The Thing With Feathers

  AUNT-HOOD.     I am so thankful for the thing that is aunthood. I have learned so much about others, Lord, the world and my place in it through this lovely bizarre thing. For those who don't know I have 20 nieces and nephews. My first nephew was born when I was 7. People kept nagging me about it which I was both pleased and annoyed with. Did I think it was weird? How'd I feel about it? What did I want to be called? Aunt, Ant? Um neither. Please. So weird. Then this little kid was born.   Cael. A shock of black hair. Freckles. I loved and love him so. I took pictures with my first ever Kodac camera. Man his skin was pink! So thankful that humourous, affectionate, passionately intense, class clown goofball of a now 14-year old (WHAT.EVEN.) was born. Really starting to live up to his nick-name..Caelman. Gives SUCH good hugs. The first to make me an Aunt. Aunt Rose, Aunt Rosie. Now two of the most beloved words in my life. ...

         An exert from my ask for partners in my attempt to get to Thailand. I was told by a friend and I agree that I should turn it into a picture book :) ...Hello Dearest Friends, I've been told by people wiser than me that I need to vision cast ...which makes me feel a little like a magician..I'm basically Genny Weasly guys.. ok!   ANYWHO. Are y'all comfortable? Can you see the pictures? Did you get your snacks? Just be careful, it's really hard to get crumbs out of that rug...ok. Let's begin. Once upon the beginning of time, God and people and animals all loved each other not just well, but perfectly. Peace on earth did once exist. SHALOM. My favorite word. I like to think we could see all the colors, just like hummingbirds, but cooler. Speakin...

You As In Me. you poor introvert soul you worry wort you need something somebody your body to remind you there  are things that happen outside of your  mind that are outside  of your control

Rambles from a 18 year old Rose... There's a bitterness so far back in my mind that I don't see it often, but it's there lying static. On one hand  I don't think it's growing, though on the other I don't want it there at all. I don't want it to affect my decisions and how I interact with the people in my life. My anxiety, (as I call it because I don't know what else to call it) my need to have it all together is not healthy. I've always wanted to have something to struggle with so I can seem heroic in the middle of my struggle. That desire has caused me to think of my anxiety as fine, because I get to be the romantic sufferget without doing any harm to others. I get to have something interesting to tell others, something to set me apart or make people look at me with respect. Like a kid with cancer. That's so messed up. I think that ignoring my need for help is one way to play out that desire while also trying not to affect other people wi...

Rambles from an 18 Year old Rose... "Perfect".  We all strive to reach perfection whether consciously or not. Most of us have an idea of what we think perfect looks like. Whether perfect is being fit, getting your driver's license the second it's legal, having a steady job, a summer tan; or having hundreds of followers on Instagram, a couple of inseparable friends, the ability to throw a football with ease, an A+, a shiny car, the cutest boyfriend, and acceptation to an ivy league school. Everyone knows those people who seem to meet or actually exceed these expectations. The people who manage to make even their mistakes seem flawless. The cliches abound on how "no-one's perfect", with the contradicting "everyone is perfect just the way they are" following close behind.  But let's face it. Some people are more talented, more attractive, more athletic, more responsible, more spiritual, more "perfect". However we as Christians ne...

A Letter from 17 Year old Rose to a Waverly...          Where to start? I guess I'll go back about a year to when I first read a book that changed how I think about me and God. The book was Trees Tall as Mountains, a collection of blog posts by Rachel Rae. She's a mom of 3 in her late 20s who writes about her struggles with depression and anxiety and how our God's been there for her. And even while I can't relate to her life I relate some to what she struggles with. Don't worry, I'm not depressed or anything but I've realized how much I deal with anxiety. I just thought of it as overthinking before. It creeps up on me when I feel okay in my own skin and tells me I really should be doing something else, thinking something else, saying something else or feeling something else. As if there was one right way to do things! Rachel talks about how her anxiety, her need for perfection, to keep it all together wears her out. It's the same for me. I have...

Ramblings from a 17 year old Rose... I'm not sure how to write about this but I'm gonna try. I feel as if I'm missing something, as if I should really be doing, thinking, feeling, or saying something else. And that puts a weight on me; it makes me feel as if I'm screwing up my life. I feel as if everything I do is being judged. It makes me feel as if I'm separated from God. Because how could God let me go through this? I'm so tired of it! I don't know how to get rid of it. How can I feel whole? I'm restless, irritated, dissatisfied. Is there something that's standing between God and me? Is that why I'm dealing with this? I don't know what to do,think,feel or say. But praise be to God... who I know will bring me through this, who hasn't abandoned me in my mess. The mess of insecurity. God's grace is sufficient for me. He loves me. Even when I feel as if I'm a mess, when I'm bloated from too much sugar and not enough water, h...

Ramblings from a 17 year old Rose... I think I really read that (or it clicked for me) for the first time a couple days ago. Just how much I want to know Christ not just know about him. And it's terrifying taking this desire of Paul's as my own because I have no clue what that will mean for me...I don't know how many relationships will break. I don't know how many times I'll be shoved out of my comfort zone. I don't know if I'll always believe in Christ or if I'll wander, and if I do for how long. I don't know how many people will hate me or look down on me for my faith. I don't know how many times I'll fail him. I don't know if I'll ever get married or if I'll ever have kids, and if I do how terrifying it must be to bring life that depends on you into the world. I don't know if I'll be on the missions field or my parents basement. I really have no clue. But I know that I can trust him, i know that he knows everything ...

Ramblings from a 17 year old Rose... ...And it doesn't help to say just act normal, be yourself, follow your heart, blah blah, yadda yadda. Because I'm all over the place! I don't know who I am. I'm different with different people. That's why it's so important that I don't stress about being myself. My identity, all that I am is in Christ. I'm still learning what that means. But all I have to worry about is following Christ 'cause that's what I was made for! That's when I'm most like me! 'Cause who I am is founded in who made me and his plans for my life. Just the thought of that freeing.           I feel like a tiny window has been opened in my brain and there is a small ray of light breaking into my mess silencing the thoughts that plague me. And it's just a little light. The dust will rise up and fill it. But that's what the light does. It shows the dust for what it is, lies! A waste of the brain God gave me.     ...

Ramblings from a 17 Year old Rose... The Lord is at work. There is beauty found in him even when there's none in me.  The lilac bush and peach tea will smell just as sweet even when I screw up.  The sun setting over the dogwood in streaks of gold and teal will be just as radiant even when I feel like a failure. The first fireflies blinking in the spring breeze will be just as thrilling even when I'm a mess. A glittering star peaking through an oak tree's branches is just as whimsical while I'm crumbling. The beauty of nature doesn't depend on me being perfect. It doesn't depend on me at all. All of this beauty comes from its creator and he is still marvelous even when I'm floundering. He is still God even when my life revolves around Netflix and procrastination. He is still good even when I do the things I shouldn't and abstain from doing the things I should. He is still looking after me even when I feel trapped in my own depravity. Nothing can chan...

Rambles from a 15 year old Rose... I'm one of those people who smile even when they're not okay. Hoping that by smiling I'll become happy. It's stupid, but I know I look better when I smile, instead of being "real".  At some drama camp Mrs. Landrum told us that no matter where on stage we were at least one person in the audience would be watching us. That stuck with me, except I applied it to my whole life and forgot to leave it on stage. That's not what God has called me to. Yes he calls me to praise him with my life.  But I don't have to be smiling to praise him, I can be weeping too. "I come to you with empty hands and a heart that's fragile, you come to me with a wholesping of love"  All the acting winds me up until I lose it. And by lose it I mean cry..alot..That's if I'm lucky. Sometimes I just stay wound up. God knows me, he sees past my facade to a person I don't know much about. I don't need to know myself mor...

Rambles from a 16 year old Rose... I think believing is a choice we have to make every day and trust that the feeling will come after...similar to how we have to keep on choosing to love someone even when it's hard and the feeling aren't there. Saying "Lord I believe, help my unbelief" is a choice. It's saying that you'll keep on believing no matter what your circumstance, but at the same time acknowledging that it's hard and we need God's help.  Why do I believe in God? Because he's my hope.

  Lol...memories...the first poem I ever wrote. Through snail-mail a dear friend asked me to write a poem on love or on nonsense, I decided to write it on both. Only she gets it (or does she?) and that's how it should be :) Love and/or Nonsense  (is there really a difference?) From one Weirdo to Another   Potatoes are so neat!  They are poofish not baked  You tell me they're sweet  But you don't understand Orange ice is comical  Don't be questioning me Making since is overrated  Just ask my grandchild she's crazy We understand one another Like...hmmm... So maybe we just smile and gibber  Understanding is overrated too  Love reaches across all boundaries  including all our foolery because we still go together  like dolphin waving and the Curtis Family Laughter is our soundtrack You can stare all you like We'll only giggle longer and with more delight Do...

Rambling from an 18 year old Rose... When I think of what I want from my life or the people I admire the Elliots and Christy and Lilias Trotter come to mind. All people who gave up so much to follow God. I have this romantic view of them, as if their life was one of glory. But it wasn't, it really wasn't. I admire them, I admire the hard choices they made. They didn't know that their stories would  become famous, that they would inspire thousands, millions even. I think a part of me wants the glory, the romanticized life. A bigger part of me wants it because I want to be brave like them. I want to be strong enough in my faith to make those tiny choices that all add up. I envy their faith. I envy that God chose to use them in that way. Which is crazy because they all went through so much. Elizabeth Elliot had two husbands and they both died. One of them murdered by the same people he came to serve. Her kids grew up without their dad. Christy gave up her life wit...