Seasons

First of all to my sweet friend Ann-Marie: your blog is coming, I promise. Ok, so recently I finished reading Psalms (for 8 *millionth* time in my life because I just love it so much and learn something new every time) and was on the hunt for a new book of the bible to chew on. So, I started praying asking God to lead me to what he wanted me to read. One morning I came upon Ecclesiastes and knew that was what I needed to be reading. It has spoken to my heart in so many ways. As most of you know, this summer I spent the majority of my time in Mentone, Alabama at Ponderosa Bible Camp. My heart felt so at home there and it was difficult (to say the least) to leave the people I had grown to love, and the place I have loved since I was a little girl. I have known for many years now that God is calling me to be in Alabama later in life. What's been driving me nuts is that I know he's saying "Not yet" and I want him to say "Yes! Go now! I'll open every door you need!". Ecclesiastes talks deeply about something I've really needed to hear lately: There is a time for everything. "A time to be born and a time to die. A time to plant and a time to uproot, A time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build, a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance, a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, a time to embrace and a time to refrain, a time to search and a time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw away, a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak, a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace." (Ecc. 3:2-6) So, what I'm learning is just like the passing seasons, such is this time in my life. But here's the thing about seasons, no matter what season it is there will always be sun (For the sake of my illustration, the people in Alaska don't count). There is always good in every time of your life, there is always joy! So, I am attempting to learn to be content with where God has me, even if I know with every ounce of me that it's not where I want to be. He will open the door when it is *His* time and so I'll just have to be patient and contentedly wait for the season to change.

Some Gingers Really Do Have Souls

Oh, my sweet redheaded girl. Now, my best friend here in Florida is a ginger (although she too is far from the stereotypical ginger) nonetheless before meeting Hayley I already had my preconceived notions. But oh, how she put those to rest all too fast. Hayley is the *definition* of a passionate person; with all the temper I would expect, yet more love than I could have hoped for. Before camp I started a facebook message with all the girls, but her and I hit it off the best. I knew for sure we would be friends, yet, when I got to camp we didn't get as close as fast as I thought we would. Midway through the first week of camp, we ended up having a heart-to-heart in the girls bathroom of the gym until sometime way past lights out (Thomas I know you're reading this, sorry we didn't follow lights out that 1 time!) and come to find out, we both thought that the other didn't like us. This couldn't have been more untrue. We were so eager for the other to like us that we feared the worst. After that night, we were inseparable. Hayley is one of those people that there are so many layers to her, so many *sides* that every day you learn something new about her and it is so fun. She has the greatest laugh in the world... one of those laughs that once you hear it you become unsure as to whether you may or may not pee your pants because you laugh so hard. Hayley has this way of always understanding how I feel. Even if she can't relate, she *understands* and I can tell her anything. I've never understood what it meant to have a friend that "laughs when you laugh and cries when you cry" I got the laugh part, but I never understood why someone would cry with me, simply because they know how I feel. That late night in the girls bathroom, Hayley cried with me. She shared in how I was feeling, and she has ever since. She's my cabin neighbor and my snuggle buddy and whether she goes to Honduras or Kenya with our dear friend Justin Beiber, I know she will always be there for me. <3

A Little Blond Weirdo With A Fish Named David

Ok, so as promised I'm continuing to write about people and experiences from this summer. Today I'm going to write about a very dear friend of mine. Her name is Miranda. Now, the first thing you have to know about Miranda is that she's a very......unique person. The first day of camp she was the last person to show up. I had seen her on facebook but I wasn't really sure what to expect. Well, in walks this little bleach blonde girl, betta fish in hand referring to him simply as "david" and talking about how her and "david" took a detour on the way up to Nakalulla Falls to do some sight-seeing. Miranda, I know you're reading this and I love you dearly but my first thought was "Well..this may or may not be a really long summer". However, despite my hasty preconceptions we all learned to know and love Miranda immensely. She has a personality that just draws you to be her friend. Her hilarious and carefree attitude make everyone laugh, along with her made up exclamations like "What the butts!". She's the only person in the world I know that listens to some random techno band called hard styles and despite the fact that it sounds like a computerized clanging of pots and pans she *loves it*. My favorite thing about Miranda is that despite everything she's been through she *delights* in life. She will never fail to admit her shortcomings but she doesn't let them control her. She lives and she loves and she laughs and without even trying makes everyone around her enjoy her presence. She loves God. Every morning we would have devotions and some mornings she would just run off barefoot into the field and write and pray literally oblivious to the world around her because at that moment nothing matters to her more than the time she is spending with the Lord. I strive to have that kind of faith. Miranda became one of my closest friends this summer. She's the kind of person I always wished I could be, but in becoming close with her this summer I realized something. Despite how put together she comes across, she's not perfect and she doesn't try to be. That's what makes me respect her, that's what makes me love her as a true friend and sister. Miranda: you changed my life this summer in more ways than one. There were some days and some moments where I really have no idea what I would have done if you weren't there. I know right now you're off frolicking through panama city with "dark and handsome" (as you like to call him) and his family, but when you read this know that you will forever have a special place in my heart as one of my truest friends. For as much as I give you a hard time about going to Alaska, I'm proud of you for following your heart. I know I'll see you soon <3

Awkward Moments and Life Changes

Ok, so here's the skinny: I just got back from Ponderosa Bible Camp. I've been there the past 6 weeks as most of you know, and it was an experience that changed my life in more ways than I can count. God used me in ways I never thought possible and brought so many amazing people into my life. So, I'm going to take the next few blogs to write about my experiences and the people I now call my best friends. I'll start off today with the funniest story of the summer: The Naked Story. Ok, so pretty much anyone that knows me knows that I'd pretty much always rather be naked. Just sayin. Well, I was in a cabin in the gym so I was allotted the boys bathroom. It was Sunday morning and I decided to take a shower. My friend Hayley was the only other person in the gym, so when I got out I didn't get dressed! The door was shut and no one was around; why would I need to? So, I started blow-drying my hair and singing "Hosanna" by brooke fraser at the TOP of my lungs. Well, much to my surprise all of the sudden this old guy comes prancing in! He came around the corner and saw me and said "AH!" and ran out. I was pretty much frozen. I mean, It's not like I had anything to cover myself with. I was naked as the day I was born, no shelter in sight. Well, I was mortified to say the least. So, I called my boss crying explaining to him what happened. Come to find out, that "old guy" was my boss's boss's boss. Oh yea. Needless to say, his stay over the next few days was ridiculously awkward. Ok, now here comes the real point: That is how we are with God. He sees us, everywhere we go, everything we do. We may think no one's around and so we do things that we'd be really embarrassed to be seen doing in front of people, let alone our creator. But he sees and he knows! So (unlike in my story) what's the point in trying to hide from the Lord? There isn't a point. He loves us and wants a relationship with us, so why try to hide? He sees you whether you like it or not, so you can bask in his love and confess to him when you mess up as he designed. Or, you can run and hide and be content to sing naked in the bathroom thinking that's the best it gets when the truth is, you can only dance around in your mistakes so long before God will call you out and make you realize that just like adam and eve we can't hide our "nakedness" of sin. So, the moral of the story is: get dressed when you get out of the shower, and don't try to hide your mistakes from God. Enjoy the freedom to be forgiven and your life will change.

Fireflies

God's creation has always amazed me. As you all know, I'm spending my summer in Mentone, Al and this area possess's something Florida doesn't: fireflies. They are something I've always loved. I think fireflies are the weirdest creatures, the way their butts light up. I mean, come on, Who else could think of that but an all powerful creator? They are the most beautiful bugs (and this is coming from the girl that hates bugs). This summer God has been working in my heart in so many ways. I've become convicted of a lot of things I never thought about before and I've realized how much more my life needs to change than it already has. The fireflies remind me of my savior. A beautiful light in the dark.

Sunshine, Adventures, and Everything In-between

As most of you know (and by most of you I mean all 5 of you that follow my blog) I'm at Ponderosa Bible Camp this summer as a counselor. I was going to write a blog about my past experiences here as a little girl and how that ties into now, but my older sister (who also has  blog) totally stole my thunder and beat me to it ( love you Caitlin). So I guess I'll just talk about my first few days here and what I hope to get from the rest of the summer. The first day I got here I flew in with my sweet friend Melinda and we stayed in my home town of Birmingham for 2 days. I was excited to say the least, but a little nervous to see some people I hadn't talked to in a while. It was a beautiful two days that I got to spend with some very very dear friends. On the 3rd day I met up with one of the other counselors and we immediately clicked. By the end of the day, all four of us girl counselors had bonded and it already felt like we'd known each other our whole lives. I can't even begin to explain how much love there is in a room when all of us are together. I have *never* in my whole life experienced such a feeling of love and respect and joy and peace on a daily basis. I am  just amazed at how it feels every morning to wake up and be here. Training starts this week and all the other staff comes in  tomorrow. I know that this summer will be difficult at times but I know that God knows exactly what he's doing. Riding in the car on the way to 6 Flags two days ago Mr. Jeff asked me what I was hoping to get out of this summer. To be honest, I told him I really want to know why I'm here. It became very clear that this is where God wanted me to be this summer, but I'm not sure why. I can't wait to see what he has in store for me! Thank you to all of you that are praying and supporting me while I'm here, I love you all.

The Oddball

Confession Time: I'm the world's biggest dork. Those of you that know me well are sitting at your computers nodding your head and giggling. For those of you that don't believe me, lets flash back a few years to 6th grade. I was home schooled 1-5th; that's not a *bad* thing mind you, not at all, but it greatly inhibited my social skills. I walk in to my very first day of public school wearing this: Bright orange and red pedal pusher pants (hellloooooo 90's) a bright orange shirt with a GIANT picture of red sparkly sunglasses not-so-strategically placed *directly* across my chest, tennis shoes (which is bad enough in b/c in Florida everyone only wears flip flops) WITH socks and a blue back pack that must have stuck a foot out from my back. If that wasn't bad enough, I had a large ( and dearly beloved) sparkly blue lunch-box and an insulated water bottle which I tied to the strings that hung down either side of my backpack. Oh yea, I was the picture of cool.... and by that I mean I was the biggest walking target from the "boonies" that ever lived. Thankfully, my fashion sense has improved but I'm still that same girl on the inside. I used to get picked on sooo much when I was younger, my hair was fluffy, I couldn't dress to save my life, and I always had my nose in a book. So, I learned to change my ways so that people would think I was "cool". Yes yes I realize that was stupid, but you're positively lying if you say you would have done otherwise so don't even try me. I learned how to talk, dress, and act so that I would have some semblance of fitting in. Until recently I never realized that I guard myself when I talk to people. When I text some one that I don't know as well I carefully phrase each sentence so that I don't sound weird or dorky. How dumb is that? I actually can't believe I'm admitting that, but it's true! I've realized lately that doing that makes absolutely zero sense. If I can't just speak how I normally speak, and act how I always do, even if that person likes me or enjoys me, they don't like me for who I am. They like me for who I *pretend* to be. To be perfectly honest, it's tiring and annoying and overall frustrating to pretend that you're something you're not all the time and sooner or later no one will be fooled. Usually I take the last part of my blog to give some tidbit of self-discovered wisdom, or a quote blah blah blah but to tell you the truth I'm not gonna do that this time. Why? Because I still don't quite have this figured out! I'm just now starting to accept my oddball status and realize that I like myself way better this way. It kind of goes along with my "Hot pink and sparkles" entry that I wrote a few days ago. That was my discovery of how much I enjoy being different. I'm going to be a camp counselor this summer. I will be working with 3 other girl counselors and 4 guys and to be honest I'm scared out of my mind. My little dorky inner self is still saying "What if I'm too weird, what if they don't like me, what if (heaven forbid) even my campers think I'm weird. OH NO!" The theme for camp this summer is "A Battle to Fight" and that's exactly what I'm doing right now. That's not just my inner dorky self talking, that is the evil one trying to lure me over and change my mind and cripple my heart. 1 Peter 5:8 says "Be self controlled and alert. Your enemy, the devil, prowls around like a roaring lion searching for someone to devour". Well guess what? I don't feel like being a mid-meal snack today! So, I'm gonna sing the song that Dory sings in Finding Nemo to the fish that tries to eat them "No eating here tonight, No eating here tonight, No no no eating here tonight, you're onnn aaaa diiiietttt". I will bask in my oddball self knowing that God made me that way. Insecure or not, I will fight my battles and I will win because the one that is more powerful than any other is on my side, whether I'm a dork or not. 

10 Little Fingers and 10 Tiny Toes

When I was in 8th grade, my family adopted my little brother Shaun. I will never forget the day they brought him home. They got out of the car and my mom handed this little baby to me and he looked up at me, right in the eye, and smiled. I fell in love. My little brother has changed my life in so many ways. He's made me believe what my mom always told me; little kids are tough to handle! He's taught me that anything can be fun, you just have to make it that way. He's taught me so many things, but most importantly he's taught me something that seems so simple, but in truth it's so difficult to do. To Love. Any of you who have a small child, or sibling you know what I'm talking about. The purity of heart in a child is simply astounding. Their honesty is mind blowing, they act how they feel and they love so freely it's almost confusing. Shaun always puts numbers to the amount of his love. He will say "I love you 1000" or 100 or whatever. On some days, (if you're being really cool and worthy of some extra love) you'll get a huge number like 92573401 kajibillion. He never stops to remember the times I've let him down when he tells me he loves me. He never reminds me of all the things I should be doing for him that I don't when he runs up and gives me hugs. He never hesitates to tell me that he loves me 100 or a million, because to him it doesn't matter. All that matters is that I'm his sister and he loves me. I'm pretty sure I've never been more touched than when he had alphabet week at school and he brought in a picture of us and talked about the letter "L" for his best friend and big sister Lindsay. Never mind the fact I was 5 hours away at college, never mind the fact that I don't call enough or visit as much as I should. He only remembers the 5 minute chats or the piece of gum I give him (usually just to keep him quiet for a few minutes). He's always willing to play a game or give a hug. The love of a child reminds me so much of the unfailing love of my savior. I *know* that God uses Shaun to remind me of him and his love for me. I remember recently when my boyfriend and I broke up, I was crying one day when I was visiting home and Shaun just came and sat in my lap and said "It's ok Z, you still my best friend". I didn't ask him to do that, but he did because he knew I needed to be reminded that I'm loved. Over and over Shaun has touched my life and my heart. I was blessed the day he was born and God decided that his mother who couldn't care for him would love him enough to give him away and that my family would be hugely blessed to have him become one of our own. The little things he does just make me giggle, like how he calls Publix "Pugwix" or his little glasses, or when he dances around or sings to his kids bop cd. Some days I wish he would never grow up. But the truth is, it doesn't matter how old he gets I can never ever replace the spot in my heart that was walked on by ten tiny toes and imprinted by 10 little fingers of the little brother that changed my life.

Hot Pink and Sparkles

Ok, so anyone that knows me (even just a little bit) probably knows that I love to paint nails. I'm not sure where it started or how it started, but somewhere along the line a bottle of liquid pink and sparkles got me hooked. If I were to give you the obvious reasons why I love to paint nails it would sound silly: they're pretty, you can use your favorite colors, etc. Sounds like a bad essay written by a 3rd grade girl with a social interaction problem. But, to be honest with you, there's things about painting nails that no one thinks about. I love it because it's a way to express yourself. More often than not, you'll see me unapologetically sporting hot pink, bright orange, or acid green nails. I love it that way. I'm loud, excited, and crazy and I like my fingers to represent that. The thing about expressing your personality through nail color is that when it starts to chip away, all you have to do it bust out the acetone and do them again. Your actual personality and creativity is not so easily healed. If someone or something keeps wearing and wearing on your spirit and chipping  away at your heart, eventually the hot pink you once loved will be a dull grey, much harder to replace. I used to feel that way, like the sparkles in my personality had lost their luster. I felt like no matter how hard I tried, everyone else in the world was painting their personality boring colors like "nude" and "muted rose petal #55". ew ew ew. I tried the whole pasty pink and pantyhose tan personalities, but they just didn't fit. But, I hid my sparkles because I didn't want to be strange and immature. Here's what I'm beginning to realize: it doesn't matter what I do, or how old I get, that cheetah print, neon pink, and glitter will always be in my heart. No matter how old I get or where I go, that's who I am. *So what* if no one else does that? I.don't.need.them.too. You know why? Because the right people will accept me, princess complex and all. I'll keep my tu-tu thank you very much. So what if I sneeze glitter and still wish I could be a Disney Princess? Take back your " muted rose petal #55" nail polish, I don't want it! My nails will forever be an example of how I feel in my heart and that's the way I know it should be.

Looking At the Sky

For as long as I can remember, one of my favorite things to do is lay in the grass and look up at the sky. Sunny, cloudy, night, or day. I don't really care. I just love the sky; it fascinates me more than the ocean. This giant expanse that can shift and change every day, giving way to light or darkness. Sometimes rain, sometimes sun. Looking at the sky makes me feel calm. I guess I love the Sky because it reminds me of mercy. The sky reminds me of mercy and grace and the unfathomable love the Christ has for me. I've been struggling releasing my control of some things lately and a chat I had with a very dear friend of mine as I laid in the grass made me realize this. My friend has been having a hard time relinquishing control and I wasn't sure what to tell her.. then as I thought and the words flowed, I realized that everything I was saying to her was something I needed to say to myself. I told her " Remember, that when you refuse to give up control, you're telling God he doesn't know what he's doing. You're telling him you think you know better and you don't trust him. As difficult as it is, we must truly *live* what we believe. If you believe who you say God is, you will relinquish your control and learn to trust him. Stop trying to save yourself , that was already taken care of on the cross and that is a gift much too precious to ignore." When I went back and read those words, I realized that in helping her, I was helping myself. I needed so badly to be reminded that God is big enough, he is strong enough and he holds my future in his hands. No amount of pushing, shoving, kicking, screaming, or fighting will change the fact that HE is the one in control of my life. Rather than resisting that, I am attempting to realize it is something to embrace. One of my most favorite verses is  Matthew 10:29-31 "Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care.^[b] 30 And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. ³¹ So don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows" Why am I afraid to relinquish my control? I am worth *more* than many sparrows to a God full of mercy and grace. So, when I am afraid to relinquish control, I will look up to the sky and be reminded of his deep love for me. 

A One Track Mind Like Mine

I feel like all my good thoughts are fueled by my best friend. Not by any particular reason other than the fact that he makes me think about the things I won't admit if anyone else were to call me out. He's the only person smart enough to call me out and tell me what's going on. I realized today (brace yourselves, this is one of the few times I will say this) that I have been utterly and completely wrong. I've been going about my business, trying to chase after God and working hard in school and hanging out with friends all the while spending time being jealous and angry and blaming it on faulty reasoning. Sometimes in life, there are things we can't do anything about, but what I realized today is that just because we can't do anything about certain things doesn't give us the right to take out those frustrations on the people we love the most. I almost lost my best friend today. Why? Because I have spent *so much time* taking out frustrations and anger and issues on him because subconsciously I guess I've always told myself that he loves me enough that it doesn't matter what I say or how I act he will always be there. Wrong. I learned today that you can only push people away for so long before they finally leave. Today, when push came to shove (see what I did there?) I finally admitted for once in my life that I've been wrong. I admitted this not just because I wanted to fix things or I wanted it to go away, but because I truly sucked it up and realized that fact that I have been an utterly selfish woman. I spend so much time saying to myself "look what I do for others" and yet I neglect the person that matters more to me than anyone else. And yet, despite every thing he's done for me I blamed him for everything that has gone wrong in the past few months. The truth of the matter is, I think when things go wrong, I always need someone to blame. I'm so afraid to take responsibility for hurting someone because I automatically jump to "I'm worthless and disgusting. Who could love me anyway?" I'm so afraid to admit that some one may care about me mess and all that I just get angry and push and push and push until they finally won't take anymore. Today I learned that I *cannot* do that ever again. A very dear friend of mine has been going through a tough time lately and I keep telling him to have peace and forgiveness. I have shared with him Ephesians 4:26 "Do not let the sun go down on your anger, for you will give the devil a foothold" and yet all along the sun has been rising and setting on my anger for far too long all because I convinced myself my anger was gone when really I had just transferred it to someone else.  I put this anger on him because It gave me a reason to hold on to him, to tell myself "there's no way he could leave me if he's hurt me. He would never leave" and yet, I've been hurting him. Yup, I'm not the victim here. Shocking. My eyes have been opened today to the fact that no matter what has happened in my life, or what others have done or how they have treated me does not mean that everyone is that way. Just because I've been hurt doesn't mean I'm the only one. In the process of me being angry over being hurt by another, I deeply hurt the person I care the most about. I guess my point in all this is to say, don't let the sun go down on your anger with the ones you love. If something is hurting you, for goodness sake, figure out what it is that's really hurting you and get to the real issue. Don't hide behind something else. If you are angry because you're jealous, be honest about it. If you're angry because someone has hurt you, be honest about it. If you're going to keep things to yourself, then fine. But don't do what I did and tell myself I will keep quiet, all the while letting my frustrations and feelings speak for me. Today I found my voice again. But, for once in my life, I didn't find my voice through speaking. I found it through being told the truth; the truth that I have been selfish, and mean, and angry. I realized today that speaking up for yourself doesn't have to mean blaming your hurts on someone else. Sometimes, it means admitting to yourself the real issue and apologizing to the person you love. People always says you never know what you've got until it's gone. I don't ever want to know what it feels like to lose my best friend. Coming as close as I did today was enough to make me realize, that it doesn't matter how I feel, my selfish pride is not worth losing the only person who has always been there. My pride is not an excuse for bad behavior, and my *pride* of falsely righteous anger came crashing down when I finally admitted to myself that I hurt someone. I think my Dad may have a coronary if he reads this because he's spent 19 years trying to get all this through my head. I guess it never registered coming from him because you don't get to choose your family. They are what you've got and you love them and stand by them no matter what so I never had to figure this out until now. I never had to figure this out until I was truly faced with the realization that if my best friend had left me today it would be no one's fault but my own and that scared me to death. I will never let my pride get in the way of my ability to love ever again. Anger is not worth the loss it can cause, especially when it's anger over something you can't change. I guess it just took someone with a one track mind like mine to make me see it. (Just for fun, here's the song that inspired that last line http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3JV74i4yvcA.) Anyways, make today count, don't let your anger get in the way of your life and don't let it make you lose what's most important. Nothing is worth that, no matter how important you think the reason you're angry is. Nothing nothing nothing is worth looking back and thinking "If I hadn't been angry, that never would have happened". So, tell the truth to the people you love and live your life, just don't live it blaming other people. You'll feel a heck of a lot more free if you realize your mistakes and accept that there are people who won't leave you just because you mess up.

Some Things Are Better Left Unsaid

I know I need to write. Writing makes me feel good; it helps me clear my head. In the past few weeks I must have sat down to write 10 times and each time I get going, I start writing without really thinking, just letting the things on my mind out on paper. But, every time I chicken out and erase it. I convince myself that what I have to say isn't important or it's too weird or believe it or not, too honest. Sometimes I wonder if I really should have said some of the things I've said on here. Sometimes people see a little *too much* of themselves in what you write and then they think you're talking about them. Sometimes, you really are talking about someone and then later on you wonder if the things you said were really worth saying. The consequences of words are so SO huge. I don't want to regret what I write. Ever. But sometimes, I regret how it makes me feel. I know everyone will know what I'm talking about when I say sometimes it feels like it's better to keep certain thoughts and feelings under lock and key. Sometimes, you finally admit the things you've been scared to death to say because you convince yourself the consequences can't be any worse than the way it makes you feel when you keep it to yourself. The truth is though, that it really can be harder when the truth is in the open, because when you share your truest thoughts and feelings you share your heart whether you want to or not. I think there's something to be said for total honesty (clearly by my blog you can tell I'm a firm believer in  "honesty is the best policy") but there is such a thing as saying too much. That's something I've had to figure out the hard way. There comes a point where you have to decide whether what you feel is so important that you *have to* say it no matter what the consequences. Be careful what you classify with that kind of importance. Once the truth is out there, it doesn't mean your life will change. Being honest about something doesn't mean you'll be happy or you'll get what you want. Maybe it will, but there's never a guarantee. You'll always run that risk of having everything out in the open and then realizing that absolutely nothing is going to change. It doesn't have to be a bad thing, it's just something you have to be prepared for. It's kind of like when you're little and you get caught eating candy before dinner. Of course your mom already knows you did it (mom always knows *everything*, right? It's creepy)  but for some reason parents always ask if you did it or not. So, you weigh the options in your head (either way that candy was delicious, right?) but you figure if you tell the truth then maybe you won't get in trouble. More often than not, you still get spanked and run away rubbing your backside, crying. Darn it, the truth stings a lot more than you thought it would! That stolen candy doesn't taste so delicious when you have to pay the price. A moment of sweetness for an hour of pain. It doesn't seem worth it. Although, contrary to what I've been saying this entire time, there is also something to be said for the relief that comes from honesty. You don't have to bear the burden anymore. Once everything is out in the open, that weight is lifted. I guess though, when the situation isn't resolved it kind of feels like a giant rock hanging in the air that you're just waiting to come crashing down. You don't directly feel it anymore, but you know it isn't over. I feel that way right now. I feel...unresolved about some things in my life right now. Some chapters of my life have recently been closed, but I'm ok with that. Sometimes there are things that you need to be done with. I guess it's just hard to try and convince yourself you're done with something that you know isn't over. Maybe, things are different for now, but some day a conclusion will come in one direction or the other. I've been told in the past i'm a "100%" kind of person. Whatever I feel I feel to the extreme, whether it's love, hate, excitement, sadness, passion, or pain I can't help but be intense about the things I feel. Sometimes I feel, rather I *know*, that this drives people away from me. I'm "too much too often" but I would rather be intense than feel nothing at all. The problem with honesty as it goes along with my personality is that once I say the truth, it doesn't relieve anything. Sure, maybe I won't feel isolated, but that intensity is still there. That's who I am and that's something that maybe I could change, but I'm not willing to. It's something I like about myself. I guess I just need to figure out how to be honest and let go of things at the same time. I know God has a plan for my life, but I'm so darn impatient that I hate waiting for the plan to be revealed. I feel sometimes (even thought I know it won't work) that if I just bargain with him and say "ok God, I'll be honest about ________ if you'll just show me where my life is headed right now". I'm pretty sure he giggles at that. I've got an internal debate going on right over whether or not I should keep being honest about the way I feel about things anymore. Honesty, doesn't, won't, and never will get rid of any kind of longing so take it from me who learned it the hard way: Make sure that you're ready for whatever happens. Don't blindly run around yelling the honest truth from the mountain tops. Just be sure that later on you won't look back and think: Some things really are better left unsaid.

There's No Such Thing As Prince Charming

I've been impatient since the day I was born. Literally. Apparently when I was born, labor was quite....speedy. I couldn't get out fast enough! I feel like I've spent most of my life that way. I have patience for nothing. Along with the rest of my generation I've grown up in the age of instant gratification. Almost anything and everything is accessible at the click of a button; except a love life. Ha! That would be interesting; being able to shop for Mr. Right? Weird. All growing up, the easy answer for parents and adults when heartbreak and loneliness would come around was, "You're so young; you've got plenty of time". Then, as you get a little older (like high school) they all say "Don't worry, you'll go to college and meet someone". Well here I am in college watching girl after girl that I know meet that someone, get engaged to that someone, get married to that someone. Stealing my dream life and making me wonder what's wrong with me that I'm still single. Again, here I am in college, still single, still wondering where on earth my Mr. Right is. I've had glimpses and tastes of maybe possibly knowing what that feeling is like, but usually (as far as I've experienced: *always*) That knight in shining armor turns out to be a jerk in tin foil. Ew. I sit and talk with my girlfriends about boys, watching "Say Yes to the Dress" yet thinking all the while the only thing missing is actually finding someone. I'm learning to realize the problem with that statement "finding someone". Like it's some creepy treasure hunt where If I look long enough and hard enough somehow Flynn Rider from Tangled will be waiting on the other side of the rainbow; tall, dark, and handsome, just waiting to sweep me off my feet and make me a princess. Ooops. My logic is a bit faulty. I'm sure you can spot the problem with that belief. "Flynn Rider"? He's a animated Disney Character. There is no such thing as a Prince Charming waiting to ride off into the sunset with me. But, unlike the firm belief of Taylor Swift, that doesn't mean I won't be ok. It doesn't mean that I'm some weak and broken woman that always wants what she can't have, screaming to the tune of "You Belong With Me" in the shower. This doesn't mean that just because Prince Charming is a fairy tale I'll be single forever. It means realizing that the man out there for me isn't gonna be perfect so I don't have to be perfect either. That should be a relief! *Whew* Thank goodness I don't have to pretend anymore that I roll out of bed with straightened hair, a made up face, Coach purse in arm. This should be a relief because the man that will love me will love me best in jeans, a t-shirt and a ponytail. Sooooo cliche yea yea yea I know. But it's true. I've spent a long time spinning in confusing circles back and forth between ignoring the cliche and dating jerks and thinking that life really *is* a Disney movie and I just have to sing "Someday My Prince Will Come" and he'll magically appear. I wish life was that simple. Really though, if life *was* that simple, we would never learn anything.  We would never appreciate Love in it's purest and simplest form because we would have no idea what kind of a struggle it takes to get there. I've spent my life like Rapunzel, locked up in my tower in the belief the only thing out there is "ruffians, thugs and men with pointy teeth!" waiting for a chance to run, dance, and be free while battling between life as an idealist and life as a cynic. The funny thing about Rapunzel though, is that when she left her tower she found beauty in the world. She found love. She wasn't looking for it; she didn't spend her life pining away waiting for Prince Charming. But, when she finally made the choice to let go of *wondering* about life and being impatient and she actually chose to live  she stumbled upon the Love she didn't even know she needed. Long story short, I'm trying to be less impatient. I'm trying to remember that as much as I feel like my life is a Taylor Swift song, that's because (just like the singer herself) I *make* my life like that. I sit singing, wishing, and dreaming about something that won't happen just because I want it to. It will happen in it's own time and I've just got to live and love and somehow my own kind of Prince will find his way to me.

Lean On Me

I moved to Alabama when I was 6. I'm pretty sure I loved it from the moment we got there. We lived in a yellow house with a huge front yard and a big stretch of woods in the back. That house will always be my picture of home. My older sister and I built this little village in the woods and called it "Morrisburg" and we spent hours and hours digging in the dirt and growing grass and building little huts. I don't remember how many churches we tried when we got to Alabama. The only church I will ever remember is Shades Mountain Bible church. They had the coolest playground I'd ever seen as a 6 year old from a podunk air force base in the middle of Oklahoma. That playground is where I  met a pair of lifelong friends. Luke and Melinda. I met Melinda first and I feel like inseparable is the only way to describe it. We did *everything* together. I remember one day after church there was a church lunch and Melinda was sitting with me and my family and her brother came up to me and told me I was pretty. I look back on it now and giggle because we were in 2nd grade, but that was that. He was the first boy that ever told me I was pretty and in my little 8 year old mind i guess that made me decide he was ok with me. The little glass frog he gave me for valentines day that year still sits on my desk today in college. We moved away the summer before I turned 12. Even though I was so young, to this day I will still say I have never been more heartbroken. I knew I left my heart behind when we moved away. Sooner than later I fell mostly out of contact with my old friends. Then, the summer before 10th grade we went back for a reunion of the church I had grown up in that had since fell apart. I picked right back up with Melinda but didn't see Luke until the second day we were there. It was weird. Seeing him again. I guess it's a whole lot different when you're almost 16 and think "wow he's cute" then when you're 6 and don't even know what that means. However, I didn't think anything of it. At that point I had a facebook and kept in close contact with Melinda after that. I didn't talk to Luke again until my senior year in high school. We had both just gone through break-ups and I guess that brought us closer. Mid-march he asked me to go to Prom with him in Alabama. I was *way* more thrilled than I was willing to admit. Long story short, that weekend of Prom in Alabama was without a doubt the best weekend of my life. Silly and cliche right? The quarterback of the football team/ prom king could go to prom with *anyone* he wanted  and somehow he chooses the dorky girl he's known since 2nd grade. Lame. I would have never admit to myself at the time that I felt anything other than my heart was at home in the state I knew and loved. Fall of my freshman year in college I started dating an ex-marine and subsequently (and regretfully) fell in love. Luke came down to visit me that fall and things were awkward between us. Why? It would take me another year, a semester and a half of college, and a break-up with the first guy I ever truly fell in love with to realize that my heart was at home in Alabama for more reasons than one. My heart was at home because I had spent years forming a close relationship with the most wonderful family I've ever known besides my own. My heart was at home because I knew that Melinda would stand by me as a best friend my whole life. My heart was at home because I finally realized that the boy that told me I was pretty in 2nd grade was the boy that would always always always be there for me. I was unfair to him over and over without even realizing it, but the minute someone broke my heart, Luke was there. I will never forget sitting on the beach with him, crying, and he said "lean on my shoulder" and for once in my life I didn't fight him. That kind of love, is a love that comes only from Christ. The kind of love I had been dying to feel. The only verse that describes this is John 15:13 " Greater love has no one than this, that he would lay down his life for his friends". That is what Luke did for me. Dropped everything and came to pick up the pieces of my mess when my heart was broken. That is what Christ does for me every day, he overlooks my brokenness and says "Lean on my shoulder". I will continue to rejoice and thank him every day for sending me a home away from home with a person who will *always* have my heart.

Grown-Up

Here I am at my computer, with absolutely *nothing* to say today. I wish I had something witty to say like all the rest of my entries, but today I just don't. I have done absolutely nothing of consequence so far this week. I've just been plodding along in my lame little life just like everyone else. I'm really just ready for nursing school. I'm ready to just grow up and move on. I feel like I've been saying that my whole life. "I want to grow up". What does that even mean? How old do you have to be to be a grown up anyway?  I remember when I was little I used to sit in my mom's bathroom and watch her do her make-up and wish that I could be a "grown-up". The truth is though, I've gone through every stage so far, just like everyone else. And yet, the older I get I feel farther and farther away from that grown-up that I always pictured myself being when I was a little girl. I've spent so much time thinking "ok, I'll just make it through this part of my life and then I'll get to ____and that will make me happy". But it doesn't. Here's the dirty secret no one wants to tell you; at no point in life will you ever feel perfect. There will always be something you're aiming towards. Something you've yet to do. I'm learning that happiness is about finding the little blessings every day. There's this quote in Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants from a little girl named Bailey who has Luekemia. Before she dies she makes a video on her friend Tibby's camera while she's not there. A week prior she passed out in the grocery store where Tibby works and that's how they met. At the time Tibby was doing a documentary on "lame existence". In Bailey walks in "the pants" that are way too big for her and she sits on the stool and says one of the wisest things I've ever heard: "Hey, it's me, Bailey. You don't have to use this in your movie or anything, although now that I think of it, fainting in Wallman's does kind of qualify me as a loser. But then again, wearing a price sticker on your forehead probably makes you one, too. Ya know, I don't know, Tibby, maybe the truth is there's a little bit of loser in all of us, ya know? Being happy isn't having everything in your life be perfect. Maybe it's about stringing together all the little things like wearing these pants or getting to a new level of Dragon's Lair - making those count for more than the bad stuff. Maybe we just get through it... and that's all we can ask for" For a 12 year old I feel like that's pretty deep stuff. I think she's got a point. Going through life wishing to be "grown-up" will never make me content because I'll always be waiting for some magic moment that's gonna somehow magically turn me into a thriving soccer mom and make me happy. So, ala Bailey I'm learning to string together the little things and enjoy life. Day to day. Enjoying the storm and the sun because some of the most beautiful things need that storm to survive. A flower can't grow without rain and neither will I grow without experiencing all of life with arms wide open. I guess I'm learning to stop wishing to "grow-up". Life will happen as it will and God will guide my path. So instead of trudging down the road with my head down headed to a foggy ideal land of being older I will dance down the way of life headlong and singing while the storm is raging on. After all; who doesn't love to play in the rain?

Fish Killer

So I know by the title that PETA personnel all over the blogging world are already up in arms. Relax. This is just a story of how a little insecurity went a long way. So when I was little we had a fall festival at our church; I won a fish. Now as a little kid I.was.thrilled. Now, I'm old enough to know that goldfish are exceedingly lame, however at the time it was definitely the coolest thing ever. Eventually, as all things do, it died. I was heartbroken. Aside from the fact that I'm already a total drama queen, I had a *meltdown* I mean sobbing and the whole bit. Of course, we gave him a nice, tearful, sea burial (Aka we flushed him down the toilet) and away he went. Clearly, the death of my first goldfish was not my fault, sadly this is not the end of the story. Apparently, I really had a thing for goldfish as I grew up. Except I didn't get the lame little minnow sized ones after that; I got the big ones with those cool bubble eyes and chipmunk cheeks. You know. If you don't, look it up, it's worth the laugh. Anyways, so I slowly built up a little goldfish family in my little tank. Those fish were tough, when we moved they swam around in my dad's little home depot bucket in the back of our mini van all the way from Alabama to Florida. Then, not long after we moved, I came into my room one night to find my favorite black goldfish (ironic that he's still a goldfish even though he's black. Does that make me a goldfish racist if I say that?) dead. Belly up in my little tank. It's more frightening when you're older; seeing something die. I figured he had lived a long and full life and it was just time to go. Skip to the next day: I come home from school-Bubbleface keeled over. Bye bye fishie numero dos.  At this point I was a little distraught; why were all my fish dying? So we got a little tupperware and put some nasty fish water in it and took it to PetSmart. Yep, that name has a double meaning (Pet's Mart and Pet Smart. Aha!  Guess who it took until their senior year in high school to figure that one out?) Anyway, we went back to the girl working with the fish and she tested the water. Here comes the heartbreak: the chemical levels in the water were so high it was killing my fish. They were all going to die. SMACK! It hit me in the face. How guilty did I feel? All my fish were dying and it was my fault because I was too lazy to clean the tank. We went straight home and cleaned the tank but it was too late. The little fish had all been contaminated and they died within the week.
   Flash forward 7 years. I'm now a freshman in college. Last semester I decided I wanted a pet so I went to the store and got a Beta fish. I felt like a new parent; so excited but scared out of my mind. So help me, this fish will survive whether it wants to or not. So, I resolved to be the best fish owner in the world. I changed it's water every other day, never forgot to feed it, and talked to him a little just in case he got lonely (and because I like to talk to my pets. Don't laugh, I know you do it too). Surprise! A month later he died. His name was Dude, may he rest in peace. I was heartbroken. The people at the pet store had told me Beta's were impossible to kill! I'm cursed. I know it. That curse was confirmed when I killed Dude's successor: Mr. (I'm quite a creative pet namer aren't I?)  Finally, angry I went back to the pet store and told them something must be wrong with their fish. I was doing everything right! Or not. Turns out, when I talked to the expert I was doing *too* much. In my earnest attempt to keep these fish alive I had actually smothered them.That is when I earned a new nickname from all my friends: Fish Killer. Boy, didn't that just rub salt in my wound. Here I am, already feeling like the worst fish owner in the world and all my friends are calling me fish killer. Silly as it sounds, it was like a giant billboard pointing out a lifetime of inadequacies in pet ownership.  All that story to say that this reminds me so much of my life. I'm a perfectionist. So, when I make a mistake, I always vow to myself that I will never do that again. I tell myself that I will be perfect next time. The funny thing is; that's impossible. I'm a human. I.will.always.fail. I will always be inadequate. The reason why is because I can't do it on my own. With all those fish I was trying so hard to take care of them without the help of anyone else. Just like in life, I try so hard to be perfect, to do everything right, without letting my God help me. Clearly, I will fail every time without his help. The difference is, God is way bigger than "Pet Supermarket". Lucky for me, he has a lot more grace too. I guess the point of all this is to say: Don't let your insecurities convince you you have to be perfect. Just because you messed up your fish died, doesn't make you branded a "fish killer" for eternity. That brand of imperfection has already been wiped away. Matthew 19:26 says "When the disciples heard this they were greatly astonished, saying 'who then can be saved!' Jesus looked at them and said ' With man this is impossible, but with God, all things are possible". Aha! The dirty truth: without God I will always be a fish killer, *But*, with him I'll have a lot more luck keeping them alive.

Bakers Chocolate Doesn't Taste Like Hershey's

Alright, let's be honest: I'm woman, I.love.chocolate. Pure and simple. Now tell me, have you ever tasted bakers chocolate? For your sake I hope not, it tastes like dirt. Straight up dirt. I'll never forget, I did a presentation in Psychology my Senior year of high school to teach about one of the tastes that humans experience: Bitterness. We had to bring in a food as an example so i decided to be funny and bring in bakers chocolate. I broke it up in to different sized pieces, some small, some HUGE. I let each person choose their own piece. It was hilarious to see the look in the eyes of people as they picked the largest piece on the plate thinking they were about to have a delicious snack. In my head I laughed at them, knowing they were in for it when they tasted it. After each person received a piece, i told them all to eat. The reactions were priceless. Sputtering, gagging, and cursing, each person spit it out as soon as they could. The common reaction was anger; "Hey, you tricked us! This tastes awful!"  I promise this relates to life. I guarantee that if you're reading this right now you've had those bakers chocolate moments. Moments of life leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. Leaving you sputtering, gagging, and cursing. Angry. That's something I've been struggling with lately. I recently went through a break-up and at first (like every other relationship-ending story) I told myself we'd be friends. I told myself, everything would be fine and that we'd still talk and be close. Wrong. The break-up left me bitter. Crying like a baby that got it's candy stolen except it's not that simple. I've been asking God over and over and over, "what is your purpose for this? What am I supposed to learn from this." The answer came to me from a very dear friend today. She told me, "It's ok to be hurt, but don't let yourself be bitter." I'd yet to admit to myself I was feeling bitter until that very moment. Nobody had called me out on it and I've spent my afternoon wondering why I should stop being bitter. After all, it's so much easier. After some searching I found two verses that answered my question:  "Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger; brawling and slander, along with every form of malice" (Eph. 4:31)  and  "All of you, live in harmony with one another; be sympathetic, love as brothers, be compassionate and humble" (1 Pet. 3:6). Humble. Wow. I had never compared my anger to a lack of humility and today I realized that's exactly what it is. Every day I am reminded of a quote from my pastor, he said "When you truly understand what was done for you on the cross it makes it impossible for you to hold anything against another". Oh man, well doesn't that just kick my faulty logic to China. Here I've been seeing my bitterness as nothing more than "righteous" anger for being *dumped* (Yes, I really just admitted that I was dumped). What on earth is my ego's problem? The only person with righteous anger is a just and powerful God who gave me *his only son* to die on the cross to forgive me and here I am having a temper tantrum over a boy. Wow. Ephesians 4:26-27 says "Be angry, and yet do not sin. Do not let the sun go down on your anger and do not give the devil an opportunity". Well I'm in trouble because the devil's been having a field day with my emotions. However, my bitterness, my lack of humility, has already been forgiven. Washed away in a flood of mercy and grace and I'm a lucky duck that gets to surf on the waves of that ever lasting grace. So, the moral of the story is; don't choose the bitterness of bakers chocolate when there is a God offering you all the Hershey's you need. For a girl with a love of chocolate that sounds like a pretty sweet deal. 

Objectivity

Objectivity. I feel like those Dictionary.com "word of the day" things that you find on lame yahoo home pages. So when I say that word though, I'm kind of making up my own definition for it. I don't mean it in the sense of looking at a person or a situation without being biased. I mean, spending life feeling like an Object. Feeling sometimes more like a shiny new bike (or a dingy old one depending on how you see yourself) than a person. I've always struggled with this feeling. Lame, I know, but to be honest I think most people experience this feeling at least once in their life. That feeling of being in a room full of people and screaming the Sesame Street theme song at the top of your lungs and not a single person turns around to look at you. Ridiculous. I know, but don't you sit there at your computer screen and shake your head pretending you don't know what I'm talking about. Don't worry, no one will see you reading this. It's ok to admit you know how that feels.  I guess my experience of this feeling has always come from loser dudes who have no concept of loving a woman "as Christ loved the church". Heaven forbid, i'm going a little bit out of most people's comfort zones here, but it's true. You know, those guys that just kind of give you the ' up and down' look when you walk by, like they're looking at the new car they want and not seeing you for the woman you are. I guess I'm naive enough that I noticed it a long time ago, but never really understood what it meant until recently. Here's what I've learned; if you don't want to be "objectified" don't put yourself in situations where you will be. I'm learning the importance of dressing like I want to be respected, of not putting up with guys that don't know *how* to respect me. Girls, you are *princesses* and daughters of a King who holds you in a position his highest love and respect. "Charm is deceptive and beauty is fleeting, but a woman who *fears the LORD* is to be praised!" Proverbs 31:30. You are to be *praised* for being a woman of the Lord. I've spent my life wondering why I can't find a man who loves me the way Christ calls him to and I've realized it's because I'm not honoring and respecting that love that Christ has for me. Whoa. yea, it hits you pretty hard, huh? I've spent so much time being angry about being "objectified" and now I'm realizing that a lot of it has been my fault all along.
      This doesn't mean you have to feel guilty (which is what I'm trying to convince myself of at the moment). In the past week, I've met and talked with several people who are going through a really tough time.  The unifying feeling I felt from every single one of them was this; fear of being alone. Aren't we all? Goodness, I know I am. It's the running family joke in my house (that I brought on myself by complaining about it) is that I'm going to be a cat lady. Yep, it's true. One of those crazy old bag ladies that has 12 cats and puts stickers on the back of her '99 minivan "My cat is smarter than your honor roll student" and has no concept of social interaction. Utterly ridiculous. Tell me though, single ladies reading this, or even ones that are in a relationship now; did you ever feel that way? Totally afraid of something as ridiculous as being a cat lady (or dog lady?) simply because we are afraid of being alone.  I think this feeling of "objectivity" has a lot to do with this feeling. As a culture we have gotten so used to being put on a pedestal as women, but not in the right way. We're used to pop culture magazine that tell us through creepy 1984-esque subliminal messaging  "You must weigh X amount of pounds, have blue eyes, blonde hair, and wear trendy, revealing clothes to be powerful woman". What?! No no no no no. Don't fall for the trick. All those statements lead to a life of feeling "objectified". What else could it possibly lead to when "Cosmo" is talking rampantly about things that should be saved for marriage or showing fashion choices that might as well be illegal (mostly because they're ugly) but also because they reveal all of you...ahem...secrets. Your strength as a woman comes from a beautiful and perfect savior, and we all know from whence comes our strength comes or hope, our lifespring and our worth.  Oh man, what a complicated subject worth is and I'll save it for another day. My point in all of this is, I have spent far too much of my life in a tug-of-war between what my Savior does for me and how to serve him, and allowing the world to tell me how to be and feel. All that lead me to is a life of feeling like an object. A life of feeling like I should be a shiny new bike and all I'll ever be is dingy, old, rusty, and broken. Because the truth is, that's all we are: broken and messy people and that is BEAUTIFUL. I'll leave you with a quote from C.S. Lewis "It would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased." I'm learning to not let myself be "objectified".  Put down your mud pie and go play in the waves. 

My Life Is Pretty Darn Average

Alright, you caught me. I conformed to the internet land of blogging, so shoot me. I'm not really sure what made me do it. I guess the desire to share my thoughts and see if they were interesting enough for anyone to want to hear them. My Dad always told me I should write a book and always ignored him. If nothing else, I guess it was because in order to write something meaningful it has to come from a truth of something you've experienced. This, more than anything, scares the living heck out of me. The simple truth is, I love being honest with everyone but my self. When you write things down on paper it's like admitting it. So here I am like the rest of the world (and sounding like a total hipster for talking so much about conformity) blabbing about my life in the other world known as the internet. I'd love to sit here and act all introspective like I have something wise to share with everyone but I guess I just don't because the fact of the matter is, I'm as average as the next guy and I'm 19. What on earth do I know? Nothing. Zip.Nada. Zilch.Zero. That's something I'm learning these days, the older you get the more you realize how little you really know about life. So there you go. I admitted that I'm a silly starving college student with nothing of poetic intelligence or brilliant philosophy to say.
      The reason I named my blog "Dancing In The Light" was because of what God has been teaching me lately. His *GRACE* is enough to cover my multitude of sins. Believe me, there are a lot of them, but that's the thing about a beautiful and perfect savior. He cut my chains and brought me into the light it's my choice to Dance in that light or live in the Dark dreaming of a day in his glorious Sun. The verse that reminds me of this is Galations 2:20 "I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live but Christ who lives in me. The life I live in my body I live by faith in the Son of God who *Loved me and gave himself for me*". WOW. What a crazy thought to remember. A perfect being loved me enough to give his perfect life for my sinful mess. Now if you ask me, that's most definitely a reason to dance. *Whew* I guess now that I've admitted my inherent tendency to wish I was wise I can say whatever I think from here on out. Get ready, I tend to say exactly what's on my mind.