But I'm the Baby.

Whaaaat? 2 blogs within a 4 week time...it's sheer madness.

Well this is just more of a funny story to tell you just how ridiculous I am. I hope you laugh.

My sister is my best friend. She's 11 years older than I am which means that when I was little, she was old enough for me to idolize. Sometimes people would point out pictures of her to me and I'd say that it was me. When I was in first grade I vividly remember getting in trouble for writing her name down on my paper instead of my own. My sister has the most beautiful curly hair, so I used to sleep in rollers so that my hair could look like hers, it never did. I started dance lessons because I remember her costumes. There are videos of tiny me dancing and singing and being ridiculous because my sister would tell me to. I remember my sister teaching me to tell time. To drive. She told me a joke about having "kid knees." I remember that after she'd drop me off, I'd cry because just loved her so much. Pure love :)

As I grew up, she became very influential in developing this sense of learning. From taking me to zoos to the Science Place and museums, that's where it all started. Why I want to see and experience the world. She's not only the reason I love it, but the reason I know that I can. That I can do anything I set my mind to. She's inspiring.

I don't remember a lot about when my dad died or the time around then. I know that it took the same toll on her that it did me. Maybe worse in different ways. What I do know, is that when I decided to ask questions, I could turn to her. I could cry. We could both cry. We could be completely silent on two ends of phones, states and an ocean apart, and having a full conversation.

When my sister was getting married, I was nothing but excited. I never thought twice about what it meant for us, which is good, because it didn't change anything about us at all. We're best friends. We get mad at each other. She tells me I use too many exclamation points, I tell secrets I'm not supposed to (still to be debated). But I love her more than anything. I would do anything for her and give her anything I could, and I know that she would do the same for me.

My sister is within 2 weeks of having a baby.

I have been so excited for 8 1/2 months about Lennox Patrick Luttrell joining this family and the ridiculousness that is our relationship. I've loved him and been excited and prayed for him since I knew he'd be around. but last week it hit me. My sister, my best friend was about to be someones mom.

I'm not sure why I didn't think about this sooner, but I was sitting at work and I panicked and I just started crying.

Seriously?! I couldn't wait 15 more minutes to leave work to burst into tears over the most childish moment of my post teenage years?

But there it was. Maybe the most selfish I've felt in a long time. Maybe it's just because it's fresh on my mind.

She's not going to be mine. She can't be my best friend. Even though she won't be working, she won't be able to text me as much. What if I need her? What if she's the only one that'll understand?

What if she likes the baby more than me.

My whole life, I've been the youngest. I never had to share. I never had to fight for attention. I was automatically the favorite because I was the only one around. I've always been the baby.

At this point, you may be laughing. Which is good. I'm very dramatic. While this is how I felt, I worded it so that hopefully you'd find humor in my predicament. Onward....

So I realized I had this terrible older child syndrome. Not really because he won't be my little brother, but I am equally being dethroned. It sucks.

I'm not sure how this will play out. Certainly, you can say, "oh, she'll always be your sister" "she still loves you very much" "blahblahblah," but things will be different. It has to be. That's life. It's what makes us adaptable, change.

Well, I thought talking about it would make me feel better, but it didn't. I am still the most selfish person I know I right now. I am also still torn, because I am super pumped to have a little person that I can hopefully be as important to as my sister has been for me.

Nox, if you ever read this, I really do love you. I am excited for you. I can't wait to meet you and hold you and teach you everything I know.

This isn't Facebook worthy. It's terribly written. There's no hopeful message. There's really no lesson learned. Yet.

I guess that's where we part ways. One day I'll look back on this and it'll help me get through something else. I'm being prepared, I just don't know why or for what or when I'll need this, but I know that day is coming.

I love you too, you know. And I hope that you love me. Even when I'm dramatic and selfish.

I am We

Well here I am. 5 months since my last post. They certainly have gotten to have more space in between them. And between this and my last post you'd think I'd permanently moved onto a soapbox. But I don't care. Not right now at least.

I'm sure if you're my friend on Facebook, you may think I'm an eyesore right about now. From political nonsense that I've been posting to the posts about all the executions I've been learning about lately.

More importantly right now is about the latter, but I'm almost positive the former will come up again. Probably in a post.

Now, when asked in the past, I could very easily tell you I was pro-life. I only realized recently just how pro-life I was and exactly what that meant to me.

It all started a few weeks ago when Megs got me hooked on politics. I can officially tell you about any candidate running and have well rounded opinions on all of them. My least favorite candidate happens to be the frontrunner. I realized he was my least favorite candidate when he was asked a question concerning whether it had ever phased him that he had executed more people in his 11 years as governor than anyone else anywhere else. Not only did he say no, but the crowd actually started applauding when they announced the official total at 234.

Don't worry, my opinion will come.

This lead us to looking into all these executions to find cases not only where people who's guilt was questionable, but cases where the sentencing was based on race. One such case was suppose to be coming to a close last week at the execution of another man. His guilt was not in question, everyone knows he did it. The problem is that to be sentenced to death in Texas, they have to have reason to believe that you'd probably commit this crime or be violent again in the future. Without ever meeting this man, a psychiatrist said he should be put to death based on his race and the jury accepted that. They stayed his execution last minute.

Because of all the commotion that Duane Buck's case had brought up, we noticed that another individual was going to be executed in Georgia, Troy Davis. This case has been widely publicized and covered by just about every kind of media worldwide there possibly was. While they were once positive this man killed a cop who was coming to the aid of a homeless man, 7 of the 9 eye witnesses recanted they're stories. One of the 2 that didn't recant was the man that not only turned Troy Davis in, but was the other man with Davis involved in the crime. A couple of the people that recanted said that they were coerced into blaming Davis and a couple said that Sylvester Coles (the other man) admitted to having shot Officer MacPhail. Who's telling the truth? Well, honestly I don't think we'll ever know.

I haven't cried much lately, but both of the times I have recently have to do with these 2 men. The first, because I was reminded of just how merciful God is. And the second was when the Supreme Court denied another stay to Troy Davis an hour ago.

I don't think it's fair. It's a complete travesty. Execution doesn't provide justice, it creates resentment, hate, and holes in the hearts of his loved ones.

I guess you can see which side of the fence I'm on.

It makes most sense to me. I think I can Biblically support what I believe in. I would argue it with anyone. Even after everything that I've been through, there's not a doubt in my mind that 2 murders don't bring anyone back and that "an eye for an eye only ends up making the whole world blind." Gandhi.

So as I sat praying, for (I'll admit) the second time in the past 2 weeks, I asked that God find another way to save him. To stop this because I knew He could. My clock said 10:07 and I just didn't know what to think. I knew it would start after 10, from following a live blog of updates, but I kept thinking that news would come that there was a power outage or a shift was changing or there had been a big misunderstanding or they just changed their minds because it didn't feel right. And that's when I started this...but shortly, very shortly thereafter:

"Georgia inmate Troy Davis was executed Wednesday night for the 1989 murder of Mark MacPhail, an off-duty Savannah police officer.

Davis died at 11:08 p.m. ET, according to a prison official. The execution was about four hours later than initially scheduled, because prison officials waited for a U.S. Supreme Court ruling on Davis' request for a stay."

That's it. Just like that he's gone and I just kinda feel sick. Nothing about this seems right or natural. I'm trying to figure out where I was when God came down and gave humans the right to start killing each other off. The last thing I heard on the subject is don't murder, don't seek revenge, turn the other cheek, and leave it Him. But I very easily could have missed it. Probably while I was in Australia. And as I sat here thinking about how unfair it was, God reminded me of my very first post. The one about Trent. I remember when he died. I remember not only thinking about how unfair it was, but how young he was and how noble he was. I remember that I wrote him a letter, that I put in the box with many others, and that I said that I knew there was a purpose for everything, sometimes we're patient enough to wait for it and other times we're just blinded by emotion, but that doesn't make His plan any less prevalent.

So that's what I've been thinking about. What does God want me to do with this? How is this helping me become who I'm supposed to be? Why has this been on my heart lately? Why am I so convicted in how I feel? Why do I care about criminals?

I can't say for sure. I don't know what His plans are, but I think it's because I know the feeling. I think it's because I'm a sinner. Because I'm learning that I'm not any better than they are and that eventually my sins will weigh out equally. I think it's because He knew He'd get my attention. I think it's to remind me that bad things happen to good people so that other good people can step up and be more like Jesus. I think I'm supposed to step up. I think Troy's death is going to send shock waves of change that inspire people to be different. To think different. To act different. To believe differently. His life may have ended, but I think this is just the beginning.

In the face of despair, tragedy, and injustice, we have to believe in God and the work He's still doing not only in us, but through us. Even when we don't realize it. Even in our deaths.

Well, I love.

Yes, I love you. But I also just love because that's what I was asked to do. Unconditionally. Non-judgmentally. Everyone. Everywhere. All the time. No matter what. Because that's what He does for me. And for you. And for Duane Buck. And for Troy Davis. We are just who we are (thank you, Ke$ha). I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together (thank you Beatles).

King of Everything

I'm going to say it. And you might not be happy about it, but happiness isn't the bigger issue here.

First, you should know that I love God. I love Him by every name you could possibly give Him, and there are hundreds...and I love every single one. They are all the same to me. The same being in our ever present existence.

I cried the other day for what you may think is really silly. It was the first time I've cried since I've been here and I'm pretty sure it was the first time I've ever cried over something that wasn't completely selfish. But I’ll get to that…

Last summer, I visited a different church almost every Sunday. In Baton Rouge, it was a different religion every week. For no reason in particular, really, other than that's just the way it worked out. When I came home, I knew I needed a church to go start going to. Danae and I visited lots of churches and talked about each one after, until we found one that was the perfect fit for us both.

Last semester, I took a trip to Salt Lake City for AIChE, where I started learning a lot about the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. Soon after realizing how little I really knew about them, and what they believe, I also realized I knew very little about what any other religions believed. So when I was looking through classes to take here, I considered religious classes, since none are offered at the U of A. Because World Religions wasn't offered at a time I could take it, I decided to take Islam. And why not? It's a major world religion that I knew absolutely nothing about and has been spotlighted lately.

I've been in the class for 7 weeks now, and I love it. At first, I was bummed, because I wanted to talk about the theology of it the whole time, instead of learning about the culture and history as well...but I've loved every part it. If I hadn't learned the history, I wouldn't have learned that everyone really does have an ugly side. That Christians haven't always been as great as most, including myself, may think. The things that were going on behind the slogan "God's wills it" might honestly horrify you. It did me. And I'm not saying that Muslims didn't do their fair share of wrong-doings, but it's one thing for everyone to be aware of it, and another to be hypocritical of it.

Where to begin? Well, I'm not Muslim, I know that better now then I did at the beginning of the semester. I never intended on converting, I only meant to learn a different side of God. What they think, how they feel, and why. And they are a very religious group of people. More religious than some if not most of my Christian friends. I'm not trying to offend anyone; I hope you know that. I'm just stating what I've learned. They not only believe and profess but they live it. They are doers.

Among the slides of history and theology, my professor puts up verses from the Qur'an that stand behind what he teaches. Now, I know how they feel about the Qur'an, who it was written by, what it stands for and where the Bible falls into place among Muslims, but that’s not the bigger issue either. My point is on judgment.

One verse says “Say: He is God, the One and Only; God, the Eternal, Absolute; He begets not, nor is He begotten; and there is none like unto Him.” Qur’an, 112:1-4.

This seemed to raise a number of concerns when I made it my status on Facebook. As I suppose I should have seen coming, but I didn't, because I just don't see things the way most people do. Maybe I'm wrong, but this is what I believe. This is what is inside of me. It comes from the same place that makes me cry. It's what makes me, me. It's who God made me and I know it's playing a major role in the person He's helping me to become.

So here it goes: I loved it. I loved a verse in the Qur'an. As it turns out, I love a lot of verses from the Qur'an. I love things about Islam too. Not everything, but some things. And I don’t agree with a lot of things, but I do some things. And for me, there's nothing wrong with that. I learned something in class, and I wanted to share it. Not to convert or offend anyone, but just to share. For me, it would be no different from putting a quote from an author, or song lyrics.

At this point, you may be wondering...Well if you're so ok with what you're doing, then why get upset? That's simple. I knew people didn't have a problem with the words; it was the fact that I was quoting from the Qur'an and that's why I cried. I knew that if I had just put up the quote, and not put where I had gotten it from, lots of people would have liked it. And why not? All it says is that God is the ultimate. There's no lie in what the verse says. No one would have cared if I had said I heard it in a song, or even if it was just my opinion or if I had found it worded so eloquently written in the sand. And I can't speak for God, but for me that's wrong.

Just so you know: Muslims believe in the same God. There are differences, of course, as with any religion. But ultimately, He is the same God for Muslims. He's the same God for a lot of religions. And they all love and worship Him.

It's one thing for people to not like me, fine. Don't like me. Don't like what I have to say. I didn't cry because it hurt me or my feelings. I cried because I think it's a truly sad day when people forget to love and decide to judge instead. Instead of having a yearning to learn, they decide to criticize what they don’t fully understand. And that’s what this boils down to. Let’s judge what other people believe in, even if I know nothing about them.

I love Yahweh. I love Allah. I love Elohim. I love Him in every language. He is King of everything. Not just Christians. Not just Jews. Everything. He made every plant, animal, and bug in love. Everything was done in love. And for me, Christianity is supposed to be about love, acceptance, and forgiveness. If Jesus wasn't put on this earth to judge, then what gives us the right to think that we can?

When Jesus was here, he never said he couldn’t be around someone. He was with lepers, tax collectors, Jews, and Gentiles: sinners all the same. “…for ALL have sinned and fall short of the glory of God,” (Romans 3:23). And Romans 3:9 talks entirely about how we are all the same, “Shall we conclude then? Are we any better? Not at all! We have already made the charge that Jews and Gentiles alike are all under sin.”

I believe that the world would be a much better place if we got rid of all the Us vs Them complexes and we all decided to love everything the way He loves everything and the way He still loves us. “But God demonstrates His own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8).

I judge people sometimes. People walking down the street. People at the train station. People in my classes. People in the library. I do. I’m not saying I’m perfect. I’m not even saying I should try to be. It’s about acceptance. This isn’t just about Christians and Muslims, it’s about judging every book by its cover, and I’m going to make a serious attempt to stop. To love everything God made because He loves me and I don’t deserve it.

I’m also not saying you should go out and learn all about other religions. Maybe you want to, and that’s fine, and if you don’t, that’s fine too. We are all different. Every person unique to themselves. We should appreciate that in everyone. Every color. Every religion.

My point is made clearly by some wise words from a friend: “No matter what other people believe in, we serve a God who loves them all.”

If God loves everyone, then so should we. It’s that simple.

I love you. No matter what you believe and how it may contrast in what I believe. I love you even if you don’t love me.

And I hope you have a great day. Or night, of course. Depending on the hemisphere you're in.

Silver Linings

Hello. You. There.

I didn't really know where to go after my last blog. What do I blog about if I don't blog about myself? Well, that may be the point. Perhaps for a while I'll focus less on me and rules here and there and more on everything else in between.

I have no revelational thoughts. Just something I learned in my Aboriginal Studies class last week! So here's a little history lesson for you...

Basically, Australia's beginnings weren't the most innocent. Go figure, right? The English colonized the place with convicts and ex-convicts. When they got here, they found the Aborigine people. The Europeans wanted the land plus they had guns (all happening around 1770), the Aborigines had the land and no guns, so I'm sure you can guess who won. The settlers saw the people as an eye sore and thought it would be better to just get rid of them all, so they set up this fancy board of people to "protect them." This meant that they would move them all to reservations, take away all their belongings, break apart their families, and force them to act as European as possible. They weren't allowed to do traditional things, tell their stories, dance, or even speak their language. Their every move was watched, because the settlers thought they would die out. I read a quote that said they were "smoothing the pillow of a dying race." Sad stuff!

When they weren't dying off, they took the lighter skinned people and married them off to out breed them, and they took at least one child from every family to send them to schools to teach them to be slaves. It's called the stolen generations. And people were taking their kids, legally, until 1969 when it was outlawed, but it still happened long after! That was only 42 years ago!

Ok, so among the research I did, I found out that part of the legislation set (Aboriginal Protection Act 1909), said that the board distributed things like blankets and clothes. The people weren't even allowed to own things as simple as a blanket or something to wear! It says that it all belonged to the board. So I was really upset about all this, but then in my tutorial class, I learned something really incredible.

Because none of the things distributed belonged to the people, the managers of the camps kept blanket lists, to ensure they were all returned. It was the only record keeping they had of the people. And now, years later, people who were taken from the camps used these lists in order to find their families, and find out about where they came from.

I just love that God works in the most mysterious ways. Honestly, if the blankets were just blindly distributed (granted, like they should have been), there wouldn't have been lists. And years later, these people would be left to wonder where they came from and about their family! It takes a special kind of plan to make things work out like that, right? I think it's a special kind of beautiful.

Other updates? I finally went to the training day to start volunteering! I signed up to work a Moms and Kids weekend camp over Mothers day weekend. I'm really excited since I can't spend Mother's day with my own mom. I can't wait to tell you all about it!

I love you. That's all I have to say. I hope you enjoyed the short history lesson I offered.

Spilt Milk

Well, as you may, or may not have noticed, I updated my FB status the other day to read something along the lines of:

"My day, my week, my weekend, ruined. This seriously cannot be happening to me."

Ok, so that's exactly what it said. Now, you may be wondering: "What on earth could have been so bad to ruin an experience in Australia?!" Many dear friends even commented and messaged me letting me know that I was in their prayers and at the time, I felt like they were well deserved. So here's what happened....

On Wednesday's, my friend Gini and I always make something special for dinner. We always stop at Cole's (the grocery store) on our way home from school that day since we usually decide what we feel like last minute. Before meeting Gini on campus, I always listen to my iPod. It's always in my wristlette because it's he most perfect fit since it seems I rarely have pockets. This week, Gini bought the groceries for dinner that we would later split, and I bought another box of baked cheese crackers because they are my new favorite afternoon snack. We stopped in the self check-out, as usual. But unlike usual, I had some change to pay for the box of crackers as opposed to using my debit card. In order to get the change out of my wristlette, I took out my iPhone and set it on the counter. As I paid, I looked down and thought to myself...do NOT let yourself forget that, because I know that's something you would do. I wasn't in a rush, so I wasn't too worried about it, but as I was trying to stuff my change back in my purse, grab my receipt, and crackers a line formed and I felt rushed and in the mix of it all, I just grabbed everything and left. As soon as we made it outside, I opened my box of crackers and snacked while we waited for the train. We then made dinner as usual, ate, and got ready to go out for a little while with our friends.

When I got back later that night, I got ready for bed, turned off the fan and lights and laid down. After a few moments, I realized I needed to see what time my alarm was set for so I reached over where I usually put my phone when I get home from school...and it wasn't there. So I got up and checked my backpack. And it wasn't there either. I proceeded to empty all of my drawers, threw the papers on my desk on the floor and then emptied my backpack again and it wasn't anywhere. I started thinking back, as fast as I could, to the last time I used it and it was right before I met Gini. I took it out to pay for the crackers at Cole's and remembered looking at it thinking, do NOT leave that. And then that guy came up right behind us and I just wanted to leave and we left and....we left. I had left it. I knew I did. That was the last time I had seen it.

So I got redressed and ran to Cole's. Yes, at 2 am. Luckily, they're open 24/7, and I've never understood why, but I couldn't have been more thankful for that. The whole walk over there, which was quite a few blocks and mostly sketchy considering the time of night and the fact that pubs were closing down, I just kept having flashbacks of the first time. My ruined 19th birthday. The panic and the disappointment and worst of all, having to tell people that I was so irresponsible. And then I started walking past groups of drunks in the alleys, ignoring cat calls, and with my security/rape whistle tight in my hand, I just started to pray. The conversation kind. And I prayed to stay calm and focused and I prayed that I wouldn't get mugged on my way or jumped and stabbed in one of these alleys. Ridiculous? Yes and no, you know how silly I can be sometimes.

When I finally made it, I just asked if anyone had turned in a phone, which they hadn't. Tears started breaking in the corners of my eyes and we talked about security cameras on the self-check out, but they said I'd have to come back at 8:30 to see it. I walked outside, I sat on the curb and I just let my face fall into my hand s and I cried. Just when I thought I was becoming more responsible, I start making freshman mistakes. The thought of having to tell my mom and my sister...again, was painful. I just let myself sit there for a few minutes before I started walking back. My plan was just to not go to sleep. To stay up and get ready for the day, make breakfast, and be there promptly and professionally at 8:30 am. So I stopped at the Hub (city campus computer lab building place), and got on FB, updated my status, checked my email, and then encouragement hit. Friends were commenting on my status and sending messages and letting me know that whatever happened, it would be ok. I had their prayers. I felt even more sick. But this sick wasn't just any guilt sickness, it was the serious kind of guilt sickness.

I live in a world of wristlettes and iPhones and MacBooks. Trains and daily groceries. The other day, Megsy was telling me about how sucky classes have been this semester and that finding a silver lining was getting to be really hard. My reply? At least there aren't bombs going off outside the window as she was trying to do homework. Jokingly, yes, but seriously. There are people in so much more need than me and a small piece of technology. Even if my entire life was on it. Which made me realize something very important about myself....that's not very good. Yes, I'm dramatic...to say the least. I've never really thought of it as a problem, but too much of anything can be hazardous...including myself. Especially myself.

I realized that I spill milk, I don't just cry, but I lay down in it, throw a temper-tantrum, and then get up-soaked in milk, and walk to the grocery store to ask them why me. And then I wear a milk stained shirt around so everyone knows just how not perfect I am. I'm doing it right now. Airing my dirty laundry.

I'm finding it harder and harder to find a place in between. To live in the tension of 2 lives. Either I am as honest as I can be, so that I don't trick myself into believing I'm someone I'm not, or I just stop. I stop spilling the most intimate parts of me and waving them around like I surrender. I just don't know what else to do. And I'm so young to feel like I live in a crisis for Christ, when I have my entire life ahead of me still. I haven't hit anything close to hardships yet but I feel stuck. Stuck in the middle with you.

On top of that, I wasn't entirely surprised that I had lost my phone, again...because like I said, I was waiting for the plug to get pulled on the fairytale I've been living. And when all this happened, I knew it had been coming.

The rest of the story?

I left the hub after about 30 minutes, now making it 3 am. I walked back up to Brown Street and decided to throw in the towel, and go to sleep. I figured out how to set the alarm on my Australian phone and checked and emptied and moved everything one more time and then fell into my bed. After what seemed like just a short period of time, because it was, I could hear a buzzing. I thought it was an awful trick my subconscious was playing on me. And then I heard it...Bruno Mars singing to me as he does every morning and on this particular morning at 6 am. Of course, I jumped up and started ransacking my room again, homework papers flying everywhere before I realized it was in my backpack. And there it was, letting me know it was time to get up.

I'm honestly not sure how it happened. I checked my backpack 3 times. Twice by completely emptying the contents onto my bed and yet there it was, as if nothing had happened at all. You can think I'm crazy, or that I didn't thoroughly check it, but why would I risk my life at 2 am to go to the grocery store if I wasn't 1000% sure it wasn't in my room. Oh well.

The point is this, I am the "ye of little faith." I have been looking for something to go wrong, instead of just letting things happen. I had come to the conclusion that my life and trip was ruined over something as small as a telephone. I was so convinced that God couldn't just let my life be, that anything could have happened, a paper-cut, and I would have acted hysterically. If I spend my life focusing on all the bad things that happen (or in this case, didn't even happen), I won't notice the amazing things that come along as well. I'll never let myself fully enjoy anything if I continue to focus on what could go wrong and not fully put my faith in God.

I'm not entirely sure what I was supposed to learn from this experience. But these are my thoughts. I guess that's just me. Maybe someday, I'll look back and read this and know exactly what I gained from it. As for today, I'm just glad that Bruno Mars will continue to wake me up in the morning and that there aren't bombs going off outside my window.

I love you. As much as ever. Which is more than usual because of all the oceans it has to span to get to where you are.

Sundae, Sunday

Hello there friend! It's another rainy day here in Newcastle. Not much going on....so why not blog?

I don't have a great deal to share today. Just a thought that came to me earlier this week. It's not anything new I suppose, but I found a better way to explain the sudden change. And what better way to describe it than with delicious desserts :))

I realized after my post, I made it sound as though I might sound like an alcoholic. Not true. I also realized I gave off the wrong impression when it comes to drinking. I don't think it's wrong. But that could be an entire post in itself, so I'll save it for when it's a more pressing issue. No, this is about something else. This is for lent. It's just about giving something up. Certainly, it should be something that means a lot to me...but this doesn't. What I do think, is that it may be getting in the way of my focus and this is the best way I can put it.

God brought me here. He blessed me with this trip and I have absolutely no idea why. None whatsoever. I had no idea why I went to LSU last summer either, but after the trip, I realized what a better person I was for it. I look back on my blogs and I'm inspired by who I was last summer. I didn't drink at all then and yet, I made amazing friends with similar goals who were inspired by me as well. If I didn't share anything else, I shared my love of life and my joy for simple things like jumping pictures and that left a bigger impression than I've left here in the month and a half that I've had.

So the at the base of this sundae is a split banana for my trip. And then He piled on ice cream of the good fortune I've had with funding and support. And then he poured on chocolate and caramel syrups for the luck in finding an affordable and mostly nice place to stay. And the nuts are the friends I've made since I've been here. And the whip cream is the constant support I'm now getting from friends and family back home. And the cherry on top? Nothing seems to be going wrong for me.

I feel like I have a very specific purpose for my life. Everyday I feel like I've been given a gift in the fact that I'm completely in tact. I didn't wake up to ruins or to the aftermath of an earthquake or tsunami. God has entrusted something with me. A plan. An ice cream sundae plan. I don't think that drinking is wrong, but I do think there is something wrong with making stupid decisions when drinking. I usually don't, but that doesn't mean it's too late to start. So what if I was the one making bad decisions with this gift? What if I took this spectacular ice cream sundae God made especially for me and I threw it in the dirt?

I feel like that's what I would be doing if I let anything cloud my judgment. I don't want to miss any opportunity I may be given. I don't want to skip any steps of this plan or process, because then it just won't be right. Does that make sense? If God has a specific plan for me and why I'm on the other side of the world as we speak, then why would I be so selfish as to make this about me. What I want to do. How I want to spend my time. I can't. That'd be rude. That'd be taking a gift and throwing it in the dirt. I asked to be here and I don't think He just does things to do them. There's a plan here.

I hope that clears things up. I hope you see the ice cream sundaes that God has made for you for the exact place that you are in your life. I hope that you see the banana, ice cream, syrups, nuts, whipped cream and cherry on top of your life and just devour it. That's why He made it for you. Not to look at until it melts, but to enjoy it the way He intended you to.

God loves sweets. And so do I. And I love you. And so does God.

Have a spectacular, spectacular week!

Amnesian

Honestly though, I should just go to sleep. It's 11:21 on Sunday night and I have to get up to do laundry before class, but I won't be able to sleep if I don't confess right this second.

In case you haven't been reading lately, I'm in Australia. I've been here about a month and half and it's been fantastic. I live near the beach. I can take the train to school. My classes are manageable. And I've made some pretty good friends! All in all, I'm living a pretty top notch life these days.

This weekend I went to Surfest at a local beach and laid out all day. I play in the waves and dry off in the sun. Tonight I made enchiladas for dinner (finally), I had a cookie for desert with a glass of milk. I cleaned my room and showered. I painted my nails. Then I got on the computer to waste some time before going to bed. After exhausting Facebook and email, I thought I'd check up on my blog.

Since I had free time, I thought I'd read through some old posts. I read about when I found out I was coming here and about my internships later this year. I read about my mom. I read about church. I read about flowers. I read my very first post. And then I read what I posted on my birthday. All of a sudden I remember why I started blogging and I couldn't be more thankful for having this reminder here.

My blog has always been great to let out all I've been feeling. To share what I've been thinking. To share what God has been doing in my life. But now, this blog and I have taken our relationship to a whole new level. It grounded me. I read these blogs and I admired the person I was. I have all the same goals, don't get me wrong, but since being here, there has been something off. I read scripture after scripture and line after line of pure faith. I read about being nervous that I'd stop leaning on God when the first thing went wrong, but it was the opposite. I stopped leaning because my life is so right. And what's worse is that I see what I am struggling with now, and it's almost like I don't even care to fix them. Who on earth have I turned into?

I haven't changed as much as I'm probably making it sound but there's definitely something different inside of me. It's not that God isn't there, it's more like I'm choosing to pretend He isn't. It's like I've subconsciously rearranged my priorities without God's permission, but He's letting me, of course. He's never been the pushy type.

One of the things I was adamant to pack was my Bible, but please ask me how many times I've opened it since leaving Fayetteville...you're right, it's none. When I first moved into my room here, it used to sit on my desk, haunting me until I'd open it. I realized just now, while reading through blogs, that at some point I moved it to a drawer. I had planned on reading it on my balcony in the mornings, but I haven't done that once. It's especially crazy to think that I "don't have time" for that now, when my classes don't really start until 11 most days and I always have a 12 minute train anyways.

I remember wanting to study abroad so much. I wanted to travel and meet new people and casually share my faith and I thought I'd be volunteering. When everything worked out too perfectly, I thought that this must be what God wanted too. And it probably was, but that's not who I've been at all. Sure, I've been traveling and meeting people, but I left out the other half of the bargain. I was supposed to go to a training day this afternoon in order to volunteer next month, but that was an afterthought to the beach. Not to mention the fact that I haven't told anyone anything that I believe.

I skyped a really good friend of mine a few weeks ago and she asked something along the lines of wondering if I did anything besides drink and go dancing. Yikes. Sure, she said it in a casual way. I'm almost certain she didn't mean for me to read into it. I also know she wasn't judging me in any sort of way, it was just a comment. I'll admit, since I've been here, I have been drinking again. I'm not sure why. It's not like I can't have fun without it. It's not like I don't have better things to spend money on. Maybe it's part of this new kind of freedom. Maybe it's whatever I didn't get out of my system before. I couldn't tell you. But I can tell you, that every time I've had a sip of something since, those words replay in my mind. It was like being slapped in the face with a distorted version of the truth, but it was just what I needed.

I know this isn't what God had in mind when He sent me here. I'm not sure if I've already missed the opportunity He had in mind for me either. I do know this, from here on out, things will be different. Besides drinking, I've also been gossiping a lot. To go along with gossiping, I haven't been very nice to someone here. I need to work on both of those.

And finally, I haven't had a real conversation with God since leaving Fayetteville either. Perhaps small ones, but obviously nothing that I can really recollect. I would wake up early everyday to pray and for it to just be me and Him and it's like I've been cheating on God with my earthly life. I've been so caught up in myself and this fabulous and wonderful life He's given me to stop and see what's up with Him.

I'm sure this is just turning into a rant so I'll try to sum up the problem and the solution. Well, you've got the problem by now I'm sure. My solution? Lent started almost 2 weeks ago now, and I didn't bother to give anything up because I live on limited resources anyways, but I can give this up. Alcohol. I never thought I'd say it was a problem in my life, and to be honest, it's not a problem, but I know my life could be more full, more clear, and more focused on a higher plan if I just nixed it for a while. In addition to giving it up, I'm going to go back to waking up early and reading scripture. I've been out of the swing of things for a while, so for now I'll start with reading Proverbs for the day. As time goes on, I'll branch out and start reading somewhere else again, but for now I think I need a dose of wisdom. And with reading, I'll spend time in prayer. Just me and God. No distractions.

I'm so thankful that I am writing these experience down. I hope that there are days when you are bored so you decide to read from a wiser me and that I can help you through similar slumps.

I'm sorry if you read this and I've let you down in some way. But mostly I'm sorry that it's taken me this long to realize that I had sat down when I was supposed to start running down this new path God had paved for me. I'm scared that I won't have any purpose here now, but I know God will take care of it.

I love you. And for now, that's all I have to offer.

Goodnight or goodmorning! Depending on the part of the world that you're in

:)