Before I had any notion of personality or character the first thing I knew about myself was that I was damaged goods. I wasn't up to snuff and as soon as I was old enough they were going to try to patch me up and make me more acceptable. Some people say "looks don't matter" but they might as well say "You're ugly, but don't worry about it. Old people can see past appearances."
      I became convinced nearly from the start that no boy would want my heart so I gave it a funeral and buried it alive. Ever since I've been sitting by it's grave telling it stories of girls whose hearts were wanted; girls who had problems and sometimes scars but never that inherent ugliness.
     I think, I hope, I am slowly beginning to unearth it again. I'm not sure what I'll find really.

So, as evidenced by my last post, every now and then I have little fits of depression in the middle of the night. I often write down part of what I've been thinking (my mind generally manages to cover a couple of different topics, so I can't ever write down all of it). In spite of the tears and misery, a small part of me almost enjoys it. Possibly this is just because it's a relief to let it all out since the issues are usually of very long standing, and there is always something satisfying about piecing together just the right words to express what you're thinking and feeling.
This morbid pleasure then urges me to share what I've written, and while I wouldn't ever want to share such self-pitying documents with someone in person, I thought I might post them here. It would be rather ironic content for such a hopeful sounding blog, and it is unlikely that anyone would enjoy reading them, but then hardly anyone looks at this blog anyway, so I'm going to post at least one or two more. We'll see how brash I'm feeling after that.

The pit that is my mind

I've made myself a prisoner of my own mind

I started climbing into it when I was 6 or 7 years old and before long I was sliding and then falling down into the dark muck below. There were things down there below me that I would sometimes feel gliding past me, like creatures of Hell threatening to catch me and drag me down deep below the surface of the muck, to bind me to whatever horror resides at the bottom so I could never come up again. As time went on I managed to climb a little ways up the wall and cling to the sides, but often I would lose my grip and fall back down again.

Gradually, I was able to climb higher and not fall so far down again, though fall I still do, but I have never been able to climb out. I'm still stuck here and it is very lonely and dark. I certainly don't want company here, it is a horrible place. I want to be free of this pit once and for all. I want to be with people and not always feel this separation from them. I want to know what they are feeling and not have to hear nothing but my own feelings over and over as the echo of them bounces off my prison wall again and again and again.

"And now these three remain, faith hope, and love...."
Some amount of faith and hope help adhere me to the wall, but to live all three out fully cannot be done from this dungeon.
Why can't I get out?
Do I not trust anyone to rescue me?
Do I not want anyone too?
Outside of this pit is a world I do not know. Perhaps I am too afraid to leave.

Fall is coming!! :)

It's coming

Can you see it?

The leaves begin floating to the ground

It's coming

Can you hear it?

The honking geese are heading south 

It's coming

Can you smell it?

The air is colder and cleaner

It's coming

Can you feel it?

The wind is feeling happy

and so am I.

-Anonymous

Pondering A Puzzling Predicament

Classes just started up again for the semester and for my online English class we were required to make a post on the discussion board introducing ourselves and telling a little bit about our families, interests,etc. A difficulty that many Christian students face is whether or not they should openly profess Christ without their beliefs being asked directly. Doing so would very likely cause a negative backlash from others in the class and even discrimination from the teacher. It is not unheard of that professors will flunk a student simply because he stood up for what he believed in. Some, like Dr. Jason Lisle from Answers In Genesis, would say that for the sake of a passing their classes, Christian students should not volunteer their religious beliefs until after they have graduated.
It seems to me though that there isn't one answer for everyone. God has different plans for different people and I think there are some who he wants to speak up and others whom he doesn't.Maybe it is His plan that a person gets flunked out for proclaiming their faith in Him, though that's not to say that they necessarily will. Whatever the outcome, God can use it to influence the lives of others and bring glory to Himself.

In most cases, I feel that God wants me to speak up. I have received negative reactions, ironically the most overt of which came from a Catholic, but it has also given me an opportunity to witness to my fellow students. While I never actually shared the gospel, I acknowledged and defended my beliefs on issues like evolution and embryological stem cell research, clearly taking my stance as a Christian. Throughout it all there was one positive reaction, which was encouraging more because of its openness and lack of hostility rather than any interest. This came from a woman, also from a Catholic background, who I shared several classes with. She seemed open to the idea of a creator, but, as she put it, "could definitely see how some of the people she knew could have come from an ape". I hope and pray that she will come to know Christ.

For now I will keep on saying whatever I feel the Lord leading me to say.

I've always known You, but I've only just met You

     Every once in a while I will experience this indescribable feeling. It usually comes when I'm outside; when the sun is rising early in the morning after it has rained all night and suddenly everything begins to shine, or on a cold, rainy day when a sudden gust of wind causes everything in its path to fly. I am always alone, without any particularly pressing matter on my mind, and for just a few moments I feel that glorious, exhilarating feeling. I don't want anything or anyone else; I just want to hold onto it and have it last forever. It's makes me feel as thought I would burst with joy and I all I want to do is run and sing and shout and fly. Then the moment passes and everything feels empty. Now and again when I think about it, I realize that I'm really just trying to get through the days until I experience it again; never knowing when it will come, but always hoping that it will be soon.

     I've often been told that God is the only one that will truly satisfy me. That when we went to Heaven we would spend eternity standing in God's presence singing praise to Him. I felt guilty because that sounded horribly boring to me. I tried to imagine it and saw a bunch of people standing around, sometimes milling about, lacklustrily singing hymns forever. And if anyone were to ask me to describe satisfaction, I couldn't do it. It was little more than a lifeless object that couldn't be conceived. I realized that it wouldn't be like that, and that we really would be satisfied and happy forever, but I simply couldn't conceive it, and consequently it meant little or nothing to me. To be perfectly honest, there were times when the idea of Heaven filled me with dread. It sounded so utterly boring. However, the other day it suddenly clicked.
     That feeling that I experience sometimes is God revealing just a tiny portion of His majesty to me. He knows that words cant come anywhere close to describing Him, so He showed Himself in a way that could be understood.