All I Have.

I once was lost in darkest night
Yet thought I knew the way.
The sin that promised joy and life

Had led me to the grave.

I had no hope that You would own

A rebel to Your will.

And if You had not loved me first

I would refuse You still.

The battle rages all around me, thick with arrows of doubt, anger, cutting deep into my soul, slashing at my heart. I fight back with words of hate--all the paybacks I think my enemies deserve. All the words I wouldn't say to their faces, black and distorted, ugly and mocking. It's easy to hide. Easier then standing in the open, standing in this black, empty place--a place where I see nothing but death, nothing but a gaping hole of doom. Of no turning back. Of lies I don't believe. Lies that make me drop my sword, cover my ears, close my eyes as another arrow of insult hurtles into my wounded spirit.

With a cry I drop to my knees.

But as I ran my hell-bound race
Indifferent to the cost
You looked upon my helpless state

And led me to the cross.

And I beheld God’s love displayed

You suffered in my place

You bore the wrath reserved for me

Now all I know is grace.

I see His Shadow. That vague light, getting ever stronger--brighter, brighter as I watch Him. As I train my eyes on the One, the great Warrior and King. My King. The enemy falls at His glance, right and left like puffs of smoke, running like frightened children--mere imaginations; ghosts of my mind. For now I see who they really are: the tests and trials of the Christian life. And now, when I take my Kings hand, and though the battle rages round us, I am untouched. Because He is leading. Because in His Shadow I see the arrows fall--fall into my hole of death.

Hallelujah! All I have is Christ
Hallelujah! Jesus is my life

See, I've learned a lot about surrender. Oh no, I'll never surrender to the enemy. But I've surrendered my battles--the spiritual warfare of every day, to my King. When I finally let Him guide my stubborn, wandering heart. . .beautiful things happen. I'm not saying the trials are any easier. I'm not saying that I'm always filled with the Joy of Him or always walk in His Light. But when He leads--when we audibly cry out to Him--in the darkest night, in the darkest hole, when the arrows fly the fastest. . .then, and only then, can He work. I of all people know how difficult it is to find that surrender, to allow Him to gather my tears and put them in a bottle. To give Him my all and everything, and to know that everything works together for His good. I'm learning. And I want Him to fight for me.

Now, Lord, I would be Yours alone
And live so all might see
The strength to follow Your commands
Could never come from me.

Oh Father, use my ransomed life

In any way You choose.

And let my song forever be

My only boast is You.

As many of you may have guessed, I just returned from a beautiful, God-filled trip to the San Antonio Independent Christian Film Festival. This is one of my surrender points. You see, the Lord orchestrated every single atom of everything that happened--but I'm home now. I'm back to the ho-hum of life, to the purposeless-ness of the every day grind. It's hard. I admit that with all my heart. And there are things that have happened since SA that just don't make sense--things that I can't face alone. Things I wish I didn't have to think about, worry about--things I've been trying these past few days to surrender. Strange, because I feel such a peace now. . . Maybe that's what Spiritual maturity feels like. Maybe that's just the answer to all the testing. I don't know.

But I do know that today

I'm grateful for a family who loves me. For parents who listen and understand. For a friend so close I can tell her anything, and even as a newly married bride, takes the time to pray for me. I'm grateful for accusations. I'm grateful for hard hearts. I'm grateful for misunderstandings. I'm grateful for things that stretch everything in my weak, inexperienced self--like running through an airport. . .just knowing we'd miss our flight. . .up and down escalators, panting and out of breath, carrying heavy bags. . .and finally getting to our gate with 15 minutes to spare. Red faces, dry throats, and all. I'm grateful. For the little things; meeting the winner of the SAICFF Best of Festival in the airport. For old and new friendships. For people who may never know how much they bless me. . .and for others who I'd just like to slap. I'm grateful even for them.

You see, I'm grateful--for life! For a God who stretches me. Who puts the most difficult into my life. Who forces me to love, when I have only reason to hate. Without Christ we are nothing. Without Christ the battles of life would overcome us--and they do. Unless we find the courage to put aside our weak flesh and realize that He can overcome. That He DOES overcome. That we are measly worms challenging a great and mighty King.

 Hallelujah! All I have is Christ

Hallelujah! Jesus is my life

Christ is All I Have.

Lyrics © 2008 Sovereign Grace Praise 

the story of dreams

"What, after all, is romance? 



It is the music of those who make the world turn, the people who make things happen. 



Romance is the story of dreams that could come true and so often do. 

Why do men ride the range? Go to sea? Explore the polar icecaps? Why do they ride rockets to unknown worlds? 



It is because of romance, 



because of the stories they have read and the stories they have dreamed.

Some have said this is the age of the nonhero, that the day of the hero is gone. 



That's nonsense. 



When the hero is gone, man himself will be gone, for the hero is our future, our destiny."



Louis L'amour

all photos via my Pinterest board, Be Still My Heart 

Write Upon These Pages

{in tribute to the new year}

{pic of Yours Truly by my very-highly talented sister, Anna}

Write upon these pages Lord

This year unblemished, white

An empty, snowy canvas

Shadowed by uncertain "might".

My life has been a short one

Of sunbeams, dancing days

Golden, creamy moon-shine

Young hopes and carefree play.

Yes I know that You've been weeping

I see Your eyes so kind

Seas of deepest passion

Understanding and Divine. 

You seem a distant shadow

A silent, phantom breath

Forever there, just watching

In merciful, forgiving stealth.

Write upon these pages Lord

This pointless, shallow life

Like trees unrobed in winter

When Jack Frost bears his knife.

Driving dreams to slumber

Hiding all within

The enchanted sleep of winter

When the world must cease her din.

And underneath that stillness

As Mother Nature floats

In patient mantled waiting

Of listless, untold hopes.

That's me, the girl there watching

From a window cold with dread

With a soul of crushing sorrow

Teaming with the living dead.

I scale a shining future

I hear the battles call

I feel it in my bosom

I see the towering wall.

That guards this time of waiting

These pages, stark and blank

Flowing with Life's-River

To it's barren, lonely bank.

Write upon these pages Lord

As I write on my white sheet

This page of perfect purity 

Now black with smattered ink.

With thoughts of fairy-gardens

Of twinkling, starry hours

Swirling, sugared dew-drops

Tangled, rose-climbed bowers.

If life were only dream-land

How sweet, how fresh it'd seem

Skipping down the shoreline 

Of a careless, bubbling stream.

No walls to keep me waiting

No window etched in snow

No page to call my canvas

No poem to flex my bow.

I'd skip across eternity

In endless, carefree dance

Waltzing with the dryads

A storybook romance.

Burst you now my bubble?

Oh cruel, relentless life!

God's there, forever calling

"Only look and see My Light."

You bend so I can see You

And into my ear You say

"Patience, my dear child

You and I will fight the day."

"This page is blank but for a time

This waiting but a test

And soon you'll see, my child

That in ME you'll find your rest."

"I'll help you fill these pages

With all your carefree dreams

But take each trial gladly

Things aren't always what they seem."

Write upon these pages Lord

That wall, you say it's Yours?

It's there, just like my window

Keeping safe a soul that burns

With a world so vast and waiting

With spoiled, travel-lorn plans

With a heart that wants a difference

To impact with giving hands.

And past those rainbow wanderings

Into something deeper still

The true, undaunted calling

Of my Masters Time and Will.

Only then I'll paint my canvas

With worlds of colored glass

And God with endless winter

Will melt my page at last.

Copyright Michaela Cira, 1/5/'13

Remember{ing} To Smile.

#currentlylisteningtoRememberToSmilebyPatrickDoyle

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I have much to be happy about. The Lord has and is doing amazing things in my life-- and yet, now that I'm finally, officially home for the next several weeks, there is discontentment in my soul. Crazy, I know, especially after a recent facebook status proclaiming my glorious joy in Christ, my care-free spirit and love for Him. I just came home from a week-long vacation. (btw, I have not forgotten to post pictures! Will do ASAP.) I saw my beloved High Kings in concert. I returned to the sewing machine, needle-strewn basement of the Beyond the Mask costume production team (part of it, aka, a friends home, ala headquarters of the production team.) All within a month. Sounds just about perfect, right? And yet, here I am. . .burdened by emotional cares and the feeling of utter uselessness. No matter how hard I work--nannying, household chores. . .watching The Waltons with my sisters, attending (as a spectator,) a civil war reenactment battle--so many plans, hopes, dreams. Things HAPPENING--right now.

Why am I discontent?

We all go through "lonely" times. Often without explanation. I wonder--is it always wrong, this "needing something more"? Yes, we are to be content in all things. But sometimes the Lord puts a restlessness in our soul--that unspeakable urge--to DO something, GO somewhere, make a difference, see a change. BE a change.

This thing I'm interpreting as discontentment--could it be God's voice? That's what I'm trying to discover. . .and strangely, mind-boggling enough, the answer came yesterday. Possibly. I can't say what right now, (never fear, no young men are involved, ;) ) but if it works, if it's in the Lord's Will, if I can get over the scared-to-death and see beyond--it's a strange mix of all that, really, inside. . .it may ( keyword,) be the most miraculous experience of my life. {Hint: It very possibly begins with an "Ire" and ends in "land".}

Here I am. . .wondering, "Lord, what is it you want from me?" If only we could have a long discussion. . .around a coffee table, just Jesus and I. I have so many questions. And to tell the truth, the answer "wait" doesn't feel sufficient.

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But it is. Because HE is sufficient. 

Wait on the LORD: be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart: wait, I say, on the LORD

--Psalm 27:14

Quick life-updates:  // fallish weather has officially arrived in Ohio. Which means berets. . .I picked up an adorable one from Charming Charlie the other day. Pics may come. ;) // Homemade mac and cheese, btw, is divine. . .when cooked in the microwave. It tastes almost like Stouffers. o.O // Seen so many movies/read so many books I feel swamped with all the reviews that need posting! Um . . .Persuasion 2007. Is all I'll say. And I don't even like JA. // Event planning (The Ohio Summer Rendezvous, a homeschool retreat my family hosts annually,) is in full, frantic swing. Lots of work, but always so worth it! // Pearl Maiden. . .is one of the most incredible novels I've ever read. Les Miz has a rival. // I'm considering **possibly** revealing the Narnian of my personal affection.  // My sister Julia just turned 15. // An anti-facebookian has returned. . .to facebook. And is enjoying herself. // I love Les Miserables, Andrea Bocelli, and The High Kings. Oh wait, you already knew that. :P //

I'll be back with a cheerier post soon, promise. Thanks for listening, er, reading my rants. ;) Can't wait to share vacaton and High King's pics!--and if you think about it, please pray about this "possible HUGE opportunity". I'd so appreciate it!

Oh, and before I forget, eShakti is giving a special discount to all {Rhapsody} in PINK readers! Just type in this code to receive 10% off your purchese: PNN7RAR

Running.

Raised in Christian home. Always "doing the right thing". Learning every day from Scripture--saying, acting, reminding--Walking the Walk. It's been imprinted in the heart--the core of the "Christian kid". It hasn't Saved us, but it's been the foundation for our faith, this making of Christ the all and everything--a personal, one on one Relationship. Not just something mom and dad want. A true surrender to the God of the world. The One and Only Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ.

When I was young He was my passion. I was learning and growing--in body and mind. I've always had a zeal for Truth, deeply felt my sin, and became readily convicted. My Bible was my best friend--my parents demi-gods. Sound familiar? Growing is eye-opening; now in my 20's I know that, wait, dad, mom--they are human too. They sin. That's why we sometimes squabble, or I've harbored angry thoughts. Why there is sometimes confusion, hurt. My parents aren't perfect. And I'm beginning to accept this--in a way that draws me closer to them. Yes, it's possible to actually want to obey and surrender. For this strong-willed gal, that's huge. If I can do it, you certainly can.

Running. So we've grown up in Christian homes. We've "always done the right thing". We know everything there is to know (or so we think). Quiet time, church, speaking His Name, singing praises, praying before meals, tossing flippant "Praise the Lords", here and there--are all common practices. And sometimes, though we're doing "things just so" (aka, works,)--something is missing. He, Jesus, doesn't always feel close. Or have we "lost" that beautiful, innocent, childlike faith? That passion, that drive--because "well, now we've hit our 20's. We have our own minds, and well, I'm Saved, I know what I believe. . ." Willing to stand at the edge of the world--the cliff that, one wrong move, plunges the tempted into backsliding. "Aw, but that won't happen, because I Pray and Read each morning. . .or, ok, at least once a month". 

"Strive to enter in at the strait gate: for many, I say unto you, will seek to enter in, and shall not be able."

-Luke 13:24

Running. The Olympics are the talk of facebook--of the world. London is intriguing enough, but then all the pomp, the competition, the thousands of athletes working toward one goal: the gold medal. In church this morning the pastor said something interesting--how many of these celebrated athletes went to church--or worshiped the Lord--today? WE, as Born Again believers, running the race of Faith, are the real gold medalists! 

 

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"I therefore so run, not as uncertainly; so fight I, not as one that beateth the air: But I keep under my body, and bring it into subjection: lest that by any means, when I have preached to others, I myself should be a castaway."  -1 Cor. 9:27

My family decided to see a show in Dollywood Tennessee called, "The Gazillion Bubble Show" (sounds horribly corny, I know, but all the rides were closed down due to weather). I was sick all day with a cold--stuffy head, stuffy ears, stuffy nose. . . Lets put it this way; amusement parks are NOT on my list of happy-head-cold places. Nice warm bed and a cup of tea? Exactly. 

Anyhow, as I sat watching the "worlds greatest bubble artist" perform daring feats of bubbledom, I suddenly needed to get out. Strobe lights. . .are overwhelming to stuffy-persons; so I retreated outdoors, into the congested, noisy park. As I moped, a pretty blonde girl approached, asking,
"Are you saving a seat for someone?" 

"No." 

"Oh, good." 

She proceeded to sit beside me, launching into friendly chatter (poor thing probably had a cold for days afterward). To make a long story short, I learned that she was with a ministry evangelism team, had recently gotten Saved, and well, was planning on witnessing to me. {amusing, but that's beside the point}I now know, terrible as it was, WHY that cold plagued my vacation: I was supposed to encourage this new Christian. And in turn, I was more blessed and inspired then I'd been in ages--just what I needed in a "Spiritual dry spot". 

This girls enthusiasm for her Jesus was something I've rarely seen--so much sparkle, warmth, eagerness. Oh, how I long to love Him like that! 

"Wherefore seeing we also are compassed about with so great a cloud of witness, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us RUN the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God."

-Hebrew 12:1-2

Are you still Running?--or are you stagnant in excuses? Dry because you "know everything the Bible says," and thus tempted to step over the edge? Pray, Read, Sing, Worship. Look to the Mark--and He will show you how to make Him Alive in your soul. That passion is in there, if we only let Him find it. Let us lay aside every weight--step away from that edge. Let us run the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus. 

All photos, unless otherwise specified, are from my Pinterest board, What Makes Life Beautiful.

my day. {#1}

it was a day of learning. but aren't they all that way? i woke up in a grouchy mood, still coming down from a disagreement two evenings ago. it was a day of country goodness. deep in the heart of amish country--serene, rolling, filled with barnyard smells, open space, and farmers preparing their fields. it was a day of surrender. when i realized my bad mood was only making ME miserable. that deep down i wanted to be happy. it was a day of change. bad mood turned to good. able at last to enjoy the emotion of an all-girl household. crammed into one van. you should try it sometime. ;) it was a day of red sun dresses, yogurt-covered pretzels, and peach scented candles. then. it was a day of learning. again. a less-than-friendly encounter with a total stranger. . .it hurt. to the point of tears. it was a day of renewal. on the way home i heard a radio show that seemed meant for me. and i realized something very important. i realized how easily the devil deceives me. how often i listen to his lies, his promise of failure--"don't pray. don't Read. you aren't worth anything." but that is just part of the Christian Walk. some days lessons like these hit harder then others. today was that sort of day. then i remembered the tiny miracle of two days ago, when i was cutting the grass. so small, so big to me. the tank was on empty--literally, the mower should have died. but i prayed--not a simple, quick, thrown up prayer--a challenge, begging. it was a test of faith. my faith. and the grass was cut. all of it. Christ's answer--two days ago--"YES pray. YES Read. you are worth EVERYTHING to Me." later today i took my puppy for a walk around the yard. lilacs ARE spring, btw. i snitched them from the neighbors bush. they're in a vase on the windowsill now. and you know what? i'm completely happy and content--God is my Rock and my Fortress.

my day.

2 Corinthians 12:9-10

And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee:
 

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for my strength is made perfect in weakness. 

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Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. 

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Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ's sake: 

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for when I am weak, then am I strong.

Dubliner cheese, southern charm, and sun-shiny thoughts

Come by the hills to the land where fancy is free.And stand where the peaks meet the sky and the loughs meet the sea,Where the rivers run clear and the bracken is gold in the sun;And the cares of tomorrow can wait till this day is done.
Come by the hills to the land where life is a song.And stand where the birds fill the air with their joy all day long,Where the trees sway in time and even the wind sings in tune;And, the cares of tomorrow can wait till this day is done.
Come by the hills to the land where legend remains.The stories of old, fill the heart and may yet come again,Where the past has been lost and the future is still to be won;And, the cares of tomorrow can wait till this day is done. ♥
 

Ah, but it's fun pretendin' to be Irish on St. Paddy's day. Being Italian is pretty amazing, (ignoring the 25% Polish, naturally,) but I just can't help adoring everything Celtic. So here I am, home alone, wearing my Irish Girl at Heart shirt, reminiscing about my dear Boys (aka The High Kings,) and listening to just a tad bit of Celtic Thunder. Shhh. . .don't tell anyone. Because today is absolutely perfect--and Irish on top of it? Sun-shiny, summery. . .not even spring--summer. Folk music in my ears, bare feet, a happy puppy sleeping in the shade, and lovely thoughts in every corner of my brain. Because Lucy Maud Montgomery would have been a bosom friend--she speaks what my soul wants to say. I swoon and die and act fluffy over her stories. Oh, and on top of it all, my mom and I went to our weekly bluegrass jam last night. . .that is, we went to watch a bunch of incredible musicians--it's been our favorite "redneck" hangout for a couple of years now. There is something so special about this place, set in a big old church, friendly and Southern. . .you know, I have a place in my heart just for elderly people? Not many people understand. . .but I have an overwhelming amount of love, thinking of the bent, wrinkled lady once beautiful, newly married perhaps, with a family of her own. . .or the grey haired gentleman playing the guitar--was he once a handsome cowboy? Yeah, sentimental moment. I think this is why my puppy Nick MUST be used in therapy. Which winds back to the bluegrass jam. These are good, old-school country folk, granddad's and grandma's, a sprinkling of younger people; congregated in one place, away from the hustle-bustle of suburbia, with one mission; making music. The music passed for generations through the roots of American culture. I love it.   
As I said in my facebook status the other day: I'm a small-town-city girl longing for the country. . .it's somewhere deep in my soul. One day I'll step outside to an open world--where next door neighbors and cut-through roads don't exist--replaced by barnyard smells, fresh air, cowboys, and banjo music.
It's been a good week. A piece of St. Paddy's day pie--hey, who said Italian's couldn't celebrate St. Paddy's day? and it'll get just that much better. Oh! And the Dubliner cheese I ate earlier. Mmm. This is living. 

Since this is a mixed-up random sort of post, enjoy the video {The Fields of Athenry, Brian Dunphy} my sister took back in March, 2011. This was our 2nd High Kings concert. Can't gush about these guys enough.

Honoring + obedience--they work together

There is a sanctuary in writing. Right now I am very excited about a Christian writers website that is in the works; for those of you who'd rather read my "Spiritual" take on life, you can go there--Lord willing some of my articles will be published. For now. . .everyone who voted "random ramblings" in the sidebar poll with have to deal with my deeper thoughts. ;)

Obedience. Honor. Submission. All these words have something in common, a connecting thread. We are taught from childhood to obey, honor, and yes, submit to our parents. But why do we do it? At times as a young adult I find myself struggling to simply obey--the little four letter word that often means turning against my now "adult" mind. It's not that I don't honor my parents. I live under my fathers roof, I pledge my heart to him. . .but wait. One can't honor without obedience. My dad is my God-given lord. He isn't called to overbear or rule with an iron fist. Through experience I know he requires basics that are followed by everyone in the household. Not very difficult; I follow the rules. . .Biblically the Lord commands me to yield. But there is so much more to the bigger picture--I don't obey because my father has forced me into submission, I don't even obey because I need too; I obey because I honor him.

In our modern culture, and even in Christian circles, young people, particularly young ladies, are thought "overly sheltered" if there are certain guidelines followed within the home. "What? You aren't allowed to date? You don't watch rated R movies? Not even most PG13 ones? Ok sure, you're dad taught you that way, but listen, it's time to come out of the box. . .you're nearly 21! Talk about a control freak father." Wrong.

Here's why:

1. My dad loves me with all his heart. I don't believe that simply because he says so. . .it's obvious in his treatment, his protection and care for my well-fare. Dad's been around the block a few times more--he's viewpoint isn't control, it's experience.

2. Notice the word "viewpoint" in the above sentence? My father doesn't force convictions on me. Keyword, conviction. There actually is a difference between "tradition" and "conviction," just sayin'. . .different topic. There is nothing more special to me than my dad's advice. Recently I went to him with something that was bothering me. His answer? "I would't do it, but I can't make that decision for you." He wouldn't do it. I see his testimony, I watch his lifestyle--it means the world to me. Why wouldn't I take his advice? There was no command, no force, but I chose to heed his council.

3. This "way of life" has become my own. As a child I did everything in the footsteps of my parents. Hey, they wanted me to, and I'd probably get spanked otherwise (which happened often, we are talking to a strong willed gal here!) Now, as I've matured in my walk, made it personal, swam through oceans of trials, I've seen that their way is HIS way. It actually, really works! Thankfully I never went through a serious "wandering" time. . .the Lord showed me these things gradually yet instantly as I grew. There is no room to doubt. When outsiders look in they see a 21 year old girl still living at home, LISTENING TO HER FATHER, heaven forbid, and doing weird, "old fashioned" things. Hate to break it to you, but this isn't the result of control. . .I want to live as I live. And gasp, I honor my upbringing.

With all this in mind, I do struggle. There are times when my will cries, "but dad, mom, I'm turning 21 in less then a month! A month, did you hear that?" Then God slams me in the face with the reality of His Word. It's rather chilling how He hand picks verses just when I need them. When I'm doubting. . .when "everyone else" assures me I'm wrong--that my parents are wrong. If you ask me these folks need to examine their hearts. Take the plank out of you're own eye!

Conviction and what it entails--the persecution is often evokes, seems to be a common topic here lately. Well. . .my heart has been so full because of recent trials, and when there are trials, what a better place to vent then one's blog? And in the process I want to encourage my readers. . I hope it's working! Guess what--no matter who you're father is, no matter how old you are, who you are--dad is always right. I love my dad with every ounce of my being, and I'm GOING to honor him! Remember, honor and obedience go hand in hand. It's worthless to honor without it's partner; "honor" and only "honor" is taking the cowards road, the--"well, I'm asked to do it. . .and I live here, so I do it"--road of self pity. Finding that contentment in Christ, and better yet, realizing that this obedience stuff actually has a point--will make that winding Walk straighter. Follow HIM!

He loves me, he loves me not. . .

I spent this weekend with two of my bestest friends: my mom and sis, Anna. Thinking back, I learned two very important things. . .

1. Coming in late at my grandparents house means breaded eggplant, fried peppers, and homemade sausage - to be eaten in the dark with fingers at 11:00 PM by three majorly slap-happy women.
2. Coffee and organic, DARK (super caffeinated dark,) chocolate taken together is dangerous. 

Both experiences = amazing fun, lots of obnoxious laughter, and sour stomachs. Just sayin'. 

But most importantly, I spent a refreshing weekend with like-minded girls and mothers from around the country, brought together by one source: a Radiant Purity conference (Sarah Mally. Note that I do not necessarily endorse all her teachings.) Though I was already familiar with all the ideas/thought process/material presented, I came away with a full heart, encouraged . . .knowing that WHO I am in the Lord, WHAT I am in the Lord, matters to HIM, matters to my future (unknown) "Prince". . .and that I need not fear what the world thinks of me. 

Before I continue, this question has been circulating through my mind: why are people with standards so harshly judged? Why are people who believe in courtship dubbed "Josh Harris followers"?  Why are ladies who wear skirts for modesty and femininity reasons called "legalistic"?  Yes we have freedom in Christ, yes everyone has different views/opinions on Christianity, but please, please don't mock those who choose to be "different", or "peculiar" according to the worlds ideals. I am not "more holy" or a better Christian because I dress differently or choose to "wait" for the right man. However it hurts - more - when a fellow believer mocks. . .when they are closed minded. 

This article is taking a slightly different path then I planned. ;) When it comes to "my skirts", I like to tell inquirers that while I could go through the whole "modesty spiel", (or at least my interpretation of modesty,) my primary reason is simply one, very obvious, very valid fact: I feel beautiful. 

The worldview of most Christian women is one of supreme respect for our male heads; our leaders. The thought of someday sitting under the man God has crafted, selected just for me is thrilling. And why do we appreciate men? For their masculinity. .. this is what makes a man a MAN, this is what attracts us to them. Skirts are feminine, they flow, swirl, swish. . .instantly transform me into a princess - a GIRL. A woman who wants to stand out. I want to be radical, different, a light in our world. 

Most folks assume that words such as "waiting," "purity," and "courtship" surround a small  percentage of girls who aren't allowed to associate with men - even speak with them. . .the type that run for the nearest corner if a young man looks in their direction. "Oooh . . .he MUST be interested in me. What do I do? Daaadddd???" 

WRONG. Personally, I'd rather be friends with guys then girls. Honestly and truly. Guys balance things out. . .they add a fun, manly dimension to a group setting. . .and they aren't catty. There's no peer pressure. They accept me (usually) for who I am - no jealously, no conditions. And they are no more then FRIENDS. If anything, being friends with guys has taught me NOT to jump at every man as "a potential".  When talking and even English Country dancing  in a mixed group setting, I am able to assess character. . .work on that "check list" of no-no's and absolutes. Not that I'm pouring out my deepest secrets to guys! o.O Of course not. . . but I think there is a level of respect in a friendship when a girl isn't desperate, treating each male friend as a human being. . .a brother, a friend. Nothing more. Never assuming anything.

What is my point in all this? I don't know. Really, it HAD one, before I began writing. ;) Now its full of rambling, non-related topics. My thoughts poured out for your sorting. 

Conviction. It truly sums this mess together. We all have different stands. . .different concepts our Jesus placed especially on our hearts. As a testimonial this weekend reminded, ignoring a conviction deadens us to sin. Never ignore that still, small voice pulling at your heart. And listen, listen for His call to you. "Waiting" is such a beautiful thing. . .sharing so many "firsts" with that special someone. We can be friends with guys within limits - but girls, don't become desperate. The Lord will bring you your Prince in His time. Not "God's best" but "God's Choice."

There is a difference. 

"He loves me, he loves me not." Christ loves you, He is our all in all. Lets focus on HIM, stop judging each other. Lets celebrate being WOMEN and MEN of God. 

For the LORD God is a sun and shield: the LORD will give grace and glory: no good thing will he withhold from them that walk uprightly. - Psalms 84:11

Please note that skirt-wearing is simply my personal preference. I see them as more modest then pants, however, if pants are modest for YOU, and if your dad agrees, I do not judge you! (and yes, they can be feminine. :) ) I do not want to sound like "I have the answers", or holier-then-thou. Again, just my view of things.

Tomorrow is new. . .thoughts while walkin' the Narrow Way

Before I begin my rant, I have to point out that this was hastily written a few days ago . . ."life" is brighter now, and I feel much closer to the Lord then I did. However my thoughts were spilled. . .and I'd like to share them with you. Note that while this post may seem focused on marriage,  it is really about everyday trials; the marriage part was a bit impulsive - something I've been pondering.

Ah, Anne Shirely. I love the movies, though I've never been "obsessed" with them, and I never truly liked Gilbert  However the books. . .the BOOKS!  The original title is a bit boring, but Anne of Avonlea, Anne of the Island (currently reading!) just sweep me off my feet, take me to places far beyond even my overly-active scope of imagination. The pictures L.M. Montgomery paints through her words are so dreamy. I can hear, feel, smell, see all the colors, the people, Miss Lavenders cottage, Royal Gardner. (only an Anne-fanatic would understand that one. ;) ) Her stories speak to my soul. They are so rich. But now, on to the post.

Life is hard. But not impossible to live through. Life is good. But not always kind. Most often, life feels plain mean - yet we can't let it beat us. "That the trial of your faith, being much more precious than of gold that perisheth, though it be tried with fire, might be found unto praise and honour and glory at the appearing of Jesus Chrsit." 1 Pet 1:17

Right now, this very moment, I feel severely tried. Nothing monumental, just every day cares that constantly nag. When will I get myself together? When will I stop loving my flesh, submitting to my own will? Then there are doubting thoughts . . .Lord, when am I going to get married? I'm waiting - not so very patiently - why is this desire suddenly hitting me like a ton of bricks? I love my single life, I love my family . . .but somehow weddings have an adverse effect on me; I was at one yesterday. No, I am most definitely NOT desperate. There is nothing more unattractive to me then young ladies who talk of nothing, think of nothing, dwell on nothing, but marriage and love. So much adventure lies in the single life - so much growing, learning, excelling. Yet that urge sometimes pulls my brain - despite my stand for contentedness. His plans are perfect. I just have to trust Him and remember: ". . .that the trying of your faith worketh patience." James 1:3 B

Here I sit. Sometimes nothing will help my heart but spilling it all over a piece of paper, forever imprint it on a blank Word document. Many times I have vented, squirmed, cried out, begged for His Mercy - all through my typing fingers. Sometimes verbal words aren't enough. At least for me. This is one of those moments that I feel the need to share, share with you, let YOU know that you aren't alone . . .every Christian struggles, falls, gets back up again. "What things soever ye desire, when ye pray, believe that ye receive them, and ye shall have them." Mark 11:24 This isn't a fancy post . . .it isn't even a post at all. Its just a scramble of thoughts jumbled up in a "mock" blog entry. Hey, you read it, or you don't. You may even stop following my blog. But I'm going to ramble. It feels so good! "Teach me they way, O Lord, and lead me in a plain path." Psa 27:11

As Anne Shirley said: "Tomorrow is new. . . with no mistakes in it." Sin. We all do it. When I reach the Pearly Gates I'd like no better then to take Adam and Eve by the scruff of their necks and shout, "You TWO! WHAT have you done? Don't you see-don't you know what misery you've brought upon the world? All because of a stupid piece of fruit! *We* had to suffer, because of YOU." 

So what is the lesson in all this? Christ has the answer - He knows *everything* held within the murky jaws of the future. I am *not* in control. The little things in life really don't matter. When I step back, take a deep breath, and delve into my Bible, life really doesn't seem that unconquerable. Its just taking the step to actually read - to trust.  

Day by day, and with each passing moment,

Strength I find to meet my trials here;

Trusting in my Father's wise bestowment, 

I've no cause for worry or for fear.

He, whose heart is kind beyond all measure,

Gives unto each day what He deems best,

Lovingly its part of pain and pleasure,

Mingling toil with peace and rest.

This is NOT a fluffy post, at least not the second half. Ok, maybe it is, just a tad. But hey, I tried! ;) I was starting to worry that TLRoS was "overly girly." Of course, I'm very girly, so the theme makes sense, yet I want my posts to show a bit more depth. Outside of all the silliness, I am very deep. That said:
 . . . Onward Christian Soldiers!! 

How to keep from having a broken heart

"To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal.  

Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket- safe, dark, motionless, airless--it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable."

~ C.S. Lewis

more notes from my week...aka, updates on my life*~

a similar post i wrote last week seemed pretty popular.

soooo. i thought i'd give it another try.

• successfully stayed off facebook for over 2 weeks. check.
• planning on continuing my fb fast for at least the rest of the month. check.
• read 'johnny tremain'. check.
• gives it a top rating and counts it among my favoritest books. double check.
• aspires to write as vividly and colorfully as the author. double check.
• is considering writing a review on it one of these days. check.
• has been prayerfully looking for a "new" piano. check. 
• found a lovely like-new spinet for a reasonable price that i'm very interested in buying. double check. 
• would really appreciate if others also pray that doors would open in this area. double check. 
• is still working on my regency gown. check. 
• will hopefully be completing it within the next couple of days. check. 
• heard a very good friend's voice for the first time. check.
• throughly enjoyed my phone-chat with her. double check. 
• :insert smile:
• watched the 1978 version of 'les miserables' twice. check. 
• was pleasantly surprised that my les miz-enthusiastic-less dad liked the movie. check.
• :insert halo:
• loved it myself and very much recommends it. double check. 
• has found that a certain fondness for a certain character of my imagination has grown. check. 
• :insert wink:
• has officially decided that geekiness in the writing world is fun. check.
• :insert wink:
• can't wait to start nanowrimo this monday so anna and i can start working on our novel.  check.
• wondering if i can actually make it through the entire month-long program this year. partial check.
• went apple picking. check.
• enjoys this tradition immensely. check. 
• spent an afternoon sitting on a boat dock while gazing dreamily at a scrumptious lake. check. 
• wishes there were no such thing as capital letters. check. 
• won the soap giveaway I blogged about here. check.
• will be putting up a post regarding my incredible soap soonishly. double check. 
• needs to skedaddle. regency gown calling! check.