Mugshot Metaphor Project Submission

My style is like the weather. Bright, colorful and cheery one day, and sad, bleak, and gloomy the next. My style does not determine my outlook on life, nor does it define my life and my surroundings. My style will lead others to determine how they treat me though, whether it be good or bad. My style is like the weather, strong and confident. It embodies my personality, and it shines through the dark with the power of the sun. My style empowers me, it does not inhibit me. I make the best with what I've got, and I will not let it pull me down. My style is like the weather, ever changing and ever surprising. It changes with the seasons, and it never seems to stay constant. My style is like the weather, powerful and a force to be reckoned with. Not everyone will like my style; not everyone will like the weather. But do not judge me by my style, #judgemebythecontentofmycharacter.

My mind is like a tornado, constantly spinning and going and crashing through life. It takes an idea and turns it on its head, it obliterates it and leaves the pieces behind. It never stops until it runs out of energy, too exhausted to go on any farther. It leaves broken hearts and broken buildings in its wake. My mind is like a tornado. A buildup of pressurized passion mixed with the winds of creativity. My mind is like a tornado, spinning ideas into dreams and dreams into visions, and visions in goals. My mind will leave you bewildered, reaching for a stronghold against it's sheer knowledge. But do not judge me by my mind, #judgemebythecontentofmycharacter.

This was a project i had to do in Advanced Writing. We had to choose an aspect of us that is often misread or misunderstood and make it into a metaphor. I really enjoyed this assignment and thought I would share it with you all.

Emily E.

Domestic Skills and Reading Recipes

 

Last week, I had the opportunity to cook for my family twice. One recipe turned out quite successful, the other one did...not. Well, it did with the help of some maternal intervention. The first thing, some Brazilian cheese bread that is supposed to be for sandwiches (we ate it with our soup like pull apart bread), turned out delicious! I did exactly what the box said, and it all went smoothly. The second dish, a spinach and ham quiche, was almost a disaster. I did not properly read the recipe and almost made a nasty pie. Mom came and checked on it when I put it in the oven and fixed, though.

The recipe called for cream, but we didn't have any, so I just ignored that part. It also said to chop the spinach, which I didn't do. Mom then reminded me, that if I take something out of a recipe, I have to put something else in as a replacement, which in this case would be milk.

I think we as Christians do this sometimes. We will follow the plan God has set out for us, and everything will turn out great. Then we get prideful and say "God, do you see how well I handled that situation? I think I did pretty good, yeah? I don't need Your help this time, okay. Go take care of someone else." And we end up misreading the instructions (the Bible) and making one big mess. And then God steps in and reminds us that we need to read the instructions very carefully and do exactly what they say.

A recipe isn't there to keep you from having fun in the kitchen, is it? No, it gives you guidance on how to make (hopefully) delicious and healthy food that you can enjoy.  The same goes for God's Law. It is not to keep you from having free reign to do whatever you choose. It is there to help us along so that we may get the most out of this life and the next.

We all misread instructions from time to time, but God is good about watching His children and steering them back in the right direction.

Learning to read it all the first time,
Emily E.

My thoughts on Family

Thanksgiving and Christmas have come and gone, and I have realized two things about my family. One, I can't stand them. Two, I love them with all my heart.

If you are relatively close to your family, you will understand exactly what I am talking about. Some days, it is incredibly hard to want to be around your relatives and anyone else whom you share a blood relation with. And I don't write this with intent to be rude or mean, there are just things in everybody that I don't particularly like. And then I am obligated to interact with them for a whole day. It is very tiring.

But I love them all dearly. My family has taught me a lot of things. My family has taught me that no matter how much time we spend apart and not talking, we will always come back together as one. And this usually involves really good food. I've learned that every one has different ways of resolving conflicts, and some work and some don't. I've learned to be flexible. Plans change, people run late, things come up. I've also learned to to be open to people outside our families. If someone brings someone with them for you to meet, it's for good reason and they want to feel accepted and loved, just like your relative does. So be kind, and be open to change. And babies. Be open to dealing with rowdy and destructive babies. I find it funny, on my dad's side, we now have a new generation of cousins coming up. One is my brother, 4, one is our cousin, 3, and another is our second cousin once removed, 15 months. So that was an interesting Christmas.

Family is sometimes hard to be around, and that's okay, you can't choose your family, so sometimes you wind up being related to people who have no emotional connection with you. You just have to roll with it and take it as it comes. It'll be difficult, but you should always try to be kind, be courteous, and learn from them if you can. Because if there's another thing I've learned recently, is that your family isn't going to be around forever. I think maybe that's why all of my grandparents are being kind of weird lately. I think they all realize that life is getting shorter for them, and they want to make the best of it. My great-grandmother just passed away about two weeks ago, and it made me realize how wonderful she was. I could write a whole blog post on her, and I probably will, too. Anyway, it made me realize that our family are the most influential people within our lives, whether we like to admit that or not.

And there may be some of you who don't really have a family. And I want to say I'm sorry. I'm sorry you will never get to have the experience of a happy Christmas. I'm sorry you don't get to enjoy conversation across the table with people who love you. Or maybe you have a family, but they aren't supportive of you. And again, I'm so sorry. But you are beautiful, and you are meaningful, and you are not a waste of space. You are more than their judgments, you are more than their rude remarks. You are you, and that is good.

Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year,
Emily E.

Let's Talk About Death

My life seems to be permeated with death and the possibility of it recently. After all of our pets went to the vet, all of them have issues that cost too much to fix, and now all we can do is make them as comfortable as possible until their deaths. My cat has something in her lungs and heart, we don't know what, but she probably won't last many more months. One dog has cancer, and it's growing rapidly. The other dog has an enlarged heart, and is just plain old. They will die soon, and it will be so hard to handle.

I received news today that my great-grandmother went to be with Jesus earlier this morning, and the memorial service will probably be this weekend. She had a stroke eleven days ago, and hadn't gained the ability to swallow back. She had made it clear to my grandmother and her siblings that she did not want a permanent feeding tube, so she was moved to a high quality hospice center for comfort care. Mom and dad were just talking last night about going to visit her this weekend if she made it that long. God prepared our hearts for the end, but it still hurts a bit.

My great-grandparents were some of the godliest people I have ever met, and they lived their lives with a purpose and a passion for God and lost people that I have never seen in any other people. They were a team, and they traveled the world together looking to spread the name of Jesus and His wonderful salvation. He passed away about two years ago, and now she can finally be with her husband again, without the pain of disease and old age. I know they both were shown some of their impact near their last days, with my great-grandfather holding the eighth edition of his Old Testament Theology book in his hands, and with my great-grandmother being sent notes of how her scholarship at Belmont University helped make education available to students. They had such an impact on the world, and I don't doubt that hundreds of lives have been changed because of their willingness to follow God.

Death for Christians should not be a painful thing. Death has no true power of us, we still live for eternity in Heaven. Death means no more pain, no more suffering, no more anguish, no more sin. But for those of us left here, it still hurts. Why? Because we don't want to see them gone. We are selfish, we want them here with us. But we should take comfort in knowing, that if they are a Christian, and we are as well, there will be a reunion in Heaven, and it will be beautiful and joyous.

"O Death, where is your sting? O Hades, where is your victory?" 1 Corinthians 15:55.
Emily

Bare Nakedness and the Problem of Privacy

Before you say anything, I am not going to talk about physical nakedness, okay. Just putting that out there.

No, I want to talk about spiritual and emotional nakedness. Because no one ever talks about that. I hear Christian leaders and bloggers say all the time, guard your heart, guard your heart, guard your heart. They say this in a way that does not mean, guard your heart from temptation, but rather you as a young women or young man need to put up walls so that no one can get to your heart, and see the real, genuine you. At least, that's how I've felt about it. And personally, that is what I've done. I've built up walls so no one can see who the genuine me is.

Do you want to know the genuine me? Well, get prepared.

I am dead.

What? Not what you were expecting? Me either. but it's true. I wake up so many days, and I feel dead. Dead to the world, dead to myself, dead in every sense of the word. But I am awake, and i am breathing, and my brain is functioning. So am I not dead? Or am I a zombie? functioning in the basic sense, but going through life as uninterested and lethargic as I have ever been? No, that can't be possible. I am a Christian, Christians aren't supposed to feel like this! But yet... I do.

And who can I talk to? I can't properly communicate with my parents about this. We've tried, it ended with me trying not to cry in a Chinese Buffet. My friends aren't in college, they aren't in similar situations to me. The two people that I used to turn to with questions have both moved to 4-6 hours away. I have no one who will understand. At least not here. so, I'm going to tell you all about it.

I have shut down. Emotionally, mentally, and I wouldn't be surprised that my body doesn't start shutting down and getting sick. I don't know how this happened, but I know that I hate it. I HATE living life in a blur, in a daze, going through the motions, not seeing, not feeling. And I can't find a way out.

Stress. This is what stress does. And it isn't acute stress, that which spurs you into action until you complete that which needs to be done. This is chronic, painful, overwhelming stress, and I don't think anyone understands that. I have a job that is constantly changing and screwing me over, I have classes that are coming to an end and one that I'm failing, I have things to be saving up for, and Christmas that I feel obligated to participate in, and applications to finish, and junk to get rid of, and it has swallowed me whole...

How did I let myself get this way? When did this happen? What is the point of going to college when I verge on the edge of a mental breakdown? How am I going to be a proper, productive adult in this society if I can't be productive within my own house?

And what do you care? Some people across the internet, on the other side of the computer screen, reading random words strung together. What amount of satisfaction does this bring to you? Why do you feel the ned to read my words, my stories? They do not affect your life, they do not have anything to do with you. But yet, here I am, pouring my broken, hurting soul and worries out to you. Is it going to make a difference? I don't know.

And if you are out there and you feel the same way, you aren't alone. We can get through this. I've always heard people say that the bad doesn't last forever, so it can't get much worse can it?

Emily E.

Love and Pain

So, this blog is a place where I let you all know what is going on in my  life as a Christian, as a college student, as a person, and it should be my top priority to first and foremost be as honest with you as I can possibly be. That being said, I have to tell you that I have not been writing very much lately because I just haven't felt inspired to write. When I do get some sort of inspiration, I am too busy with other things to write it then, and when I'm not busy, I've forgotten and the thought is long gone.

I think what has happened is I've reached a point of depression again. I am increasingly busy, with school, work, moving, and applying to Liberty taking up the majority of my time. I haven't had any one-on-one time with God in months, and it's taken it's toll on me and my outlook on life. I'm going through the motions, with no internal motivation behind my actions. I go to work, because I have to pay bills and save up money for college. I go to school so I can cut down on the total expense of college. I packed up and moved house because I still live with my family and I needed to. But what have I done for myself? I don't mean this in any selfish way, but I feel like I have completely neglected myself since the semester started.

To make matters worse, I have become emotionally exhausted. I've noticed over the past two weeks that I have the hardest time finding the good in things, I've been faster to snap at others than I used to, I hardly ever smile anymore. Joy seems nonexistent and happiness has all but packed up and left town. Every song I hear seems sad somehow, every face seems worn with sorrow. Even my pets seem to be slowing down and preparing for death. It is hard to go to sleep at night knowing I'll dream of when I was happy, when life didn't seem so miserable. It is hard to wake up in the mornings knowing that the day will bring me nothing but stress and anxiety.

I classify as an ENFJ personality, which stands for Extroverted, iNtuitive, Feeling, Judging. This means that I prefer the association of my friends, especially my close ones, than being alone; I run based off of feeling rather than rational thought. And if my feelings are not right, I do not function normally or efficiently. While this definition may sound as if I am classifying myself like a robot, it is true. I am not myself when I am like this. I am mopey, complacent, rude, and sluggish. Motivation is nonexistent, thus I do only what is required and even then I do the minimum to succeed.

But what is the worst about this, is that I relish it. By that I mean, I take these negative emotions, bottle them away inside, and hold on to them while listening to sad songs. I listen until it physically hurts my heart. Then I get up, and find something that will distract me and make me feel halfway decent until then. I look for the next tv episode, the next movie, the next book, the next whatever to keep me preoccupied. And when that is done, I feel even worse than before.

So what is going to make me better? The only thing that can make me better. Love. Not love from my family, from my friends, from a boy. But love from God. Love from Jesus. I started crying on the way home the other day as I realized that as much as I want someone to come in and sweep me off my feet, to come and give me a different life, that someone already did. The only reason Jesus came to earth was to love me.

Jesus is the Prince of Heaven. He has the second highest position in the Universe and in Time. Yet for some reason, He left all of that behind so He could show me, prove to me that He loved me. Jesus was trying to woo me. Jesus was trying to woo me. He wanted me to see how much He loved me and was doing everything in His power to make me see it. Guys, if that's not love, then love does not exist. Love is the reason for Jesus' earthly existence. It is the only reason. No one will ever love me like Jesus does.

And that makes me hurt even more. Because He loves me so much, He gave me everything He could. He gave His life for me, so I can spend the rest of existence with Him. When you think of it this way, Jesus was His own dowry. Jesus paid the cost of my soul so that I could spend the rest of my life with Him. Guys, when Revelation says that we are the bride of Christ, we are literally the bride of Christ. When Jesus came to Earth, not only was He pursuing us and trying to win our hearts, but He was proposing to us. As a Christian, I am married to Christ. My soul is His just like my body would be my husband's were I married.

And what have I given in return? Nothing. I've given Him nothing. I gave Him one summer out of eighteen years of life, if anything. But what kind of gift is that? That is nothing, I have given nothing. I have not given my job, I have not given my education, I have not given my heart, my entertainment. I would make a terrible wife. Yet, Jesus has not disposed of me, He has not divorced me. Better yet, He has called back to me, asking for me to come back. And I will always come running back. No matter what else distracts me, pulls me away, or hurts me.

Because no one will ever give me what Jesus gave me. Because no one will ever be available like Jesus is. Because no on will ever love me like Jesus does.

Updates and Stuff

So...this is long overdue, and I'm incredibly sorry about that. After school started back in August, life kind of took over and...yeah. So, any way, here's what's been happening in my life for the past two months.

So obviously, school has started back, and that has consumed the majority of my time. I also started my first job, which I absolutely love! I've also moved up to the college and career group at church, which was a very awkward transition for me, but it's actually really nice.  So between those three things, my life has been pretty busy nonstop. And then, on top of all that, my family and I are moving house...again. It just wasn't working out with the place we are in right now, so we took that as a sign that this wasn't the house God wanted us in. We have been looking into different houses in the area, and we found one that is almost perfect for our needs as a foster family. Six bedrooms, four bathrooms; it is a truly incredible house. The best part is that it is a foreclosure, and the inside has been completely redone. New carpets, new paint, new appliances, everything. Since it was in foreclosure, it was at a price we could afford. We are so blessed to be getting this house. God provides what His children need when they are faithful to ask! So we are beginning the process of packing and moving once again.

Things haven't been all happy rainbow sunshine though. About a month ago, I started experiencing some difficulty breathing, and we couldn't figure out what it was. I went to Minute Clinic later that week (I was not paid to say that by the way), and they said it didn't sound like asthma or any kind of respiratory infection, so they sent me home. But not until they looked in my ears and found a hole in my left eardrum.

Now, for those of you who know me personally, you will probably remember when my right ear drum ruptured. For those of you who don't, here's what happened. Back in 2011, my youth group was playing a game that involved water balloons and obstacle courses. I had gotten up off the ground and was immediately hit by a water balloon that had just been thrown. It was a complete freak accident, but what happened was the balloon didn't pop when it hit me. Instead, the latex (or whatever balloons are made out of) ended up going into my ear a little bit, thus creating a vacuum. Obviously, it didn't just stick to the side of my head, so when it fell and hit the ground, the vacuum caused my ear drum to be completely ripped out. So, I ended up having to get it replaced, which was actually really cool. But now I have to get the left ear drum replaced and it's going to be a hassle and it is going to be a big pain for all of us.

Anyway, I went to my primary care doctor last week to follow up on the breathing problem. She did some tests, and took some chest X-rays and she said there are no signs of infections or that asthma has resurfaced, as I can breathe out fine. She said she's sending the X-rays to a specialist and if anything else is found they'll call us. While that makes me feel better that my asthma hasn't come back, it still bothers me. My mom believes it may be anxiety, my body's reaction to having to adjust to the "grown-up" life. Having to work, and pay for things on my own, and things like that. While I don't feel anxious, that doesn't mean my mind isn't.

So, that has been really limiting to me, as I've wanted to start working out and get healthier, but I can't exercise safely if I can't take a good breath. I've also been trying to pick the clarinet back up, and I can't play if I can't get a good breath. Also, I have an audition for clarinet for the school's music program next week, so I'm really excited for that.

So this seems really long, but it's been two months and there are things you need to know. Also, with all of the moving and stuff, it is probably safe to say that I won't have a lot of time to blog for the next few weeks. So, if you don't hear from me until November, that is why.

In Christ,
Emily E.