So I began today with the best intentions of doing homework and getting some thinking done. Apparently, I missed the boat on homework and jumped on the housework train instead.
I find this happens to me fairly regularly. It seems every time that I have a ton of papers to write or readings to do, the cleaning of my house, the uncluttering of my drawers, or the organizing of my CD's takes precedent over my academic obligations. Let's be clear that I do not have the most hectic or heavy semester currently, so I can afford to do my laundry, make supper (and an apple crisp), sweep my floor, do my dishes, and organize my nightstand all before I do my homework.
I know that many of my friends, fellow students, and acquaintances with jobs do not have this luxury, and that after this year I won't have this luxury either. Now comes the debate: do I try and quell this response to homework now while I don't have a heavy workload (kind of as a trial run before the real deal)? or do I just relish in the fact that I can do everything else on my "to-do" list before my homework? The more logical choice would probably be the former, yet for some reason, I doubt that I will take that route.
Oh, and apparently, we can add blogging to the list of things I will do before I do homework.
Anywho, random blog post, but I was just thinking about this as I was putting in a load of laundry at 12:15am on a Sunday night/Monday morning.
Peace and Goodnight!
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Saturday, September 25, 2010
"I"dentity Crisis
After a few harrowing, mind-bending conversations this week I am finding myself in a bit of an identity crisis. It seems that questioning everything about yourself and trying to figure out who you are is more than a bit of a task.
Thus, I have come to the conclusion as to why the word identity begins with "I". My best, and most educated, guess is that when searching for who you are, you are really searching for who "I" is. How can you define yourself without defining "who I am"? That's the problem, you can't. It seems that before life decisions can be made that you should really know who you are and what your "i"dentity is.
My issue, is that I still don't know who I am.... Ergo, Katie can't really make any life plans or make any decisions because she has no "I". Ok, wait, it's not that I don't have an "I".... it's more like I don't know what my "I" is... (are you getting annoyed of the excessive quotation marks yet?) I feel like identity is something everyone should have inherently built in to them, but sometimes I feel like mine got left out..
Ok, so this isn't the most brilliant post ever, but that's where my mind is currently... Though now I'm going to turn that off; no thinking about life stuff before soccer..... Maybe I'll return to this issue another day... and maybe it won't be 3 months later.. ;)
Thus, I have come to the conclusion as to why the word identity begins with "I". My best, and most educated, guess is that when searching for who you are, you are really searching for who "I" is. How can you define yourself without defining "who I am"? That's the problem, you can't. It seems that before life decisions can be made that you should really know who you are and what your "i"dentity is.
My issue, is that I still don't know who I am.... Ergo, Katie can't really make any life plans or make any decisions because she has no "I". Ok, wait, it's not that I don't have an "I".... it's more like I don't know what my "I" is... (are you getting annoyed of the excessive quotation marks yet?) I feel like identity is something everyone should have inherently built in to them, but sometimes I feel like mine got left out..
Ok, so this isn't the most brilliant post ever, but that's where my mind is currently... Though now I'm going to turn that off; no thinking about life stuff before soccer..... Maybe I'll return to this issue another day... and maybe it won't be 3 months later.. ;)
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Pet Peeves
This will be short and sweet, as it is 2:20am.
(Sheesh, go to sleep Katie)
I think pet peeves are a manifestation of our own downfalls and annoyances. I mean really, who is actually annoyed because someone has something stuck in their teeth, or they put clothes on their animals, etc etc. It seems to me that pet peeves are solely the qualities that we least want to see in ourselves appearing in other people. Take, for example, one of my pet peeves: blogs that are never updated, or have long been forgotten. This is quite hilarious, considering that my own blog, the one you are reading, or aren't, right now has not seen an entry for over a year. OVER A YEAR! I suppose when the people who's blogs I read don't update and I get annoyed or frustrated, its merely a reflection of my own disdain for my lackluster blogging habits. This irony is kind of ridiculous and hilarious. I thought that perhaps I should share it with you.
Though I don't think anyone is actually reading this.. hmm.
(Sheesh, go to sleep Katie)
I think pet peeves are a manifestation of our own downfalls and annoyances. I mean really, who is actually annoyed because someone has something stuck in their teeth, or they put clothes on their animals, etc etc. It seems to me that pet peeves are solely the qualities that we least want to see in ourselves appearing in other people. Take, for example, one of my pet peeves: blogs that are never updated, or have long been forgotten. This is quite hilarious, considering that my own blog, the one you are reading, or aren't, right now has not seen an entry for over a year. OVER A YEAR! I suppose when the people who's blogs I read don't update and I get annoyed or frustrated, its merely a reflection of my own disdain for my lackluster blogging habits. This irony is kind of ridiculous and hilarious. I thought that perhaps I should share it with you.
Though I don't think anyone is actually reading this.. hmm.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Laughter
It’s funny how a laugh can change a day, how a chuckle or a shared joke with an old friend can create and evoke such strong emotion. The sound of an old friends hysterical laugh can stir up memories from years gone by, can bring one to the verge of tears, or can cause a similar response of hysteria in oneself. Laughter must be a gift from God. To me, there is no denying the beauty in the laugh of a small child or in the deep belly laugh of a grandfather. People say that God rejoices in his people, I can only guess that this rejoicing is even more so when his people are laughing.
Laughter is infectious, contagious, and incurable. When engaged in the complete and utter helplessness of a laughing fit one can truly begin to appreciate this gift from God the Father. With tears streaming down a joyous face, abdominal muscles burning from all the tension one can then, and only then, realize the true joy in the simplicity of life. The pain and discomfort from hysterical is always followed by that unforgettable feeling of euphoria. It is amazing to think of this body that God has created, and see it in all it’s glory writhing in the hysterics of a laughing fit.
What is strange about laughing is that the more one does it, the easier it is to continue to do so. Have you ever tried to stop laughing in the middle of the aforementioned laughing fit? If so you know that this generally leads to only more hysterical, even maniacal laughter. It’s difficult to say why this happens, perhaps it is the sheer hilarity of the situation or perhaps it is because one must know that laughter is the best medicine. Have you ever felt sad or depressed after laughing hysterically for any amount of time? Have you ever felt sick? I would assume, or at least hope that you say no to this. Even today my roommates and I sitting around our kitchen table laughed hysterically about basically nothing. In those immediate, almost intimate moments of the calm after the storm of laughter, I felt nothing but bliss - sheer unadulterated happiness. Is there anything as simple as a good laugh in this life that is able to produce such a great amount of joy?
Yes, for me I must say that laughter is a blessed, glorious gift from God. And the people who can make us laugh must also be great gifts from the Father above. Really, if you think about it who was probably the first person to make you laugh? It was probably your own father, the guy who you puked on or disgusted with your “infant tendencies” ie. peeing/crying/puking/pooping in awkward circumstances.
I truly believe that if we are to embrace this life fully we must laugh everyday. Not just a chuckle, but a full blown ab-wrenching, tear-jerking, breath-holding laugh. One that shakes us to the core of our being and reminds us that life is not all business, not all homework, not all tragedy, but that there really is true joy in everything and everyone around us.
Words of advice for laughter:
1. Watch Ellen Degeneres stand up. (yes this is a definite promo... but I cannot lie... I think she is HIL-freaking-ARIOUS!)
2. Have plenty of tissue ready to wipe up those tears of joy.
3. Try forcing a laugh, it is really so ridiculous that you eventually burst into hysteria... it definitely worked for my roommate Kyla.
4. Sit for an extended period of time and talk about nothing with people you love the most something hilarious always seems to develop when you allow yourself to be surrounded by those people. Some of the best laughs in my entire life came from sitting with my brother at the dinner table when we were supposed to be eating our vegetables or in sitting with cousins at one of those extended family events.
5. DO NOT TICKLE!!!! This is a 100% DON’T!!! (the person may seem like they are laughing but really they are in complete and utter agony - DON’T EVER FORCIBLY TICKLE SOMEONE: it will only result in one of the parties getting seriously injured)
6. WARNING: Forcing a laugh at an unfunny joke can result in many terrible, unfunny jokes to be told in the future. A slight chuckle is best suited in that situation.
7. Not every “funny” email is a FUNNY email. A good thing to remember, if you are not busting your gut laughing, chances are the person you email it to won’t do so either so keep those emails to yourself.
Laughter is infectious, contagious, and incurable. When engaged in the complete and utter helplessness of a laughing fit one can truly begin to appreciate this gift from God the Father. With tears streaming down a joyous face, abdominal muscles burning from all the tension one can then, and only then, realize the true joy in the simplicity of life. The pain and discomfort from hysterical is always followed by that unforgettable feeling of euphoria. It is amazing to think of this body that God has created, and see it in all it’s glory writhing in the hysterics of a laughing fit.
What is strange about laughing is that the more one does it, the easier it is to continue to do so. Have you ever tried to stop laughing in the middle of the aforementioned laughing fit? If so you know that this generally leads to only more hysterical, even maniacal laughter. It’s difficult to say why this happens, perhaps it is the sheer hilarity of the situation or perhaps it is because one must know that laughter is the best medicine. Have you ever felt sad or depressed after laughing hysterically for any amount of time? Have you ever felt sick? I would assume, or at least hope that you say no to this. Even today my roommates and I sitting around our kitchen table laughed hysterically about basically nothing. In those immediate, almost intimate moments of the calm after the storm of laughter, I felt nothing but bliss - sheer unadulterated happiness. Is there anything as simple as a good laugh in this life that is able to produce such a great amount of joy?
Yes, for me I must say that laughter is a blessed, glorious gift from God. And the people who can make us laugh must also be great gifts from the Father above. Really, if you think about it who was probably the first person to make you laugh? It was probably your own father, the guy who you puked on or disgusted with your “infant tendencies” ie. peeing/crying/puking/pooping in awkward circumstances.
I truly believe that if we are to embrace this life fully we must laugh everyday. Not just a chuckle, but a full blown ab-wrenching, tear-jerking, breath-holding laugh. One that shakes us to the core of our being and reminds us that life is not all business, not all homework, not all tragedy, but that there really is true joy in everything and everyone around us.
Words of advice for laughter:
1. Watch Ellen Degeneres stand up. (yes this is a definite promo... but I cannot lie... I think she is HIL-freaking-ARIOUS!)
2. Have plenty of tissue ready to wipe up those tears of joy.
3. Try forcing a laugh, it is really so ridiculous that you eventually burst into hysteria... it definitely worked for my roommate Kyla.
4. Sit for an extended period of time and talk about nothing with people you love the most something hilarious always seems to develop when you allow yourself to be surrounded by those people. Some of the best laughs in my entire life came from sitting with my brother at the dinner table when we were supposed to be eating our vegetables or in sitting with cousins at one of those extended family events.
5. DO NOT TICKLE!!!! This is a 100% DON’T!!! (the person may seem like they are laughing but really they are in complete and utter agony - DON’T EVER FORCIBLY TICKLE SOMEONE: it will only result in one of the parties getting seriously injured)
6. WARNING: Forcing a laugh at an unfunny joke can result in many terrible, unfunny jokes to be told in the future. A slight chuckle is best suited in that situation.
7. Not every “funny” email is a FUNNY email. A good thing to remember, if you are not busting your gut laughing, chances are the person you email it to won’t do so either so keep those emails to yourself.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Breakfast in the dark
It has become my fate to eat breakfast in the dark 5 days a week due to 8am classes twice a week and 7am work shifts three times a week. Granted this makes for many EARLY mornings, ergo meaning I eat breakfast in the dark. I must say it's a strange feeling to go to bed in the dark and to wake up and eat in the dark. Almost as if I am a little kid again, waking up ridiculously earlier in the middle of the night to snack so my parents won't know. Alas, this is my reality.. and to be honest... I am beginning to love it.
Side affects of this "love affair" I am having with early mornings include, dark circles under my eyes, an unignorable need to take a nap every afternoon, and a great affinity for sleeping in through church on Sunday mornings because it is my only day to sleep in. For now, my love of these quiet, still, and dark mornings will overshadow the side affects that I have thus far encountered, alas, I fear the day when I just long to ignore the blaring alarm for one last glorious grasp at the warmth, comfort, and worry-free bliss of sleep.
Side affects of this "love affair" I am having with early mornings include, dark circles under my eyes, an unignorable need to take a nap every afternoon, and a great affinity for sleeping in through church on Sunday mornings because it is my only day to sleep in. For now, my love of these quiet, still, and dark mornings will overshadow the side affects that I have thus far encountered, alas, I fear the day when I just long to ignore the blaring alarm for one last glorious grasp at the warmth, comfort, and worry-free bliss of sleep.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
IS Conference
Is there such a thing as righteous anger? Righteous anger, not at an act committed but rather at an attitude or shared attitude?
If so, I think I may have experienced it in all it's glory today. Bi-annually my university-college has what we call an "interdisciplinary studies" conference. This year the organizers decided to have the conference on the Truth and Reconciliation commission that has been established in Canada to deal with our past regarding Residential Schools. I think that this is a very important subject, regardless of your beliefs or knowledge on the subject. For many of us, our knowledge on this subject is limited if present at all. And yet, it seems like no one cares.
I guess to truly understand my grudge, you must understand the conference more fully. It is mandatory to attend six of these conferences (so three years) to graduate from this university. On top of this is the fact that we are to write a short, and I mean short (750words), essay on what we learned, or questions we have on the subject of the conference. To give you an example of conference subjects, this fall's conference was on "Invisible Dignity" regarding the people throughout the world who have been ignored, shunned, hurt, and forgotten. The conference before that was entitled "Thought for Food" which involved discussions on the global food crisis and possible ways in which it can be dealt with. To be frank and honest, sometimes, if not numerous times these conferences can be dry, and hard to listen to - especially the morning sessions. But that does not mean that the topics these conferences address do not deserve our time and attention. The mandatory attendance and essay, I'm afraid, have ruined this conference. Students attend only begrudgingly so that they can get the grade and get out. This is really very regrettable. What these conferences have to say is important. Important to know, important to talk about, important to be present in society today.
Normally you would not hear me, or rather read me, advocating for the IS Conference but something has been stirred in me and I am realizing now how important and essential these issues and ideas brought up by the conference are. This conference has particular resonance with me. Residential Schools are not ancient history. The last one closed in 1996, and as I'm thinking most of us were alive and well during 1996. We watched this happen, our government watched this happen, and perhaps, most disturbingly- the church not only watched this happen, but initiated and ran these schools. We owe something to these people whom we stomped, beat, and abused the culture out of yet many students at our school do not care enough to attend the conference. I don't understand this. Residential Schools happened right here in Canada. The affects of these schools is evident, the hurt and pain is still there. Why don't people care what happened? Why are we content to think that reparations and settlements are going to fix the suffering these people endured? Why have we been so close minded, so stubbornly believing that everything wrong in Canadian Aboriginal society today is their own fault?
I just wish that we, as students, could step up and take this conference, these ideas more seriously. Drink more coffee, more Coke, more Pepsi, more tea- whatever caffeinated beverage you prefer. Go to bed earlier. I don't know. But what I do know is that it is essential for us as a generation to step up and discover what is going on in the world around us, in the nation around us. Believer or not, student or not, we owe it to the world we inhabit, the country we call home, the people around us, to fight ignorance. To stand up and say, "I want to know what is going on in this world, I want to work for positive change, I want to see something happen. And something happen in this generation, not thousands of year from now, but now. I want to see change."
So I challenge you if you're going to King's that you would not let the IS paper dull your interest in the conference. I challenge you to not fall into the typical pattern of thought among students that the conference doesn't really matter and to step up and realize that there is something larger at stake here. If you are not a King's student, I challenge you to attend and think- scratch that, if you are anyone, I challenge you to attend and think. Or maybe even just think- read the newspaper, question what you see, question whether or not it could have been prevented, ask why it happened, ask how it can be changed. Challenge yourself not to live your life content to sit on the sidelines and make no acknowledgement of what is going on around you. Take responsibility for the world in which you live. Find out what is going on- both good and bad. Life is not fully lived unless you truly see the world around you.
If so, I think I may have experienced it in all it's glory today. Bi-annually my university-college has what we call an "interdisciplinary studies" conference. This year the organizers decided to have the conference on the Truth and Reconciliation commission that has been established in Canada to deal with our past regarding Residential Schools. I think that this is a very important subject, regardless of your beliefs or knowledge on the subject. For many of us, our knowledge on this subject is limited if present at all. And yet, it seems like no one cares.
I guess to truly understand my grudge, you must understand the conference more fully. It is mandatory to attend six of these conferences (so three years) to graduate from this university. On top of this is the fact that we are to write a short, and I mean short (750words), essay on what we learned, or questions we have on the subject of the conference. To give you an example of conference subjects, this fall's conference was on "Invisible Dignity" regarding the people throughout the world who have been ignored, shunned, hurt, and forgotten. The conference before that was entitled "Thought for Food" which involved discussions on the global food crisis and possible ways in which it can be dealt with. To be frank and honest, sometimes, if not numerous times these conferences can be dry, and hard to listen to - especially the morning sessions. But that does not mean that the topics these conferences address do not deserve our time and attention. The mandatory attendance and essay, I'm afraid, have ruined this conference. Students attend only begrudgingly so that they can get the grade and get out. This is really very regrettable. What these conferences have to say is important. Important to know, important to talk about, important to be present in society today.
Normally you would not hear me, or rather read me, advocating for the IS Conference but something has been stirred in me and I am realizing now how important and essential these issues and ideas brought up by the conference are. This conference has particular resonance with me. Residential Schools are not ancient history. The last one closed in 1996, and as I'm thinking most of us were alive and well during 1996. We watched this happen, our government watched this happen, and perhaps, most disturbingly- the church not only watched this happen, but initiated and ran these schools. We owe something to these people whom we stomped, beat, and abused the culture out of yet many students at our school do not care enough to attend the conference. I don't understand this. Residential Schools happened right here in Canada. The affects of these schools is evident, the hurt and pain is still there. Why don't people care what happened? Why are we content to think that reparations and settlements are going to fix the suffering these people endured? Why have we been so close minded, so stubbornly believing that everything wrong in Canadian Aboriginal society today is their own fault?
I just wish that we, as students, could step up and take this conference, these ideas more seriously. Drink more coffee, more Coke, more Pepsi, more tea- whatever caffeinated beverage you prefer. Go to bed earlier. I don't know. But what I do know is that it is essential for us as a generation to step up and discover what is going on in the world around us, in the nation around us. Believer or not, student or not, we owe it to the world we inhabit, the country we call home, the people around us, to fight ignorance. To stand up and say, "I want to know what is going on in this world, I want to work for positive change, I want to see something happen. And something happen in this generation, not thousands of year from now, but now. I want to see change."
So I challenge you if you're going to King's that you would not let the IS paper dull your interest in the conference. I challenge you to not fall into the typical pattern of thought among students that the conference doesn't really matter and to step up and realize that there is something larger at stake here. If you are not a King's student, I challenge you to attend and think- scratch that, if you are anyone, I challenge you to attend and think. Or maybe even just think- read the newspaper, question what you see, question whether or not it could have been prevented, ask why it happened, ask how it can be changed. Challenge yourself not to live your life content to sit on the sidelines and make no acknowledgement of what is going on around you. Take responsibility for the world in which you live. Find out what is going on- both good and bad. Life is not fully lived unless you truly see the world around you.
Friday, October 10, 2008
unorthodox
This is kind of strange. I suppose I just want to come forward and do something a little unorthodox; something possibly a little odd, but I think it's something I have to do.
If I tagged you in this note it is because I trust you, I think you deserve to know truth and deserve to know what is going on in my life and heart. So here goes.
I am struggling. I am not doing good. You may have noticed or you may not have. Regardless this is the truth. I have been trying my best to hide it; I have been trying my best to put on a mask, to put on a brave face and pretend like everything is going good. It's not as if my life is a wreck or like I am struggling with day to day living; but more on the spiritual end of things. I have a various assortment of masks that I have been wearing these past weeks, and months. Regardless of how strong I may see or how "together" might look; trust me.. I am not. I am not writing this to discourage you, but I feel I need to be truthful.
My heart feels as if it is being torn to pieces. I am pretty sure that I am not where I am supposed to be, yet I am terrified of where I am supposed to go. I am terrified of trusting God. So terrified that I can barely pray and worship has become so painful. It just seems that the more I realize what I need to do, the more I run in the wrong direction. These days, nothing feels right. Places where I used to feel so at home, like church or prayer, now seem like foreign places.
I want to say that I am not writing this for pity or for sympathy or empathy. I am writing this because I feel I have been fake with many of you. Spoken words that I am finding trouble believing, acting as if everything is ok when it most definitely has not been ok. I need to come clean with you all. Come clean to the fact that I have been lying in my actions and in my heart; that I have put on so many masks to hide the fact that I am not where I want to be, hide the fact that I can't seem to get back on track with God and with myself. I know this is rather out of the ordinary but if I can say this without seeming like I am contradicting myself, I think this is what we need right now. I think we need honesty. Honesty about where we are, honesty about what we're feeling, and honesty about struggles we may be having. We cannot be in community, I don't believe, if we are not completely and utterly honest with each other.
So I guess I'm just saying that I need to be truthful. I feel completely broken because I know exactly what I am supposed to do but I cannot do it. God is just asking me to trust him; but I am so scared to. I am terrified that if I trust him that everything will hit the fan again. I know all the great things about God: all knowing, all merciful, all loving, etc etc, and it's not as if I don't believe these things about him but I am just so scared that if I trust him that I will end up in the same place as I did last time I trusted God; fake and alone. When my mom died, I "knew" that it was God's plan; I "knew" that it was going to be ok.. But I was so busy being sure that it was God's plan that I did not grieve. I will always regret that. I regret not telling God that it wasn't fair. I regret every tear that I didn't cry. And now that I'm being ask to trust I am so scared of that same thing happening again.
I hate to say that I am scared to trust because I did it so "well" the first time around. Everyone would tell me how much I encouraged them with my faith despite of my mom's death. They were awestruck by how I trusted God even when everything was falling apart and now to tell them, you, that I am finding it so hard to trust just breaks my heart. I would wish that I could trust now as I did then but it's just so hard. I know that it is supposed to be hard, but right now I can't fight my own weakness, and I can barely stand on my own two spiritual feet. I am almost feeling now that I shouldn't be writing this; it seems like a "pity party", I want to assure you that it was not and is not meant to be that. I simply wanted to be honest with you. I wanted you to know that no matter how brave a face I put on right now; I am not perfect, I am not even imperfect, but I am broken.
I hope this wasn't discouraging. I don't expect that it was encouraging. But I hope that it.. I don't even know what I hope. Thanks for reading this and thank you for being my friend.
If I tagged you in this note it is because I trust you, I think you deserve to know truth and deserve to know what is going on in my life and heart. So here goes.
I am struggling. I am not doing good. You may have noticed or you may not have. Regardless this is the truth. I have been trying my best to hide it; I have been trying my best to put on a mask, to put on a brave face and pretend like everything is going good. It's not as if my life is a wreck or like I am struggling with day to day living; but more on the spiritual end of things. I have a various assortment of masks that I have been wearing these past weeks, and months. Regardless of how strong I may see or how "together" might look; trust me.. I am not. I am not writing this to discourage you, but I feel I need to be truthful.
My heart feels as if it is being torn to pieces. I am pretty sure that I am not where I am supposed to be, yet I am terrified of where I am supposed to go. I am terrified of trusting God. So terrified that I can barely pray and worship has become so painful. It just seems that the more I realize what I need to do, the more I run in the wrong direction. These days, nothing feels right. Places where I used to feel so at home, like church or prayer, now seem like foreign places.
I want to say that I am not writing this for pity or for sympathy or empathy. I am writing this because I feel I have been fake with many of you. Spoken words that I am finding trouble believing, acting as if everything is ok when it most definitely has not been ok. I need to come clean with you all. Come clean to the fact that I have been lying in my actions and in my heart; that I have put on so many masks to hide the fact that I am not where I want to be, hide the fact that I can't seem to get back on track with God and with myself. I know this is rather out of the ordinary but if I can say this without seeming like I am contradicting myself, I think this is what we need right now. I think we need honesty. Honesty about where we are, honesty about what we're feeling, and honesty about struggles we may be having. We cannot be in community, I don't believe, if we are not completely and utterly honest with each other.
So I guess I'm just saying that I need to be truthful. I feel completely broken because I know exactly what I am supposed to do but I cannot do it. God is just asking me to trust him; but I am so scared to. I am terrified that if I trust him that everything will hit the fan again. I know all the great things about God: all knowing, all merciful, all loving, etc etc, and it's not as if I don't believe these things about him but I am just so scared that if I trust him that I will end up in the same place as I did last time I trusted God; fake and alone. When my mom died, I "knew" that it was God's plan; I "knew" that it was going to be ok.. But I was so busy being sure that it was God's plan that I did not grieve. I will always regret that. I regret not telling God that it wasn't fair. I regret every tear that I didn't cry. And now that I'm being ask to trust I am so scared of that same thing happening again.
I hate to say that I am scared to trust because I did it so "well" the first time around. Everyone would tell me how much I encouraged them with my faith despite of my mom's death. They were awestruck by how I trusted God even when everything was falling apart and now to tell them, you, that I am finding it so hard to trust just breaks my heart. I would wish that I could trust now as I did then but it's just so hard. I know that it is supposed to be hard, but right now I can't fight my own weakness, and I can barely stand on my own two spiritual feet. I am almost feeling now that I shouldn't be writing this; it seems like a "pity party", I want to assure you that it was not and is not meant to be that. I simply wanted to be honest with you. I wanted you to know that no matter how brave a face I put on right now; I am not perfect, I am not even imperfect, but I am broken.
I hope this wasn't discouraging. I don't expect that it was encouraging. But I hope that it.. I don't even know what I hope. Thanks for reading this and thank you for being my friend.
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