We want to be loved, and we want to be beautiful. But most of us think we have very little to nothing beautiful about us. Some hide behind make-up, some wear revealing clothing, some dye their hair, some wear jewelry, some stop eating... the list goes on. There are many ways in which women are driven to create a beauty the world wants, when really, there is a beauty inside each and every one of us. And no, I don't mean just the inner beauty (though that is important, too). I am talking about actual, physical, visible beauty. Every girl, every woman, is a rose. It doesn't matter if you're tall, short, skinny, fat, blond, brunette, a red-head, with green eyes, brown eyes, blue eyes, dark skin, light skin, large breasts, small breasts, round butt, flat butt, muscles, or flab. Every single woman is a beauty to be admired.

Beautiful by Beathany Dillon:

I was so unique
Now I feel skin deep
I count on the make-up to cover it all
Crying myself to sleep cause I cannot keep their attention
I thought I could be strong
But it's killing me

Does someone hear my cry?
I'm dying for new life

I want to be beautiful
Make you stand in awe
Look inside my heart, and be amazed
I want to hear you say
Who I am is quite enough
Just want to be worthy of love
And beautiful

Sometimes I wish I was someone other than me
Fighting to make the mirror happy
Trying to find whatever is missing
Won't you help me back to glory

I want to be beautiful
Make you stand in awe
Look inside my heart, and be amazed
I want to hear you say
Who I am is quite enough
Just want to be worthy of love


You make me beautiful
You make me stand in awe
You step inside my heart, and I am amazed
I love to hear You say
Who I am is quite enough
You make me worthy of love and beautiful

Carrot Juice Fo REALZ!!!

Okay, so I just posted about 30 seconds ago. But Chelsea and I were discussing the idea of an all vegetable cleansing diet that would last three weeks. The idea appeals to me very much. I would be totally down with completely dumping the crap I normally eat to eat just healthy food. Chelsea's neighbors have done this diet before and claim they feel great after doing it. So... raw veggies for a week, juiced veggies for a week, and another week of raw veggies. Sounds exciting and challenging.

I also just had carrot juice for the first time tonight. I didn't think I would like it, but suprisingly, I really do! And it's pure carrot juice, nothing from concentrate, but 100% pure pressed. And what's even more exciting? Vitamin A: 700%. Great for the eyes! I think I would like to get a juicer someday, grow my own veggies, and live much healthier than I do now. That would be pretty sweet.

Go Veggies!

A Wretch Like Me... Saved?

The past.
It can't be changed.
Ever.
It will forever remain attached to my old self,
of which I am still reluctantly part of.
I want nothing more than to put off the old self
and put on the new self
and be one with Christ.

But Christ knows all these things I have done.
He knows my past.
Yet He takes the blame
for all those terrible things
that I have done.

I am unforgivable
and still I am forgiven.
Everyday.
I am unloveable
and still I am loved.
Everyday.
I am unworthy
and still I am fought for.
Everyday.

How can You even look at me
knowing all these things I've done?
How do You forgive me?
How do You love me?
And how do You have the will to keep fighting for me?
I do not understand these things.

But then I see You.
I see You in him.
I see him forgive me
and there You are.
I feel him love me
and I there You are.
I watch him fight for me
and there You are.

I have hurt You.
I have taken You're heart
and made it bleed.
And somehow it doestn't matter.
I am Yours.
Forever and always.

Hot Rods

I got burned for the first time today. No, not burned for the first time ever. Burned in the hot shop, where I am taking a class on hot glass fabrication. We just learned last week how to use the punty pipes and how to gather molten glass on them. So today after class, my partner Joe and I started practicing our gathering and marvering skills. Then at one point, after he had tapped one of his practice pieces off, he left for a moment. Of course, in the time when no one was around, I got burned.

It was nothing major. I just put my hand down on the pipe too close to the end. And believe me, you don't have to be all that close to be too close. I had sat down to make a cut with the jacks, these big tweezer things. I don't even remember why I put my right hand down when the left hand was supposed to be doing all the turning, but I did. My body reacted before I did. It hurt for a little while, but now it's okay. There's just a spot of raw, shiny skin on the inside of my pinky, right before it meets the rest of the hand.
But now I've learned. I know that I have to cool down the rod with water more often. And just because I got burned doesn't mean I should be afraid to work with hot glass anymore. I have to learn to get past the hurt. I have to move on. I have to make art. I can't make art if I'm afraid of pain or failure.

I really wonder if this will blister...

Under the Covers

When I went to bed last night, I was cold so I pulled my blankets over my head to get warm. As I lied there I thought about the previous night. Adam thought I was cute, all curled up under the covers. He said it was like I was just hanging out under there. But I had been cold then, too.

Then I thought about being a little kid. I used to hide under the covers when I was scared. I thought that being completey under the blankets would somehow protect me from monsters or bugs that might be lurking in the room. Eventually, I would fall asleep and awake to the safety of daylight.

And then I considered my life now. I no longer need to hide under the covers from things that scare me. These days, I run to my Father God. He is my shield, my protector, my... my blanket. The entire Trinity and all the Truth of the Gospel are my covers. In the arms of the Lord, I have nothing to fear, even in the darkest of nights.

A Break to Blog

It's Valentine's Day. Classes are cancelled for the rest of the day due to inclimate weather. I have all day to work on my illustration, which is amazing because I just found out yesterday that it is due tomorrow(Thursday).

I just stopped to look outside at a seagull Chelsea pointed out. There were also some boys wrestling each other. It was quite amusing. I'm typing with one hand. Not for any reason in particular, I just do that sometimes. I've gotten pretty good at it as far as I can tell.

Well, I'd better get back to work. I feel like I'm wasting this wonderful span of free time on things that don't really matter. Blogs, email, guitar, etc. Seriously, I'm going to draw from now until I have to eat dinner. And then I'll draw some more.

Happy Valentine's Day.

Case Files

I've wanted to blog for a long time now. Ever since school started, it's been rather difficult to do so. Everyday I find something that I want to write about, but due to my ever-busy schedule, I can't. Also, in the "free time" that I do allow myself, I read. I should be eading school related things, but I've picked up this one book that I just can't put down. I read it every chance I get!

So this book, The Case For A Creator by Lee Strobel, has got to be one of the best books I've ever read (and I'm only into chapter3 ). Strobel holds a Master of Studies in Law degree from Yale Law School and a journalism degree from the University of Missouri, and he was awarded with Illinois's highest honors for both investigative reporting and public service journalism from United Press International. He is also the formal legal affairs editor of the Chicago Tribune.

Anyways, he became an atheist when he was a freshmen in Highschool (1966), after studying the theory of evolution in biology class. Later in life, his wife Leslie became a Christian, which drove him to investigate the claims of Christianity, to gather only hard facts from reliable sources.

In the book I'm reading now (he's written others like it), he interviews highly creditted scientists about specific topics. He re-evaluates the theories that once led him away from God, only to find that most of what he learned in high school has been proven false. And something I found out, from his first interview with embriologist Johnathan Wells, is that a lot of what they still teach out of textbooks about evolution as fact has actually been disproven by scientists of all kinds for at least a hundred years. Even I had thought evolution was proven true and that it somehow fit into my faith anyways. I guess reading into things is really good, especially these days.

So yeah... Great book! I highly recommend it! And it's not just a book for people who are skeptical about Christianity, but for Christians, too. As much as I believe in God, it is hard to live on just blind faith. This is a book that helps to answer my "why" questions. I read Strobel's The Case For Easter last year and I loved it. It was very enlightening. I encourage everyone to read anyone of his books. He's also written The Case For Christ and The Case For Faith.

I thought it was impatience, but I'm just anxious...

Anxiuos
I wait
A painful wait
I must say

To endure
I must
Just be patient
Day by day

Lord God
I am
So blessed here
Though I wait

Fall 2006

Ok... I finally got my grades online for the Fall 2006 semester. It was MUCH better than I thought it was going to be.

Fall 2006 GPA: 3.93 (Praise!!!)
Spring 2006 GPA: 3.68

Fall 2005 GPA: 3.64

Cumulative Average: 3.76

And just in case I haven't mentioned it yet, I've decided on my major. Illustration with a minor in Sculpture. Although, my sculpture professor would rather me major in sculpture and do a minor in illustration. But he said, if anything, I should try to do a double major. That would be fun, but a ton of work (more so than now) and a ton a money.

But wow! God is GOOD! I know that I definitely CAN do ALL things through God who strengthens me! Woot!

Laugh Tracks

As I sit at my computer at in Wolcott, I wonder when Kaylee will be home. I'm going to visit my old youth group in Meriden tonight, but I need the car in about half an hour to get there. She has the car so I can't go anywhere until she gets back (and I don't like to drive the truck because it's old and unreliable... at least for me).

She's home now. Sweet. The only sound in the house besides Kaylee and Emily conversing is the television. I wasn't really watching it before, but what I heard caused my mind to formulate a particular thought, an viewpoint of sorts.

I've realized that I don't like laugh tracks all that much. Actually, I became so concious of it during the show my sister was watching that it really annoyed me. I'll admit that some of the jokes really were humorous, but not so much so that every following joke was just as humorous, if that's even makes sense. I guess I just don't like it when shows need to indicate where things are supposed to be funny. I like being able to decide for myself what I find funny. I don't want an automatic crowd telling me where there was supposed to be a joke, which apparently occur every five seconds.

For example...

Character#1 sits on a couch. Char.#2 enters, doing something unusual. Laugh track. Close up of char.#1's suprised facial expression. Laugh track. Char.1 then inquires what the heck it is char.2 is doing. Laugh track. Awkward silence with a sly look on char2's face. Laugh track. Char2 leaves the room, then returns to say one thing, then leaves again. Laugh track.

Now depending on where this kind of scene is placed in the show, certain things might be referring to things seen earlier in the show. That might happen with reoccurring jokes, etc. Anyways, I still thinks it's annoying to hear the laugh tracks. It's like saying, "You're too stupid to understand this humor, so let us help you out. Let us show where things are funny and you can laugh accordingly."

Well, I've really got to leave now. And now there is a show on, going through the entire procedure on a girl getting breast implants. (I can't see what's happening, but I can hear the play by play of the surgeon.) He keeps saying how she's going to be beautiful. Yuck! You can't be made beautiful if you already are beautiful. And all women are beautiful. I don't care what anyone says. Even I'm not always comfortable with how I look, but I would never go out of my way to change how I look, especially surgery.

Amazing Grace

God's grace has got to be one of the most profound things ever. Even when simply put that grace is something that is undeserved but given anyway, it is hard to grasp. Why should someone get what they don't deserve, especially if they are so undeserving? This is the mystery of grace.

I used to think that I was surely going to hell for having committed so many sins. But I have learned otherwise. Even now people who don't understand what Christ did for the world will ask me if I think certain things are sins, sometimes strange questions. "Alyssa, do you think it's a sin to kill bugs?" I usually don't know how to answer that one. But no, I don't think it's a sin to kill bugs, nor do I think it's beneficial to go around stepping on bugs just for the "fun" of it.

I remember once, when I was still a brand new Christian, a friend of mine who isn't a Chistain challenged my faith by telling me about his ex-girlfriend's level of religiousness. He said something like "She goes to church and believes in God, but she's definitely NOT a good Christian by your standards!" As if I were the one whose standards everyone should live by. I'll admit I was hurt by it, but I didn't know enough about my faith to know how to defend it. I wanted him to understand that I had a real relationship with God now and that I, too, had done a lot of bad things in the past, and that despite those things, I was still saved. But he didn't understand. He wasn't listening. He heard the words I was saying but his preconceived notions of Christianity were set in stone as far as I could tell.

Ever since the fall of man, when Adam and Eve disobeyed God and ate the forbidden fruit, we have been born into sin. Before Christ, man had to work under the law and perform many specific rituals and sacrafices. It was by works that we were saved. But then God sent His son Jesus Christ to save us, because we weren't doing so well at saving ourselves. Actually, we were really bad at it. And we still are. We just can't save ourselves! We are flawed, imperfect. And so Jesus took all of our sins to the cross with him. Then after he rose from the dead and ascended into Heaven, the Holy Spirit came down (I just learned that yesterday, actually). The Holy Spirit is what dwells within us. And it is grace that saves us, grace through Jesus Christ. We were born into sin and choose to do the wrong thing very often in our lives, but every time we DO sin, Christ takes the blame so that we may be right with out Father in Heaven. Doesn't seem fair, does it? No, but that is the way of grace.

There is sort of a catch. Grace IS for everyone. It is a gift from God. As with any gift, you don't have to work for it or buy it. It is free. But also with any gift, you have to reach out and take it. God doesn't care what you've done in the past, good or bad. He doesn't care how many hours of community service you've put in or what commandments you've broken. He just wants a relationship with you. He wants to take care of you. But He can't force you to take His gift. He can't take care of you if you don't let Him. And you can't save yourself. Only Christ Jesus can do that.

One last thing in regards to sins, for those who are still wondering about it. There is no sin that is worse that another. A sin is a sin. There's no point system up in Heaven. Whether you steal a pack of gum from the convenience store or a piece of priceless art from a museum, it's still stealing. And stealing is not a lesser sin than murdering someone. Both are sins. What matters is genuinely feeling sorry for what you've done, and the desire to change. (And by the way, killing someone and murdering someone are not the same thing.)

And so, though we who believe in Christ as our Lord and Savior still mess up and sin like any human being, we are undeservingly forgiven by God through His amazing grace.

I grew this heart into a drifter
Never felt the roots I bare
Sold my sight, oh brother, sister
For a mountain of fool's gold, it's gone
Only God knows, God knows where

Soul was restless for redemption
Feet were lookin' for a place to stand
Well, I ain't got no life
And you know I ain't got no money
Just the faith of an empty hand

Amazing grace, I feel you coming up slowly now
Like the sun is risin', heat on my face
Oh love that keeps on shinin', don't let the shadow come
Ya know I gotta feel your healin' rays

Hitched a ride, I was a beggar
I had murder on my hands
I needed water to rinse these stains
But only blood could remove what's spillin'
And pardon me the blame

Amazing grace, I feel you coming up slowly now
Like the sun is risin', heat on my face
Oh love that keeps on shinin', don't let the shadow come
Ya know I gotta feel your healin' rays

-Jars of Clay