Football Season is in Full Swing...

...the pre-game huddle...

 ...the tackles...

 ...the scrambling for position in the pocket...

 ...the launch of the pass...

 ...the heaving lungs and sweaty uniforms...

 ...the red-zone stops...

 ...the smack of the ball meeting receivers' gloves...

 ...and of course...

...the touchdowns.

I am LOVING football season!

Just don't talk to me about the longhorns, okay?

I SAID DON'T TALK ABOUT IT.

Simplify

I want my life to be simple.  Just, simple.

The end.

Emile

Ready for a heart-wrenching series of photos?

They're so cute, that when they were uploading on the computer I almost died.

This is Emile; part adorable cuddly little angel, part troublemaker extraordinaire.

I'm just showing you the cuddly angel side though.  That's mostly how I remember him anyway, especially since on the last day he cupped my face in his hands and asked if I wanted to stay and come live with him.  He said my bedroom could be where the living room was now.

You try telling those big, brown, five-year-old eyes that you're about to get on a bus and leave and not come back for a year.  I sure couldn't.  I just hugged him and said "Sure!" and then gave him candy and a snowcone.  Once the sugar buzz set in, he forgot all about it.

Oh, and the nickels he's holding?

His offering.

Am I the only one thinking about Luke 21:1-4?

"As he looked up, Jesus saw the rich putting their gifts into the temple treasury.  He also saw a poor widow [or small, inner city boy] put in two very small copper coins.  'I tell you the truth,' he said, 'This poor widow [or small, inner city boy] put in more than all the others.  All these people gave their gifts out of their wealth; but she [or he] out of her poverty put in all she [or he] had to live on.'"

Wow!  I'm not saying that those few cents were all he had to live on, but still.  It was a beautiful - and convicting! - picture of what true giving should look like.

"And he said, 'I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.'"

Matthew 18:3

Building Me

I've been all over lately, but I'm back home now.  No more excuses for not writing!  Mainly what's been going on with me is my youth group's annual New Orleans mission trip.  This was my second year - I'm a veteran now :) - and while I thought that there was no way God and those kids would be able to impact me as much this time around as they did last summer, they did.  I never ceased to be amazed at how easy it is to "find" God when we're looking for Him.  Rather than try and tell you about it, I'm just going to share photos.  It'll probably take a few posts, but oh well.  I've been short on those anyhow.

Don't you just love them?

Believe me, they're not always easy to love.  But then, next time you're in Nola, stop and take a good look around.  Easy to love often translates to weak in their everyday life.  They are hard, and tough.  But they're still kiddos.  And by the end of the week, they have your heart.

What do I love most about them?

God uses them every year to grow me up a little bit more.  In a good way.

That's what I love most about them.

But them doing my hair for me every day comes as a close second.

She's Ba-aaack

And by "she" I mean "me".

I have been gallivanting about in the land of Aspen, Colorado with my family.  I have hundreds of pictures that I could post for you, but unfortunately they are on my computer.  Which is packed.  In a box.  In a pod.  In the driveway of the house that was mine but as of today is not.  Bah.

So you'll just have to wait and see them later.

Right now, I'm camped out at my friend Emily's house.  You may remember seeing her gorgeous bluebonnet photos from a past post.  She's letting me bum housing off of her since I don't have anywhere to go at the moment.  My old house is empty, and my family doesn't close on the new house until Friday.  I'm between homes.

Emily's room is a lovely mishmash of colors.  I'm staring at a bright purple wall as I speak.  Two bottles of blue and neon orange nail polish are sitting in front of the keyboard, and I just stole a piece of gum out of the Juicy Fruit tin on the shelf above.

But I'm not going to tell her that until later.

Her bulletin board is covered in pictures of friends and Taylor Lautner.  He freaks me out.  He does not freak Emily out.  Thus we have momentary conflict upon each entrance to her bedroom.

The lady of the hour is currently laying on her bed listening to her new choir music.  She's a choir nerd.  It's totally okay for me to say that, too, because she dubbed herself that before I did.  Her curly hair is sproinging out all over the place  around her hair because we are both working at our church's VBS this week.  Lots of little kids and humidity do bad things to your hair.

Her mom just informed me that Emily is allergic to cats and puffs up like a cheeto when she's around them.

If I ever get video of that, I'll post it here for the enjoyment of the very few people who read this blog. :)

I think I'm going to go get some more gum now and find a magazine to read.  Bye now.

Storms

Right now our house, which normally gives us a splendid view of downtown Austin and the sprawling Texas hill country, is shrouded in thick, grey clouds.  Wind is whipping around, shaking our trees and smashing sheets of hard, wet rain against our windows.  The thunder is a constant, low grumbling; occasionally a massive crash will send me running for my mama and causes the hair on my arms and neck to stand on end.  The flashes of lightening are bright and menacing in the dark, purpleish sky.

I have a love/hate relationship with storms.

On one hand, there is nothing better than a good dose of rain and thunder to make you feel like snuggling.  In fact, right now I've created a little nest in my bed with a journal (to craft this blog post), The Negotiator by Dee Henderson; Calm, Cool, and Adjusted by Kristin Billerbeck; the Pioneer Woman (LOVE.  I am waking up early tomorrow morning to make her French Breakfast Puffs.  Besides being chock-full of other delicious recipes, the whole entire book is just so dadgum cute!  I'm slightly obsessed with her at the moment.  Just a little bit.); So Long, Insecurity by Beth Moore (Need I say Moore?  Get it?!  Do you get it?!); and a flashlight in case...

the lights go out! (Insert scary music here.)

Because there's always The Other Hand.  Storms also make me a tad nervous.  Never lacking in the imagination department, I tend to conjure up images of Storm Chaser reruns and end up staring anxiously out of the window, biting my nails and pestering my family with questions such as,

"Should we unplug the computer?"
"How about the TV?"
"Can you even unplug our TV?"
"Do you think it's safe for us to be so close to those windows?"

Then I usually try and remember if we're supposed to go into our bathtub or hall closet in case of tornado.  By the time I've figured out the quickest route to both locations, though, my dear family shuts me down.  They make sure I don't do this for longer than ten minutes or so, and my mom (who is NOT afraid of storms, having grown up in the Houston area where tropical storms are common) tells me to relax.

So I do.  I return to my first hand - the love portion of my relationship with storms - and snatch up the nearest book, relishing the safety of my home.

Whatever weather you may be facing right now - whether sunshine or a tornado - take it from my mom and "do not be anxious about anything"!  Enjoy life and look on the bright side of every situation.

Unless, of course, you really are in a tornado.

In which case, you should run for the nearest bathtub.

Or was that hall closet?

Oh, dear...

Role Models 3

Another fabulous role model of mine is a lady who I call Ms. Terre.  Ms. Terre is the wife of our crazy missions and recreation pastor (also my former middle school leader), and she is just one of those people.


You know what I mean.


One of those people that just instantly put you at ease, who you know innately understands what you're going through, who really means it when she asks how you're doing.


Every time I see her, I scamper over for an enormous hug; she asks me how school's going, how friends are doing, how family's doing, how I'm doing.  And no matter what - whether I said that everything is peachy keen or that my life is falling apart - she tells me that she'll be praying for me.


The best part?


I know she really does!  On tough days God often lets me run into her, and I'm so thankful that she is in my life.  Without her, I would be stressed out, knee-deep in snickers bars, and definitely not as close to God.  She is a great example to me!  I love you Ms. Terre!

Wish

This is where I bare my soul.

When people ask the question, "What would you do with a million dollars, Ryley?" I inevitably think of thousands of ways I could use the money to help people. Take care of a hard-working but poor family's major financial needs; build a hospital in Guate and send excellent physicians and nurses to work in it; feed hungry children; send out missionaries; cover all the grocery bills for a single mom; on and on and on! A million dollars! It could help so many people, it boggles my mind!

But there's always a little part of me, the selfish little goblin part, that thinks things like,

A million dollars?

That's a lot of shoes.

Or

Front-row, 50-yard-line season tickets to UT football games? Yes please.

But most of all, I have always, always, always...

...wanted an iced tea pool.

Let me clarify here:

I love iced tea. It's my favorite drink. Black tea, unsweet, lots of ice, lemon slice, two sweet 'n lows. Can I get an amen?

I also love swimming.

I attribute both of these things largely to the fact that I live in Austin, Texas, and it's really hot here. Really, really hot. So a while back, I got to thinking.

If iced tea and swimming are the most refreshing parts of my central Texas summers, then wouldn't it be efficient - and fun - to combine the two? Double the refreshment, people, double the refreshment.

When I proposed this idea to my family, however, they replied,

"Sick."

I explained that I would shower completely before jumping in, so I wasn't drinking foot nasty and armpit gunk. Once I was completely sanitary, I would dive in to my pool and swim and play and enjoy all the activities I would in a normal, boring old pool. The difference is that when I'm, say, perfecting my cannonball and think,

"My, I'm feeling a bit thirsty!"

I can savor a long, cool drink of tea without ever breaking concentration or wasting energy that could be used to propel myself from the diving board. While I'm lounging on a pool float and want a beverage to go with my R&R, there's no need to go inside and waste precious time - I'll just lean over and suck up some tea! Sheer brilliance! Just imagine the hours of satisfying merriment!

Sadly, I feel certain that this dream will most likely go unfulfilled even if I do stumble across a vault filled with a million dollars, since my original, people-helping ideas probably line up with God's more than a swimming pool filled with my favorite drink.

But if I stumble across more than one vault?

Tea pool for Ryley.

Anticipation

Productivity
pro·duc·tiv·i·ty (prō'dŭk-tĭv'ĭ-tē, prŏd'ək-):
-n.
1. The quality of being productive.

Productive
pro·duc·tive [pruh-duhk-tiv]:
–adjective
1. Having the power of producing; generative; creative: a productive effort.

Energize
en·er·gize [en-er-jahyz], verb,-gized, -giz·ing:
-verb (used with object)
1. To give energy to; rouse into activity

–verb (used without object)
2. To be in operation; put forth energy.


Purpose
pur·pose (pûr'pəs):
n.
1. The object toward which one strives or for which something exists; an aim or a goal
2. A result or effect that is intended or desired; an intention.
3. Determination; resolution

Purposeful
pur·pose·ful [pur-puhs-fuhl]:
–adjective
1. Having a purpose.
2. Determined; resolute.
3. Full of meaning; significant.

Ever wake up wanting to sieze the day, have adventures, cross everything off your checklists, take the world by storm, change a life, and live abundantly? Today, I woke up feeling like that. The first thing I did this morning was go through the world clock on my cell phone and see what time it was in every imaginable place, just to tickle my imagination. I tried to guess what the people in each place were up to; I always assumed they were busy, purposeful, and taking opportunities readily. Then I realized that it was gorgeous outside, and bang!

Bit by the antsy bug.

So I'll do my best to let you know later on just how I channel all of this ambition today. Hope everyone has a happy thursday!

Flower Pots

We're getting ready to sell our house.



We've been beautifying it so that people will love it!



A few days ago our realtor dropped off some flower pots that are a gorgeous shade of turquoise.



I liked them so much that I decided to take pictures of them, along with some of the other plants, including the summerlong basil I'm attempting to grow from seed right now. Wish me luck!



Happy Mama's Day to all.

Happy Mother's Day! (Role Models 2)

I don't know how to even begin telling you how wonderful my mom is. I could go on for days. I'll try and touch on some of my favorite things about her.

My mom puts her family and home before everything else except God. She takes time for all of us, and knows me like the back of her hand. Our house is clean, comfortable, and inviting. We have food in our pantry and fridge. She welcomes in friends and family readily; hospitality is one of her many gifts, in my opinion. Most of all, our house is full of love.

"Her children arise and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her." Proverbs 31:28

Moms probably have one of the hardest and most thankless jobs out there, but my mom hardly ever complains. She says she loves what she does, and wouldn't trade being with her kids for any job in the world. I love her for being taxi driver, chef, accountant, housekeeper, counselor, doctor, teacher, organizer, toy-picker-upper, lunch maker, homework signer, laundry-doer, etc that she is. Without her, the rest of us would curl up in the fetal position and eat hot pockets until we suffocated in dirty socks.

"She watches over the affairs of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness." Proverbs 31:27

My mom is beautiful. She really is. Everyone says it about their mothers, because they have to. I, however, truly have one of the most beautiful women on the planet for a mom. She has wavy hair and blue eyes, her make up is always flawless and sophisticated, and she has the BEST clothes. She looks like she's walked off the pages of a catalogue or magazine. Best of all, she is comfortable in her own skin.

"...she is clothed in fine linen and purple." Proverbs 31:22b

Mom is an avid bookworm. She's always reading something. She loves eighties and big band music, but also enjoys some Owl City, Switchfoot, and Train here and there. :) I found her eating lemon icebox pie for breakfast a few weeks ago. The expression on her face when I caught her - fork halfway in mouth, crumbs on her chin, eyes wide - was priceless. When she laughs, she throws her head back and squishes up her eyes and laughs with her mouth wide open. I have yet to see her keep any plant alive for longer than a week and a half. She's a neatnik. She hates - I mean, hates - camping of any kind. Disney Channel marathon? Mom is up for it. A Sonic Diet Dr. Pepper with Vanilla is her drink of choice, and she has a great Texas accent. My mom is fantastically unique.

"She is worth far more than rubies." Proverbs 31:10b

Best of all, my mom is a true woman of God. She stands unbelievably strong in the face of adversities that would cause most women to break down or run for the nearest exit. She always has a word of practical advice for me and my friends. She is wise, caring, and loving. We get along like peanut butter and jelly, and I can only hope that I will turn out to be at least a little like her!

"She speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction is on her tongue." Proverbs 31:26

Happy Mother's Day, Mom. I love you bunches and bunches.

"Many women do noble things, but you surpass them all. Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised." Proverbs 31:29-30

Little Things

The little things in life make a big difference in my day.

Yummy waffles courtesy of Aunt Jemima? Good day.

Unexpected quiz in chemistry? Not so much.

Buying basil seeds at Lowes? Joy in a little bitty package.

Straight hair that refuses to do anything except fly-away? Utter frustration. That follows you wherever you go.

It's interesting to log, even for a small amount of time, how much the tiny things impact your overall day. It really helps to put things in perspective.

Role Models 1

I'm going to do a series of posts on the fantastic women in my life that serve as role models for me. The topic has been on my mind for a while and I figured, why not? Before I get started, I want to note that I am not doing posts on these women based on their importance to and/or influence on me. That is, I'm not ranking them by best role model, next best, and the next best after that, etc. Each plays a unique part in my life, so I'm just writing about them randomly! Here we go...

My youth pastor's wife, Liz, is one of my favorite people. I don't see her all that often, but every time I spend time with her or even just have a brief conversation with her I come away feeling a little more content, a little more patient, and a little wiser! I think the thing I love most about her is that she absolutely feels called to be a wife and mom first. Her ultimate passion is to create a loving, safe, and comfortable home for her husband and kids. And from what I can tell, she enjoys it! Their house is always so, well, homey; her kids are happy and obviously love her. She clearly displays the fruit of the spirit as a wife, and I want to follow her example in that area later on in life. (Plus, that just rhymed. So... epic win.) Don't get the idea that she's June Cleaver here, though. Liz lets all of us bizarre teenagers into her house to watch movies, eat cookie dough, sling sprinkles around her kitchen, and just hang out. Jeremy (my youth pastor) jokes that her love language is trash talking, and she has a great sense of humor. She's a strong woman.

Liz always has a listening ear for the girls in the youth group. There have been multiple occasions on which I've turned to her for good advice, and she hasn't failed me yet! In fact, just yesterday I emailed her about a tough situation I'm facing at school and she responded, as usual, with a loving, firm and practical suggestion. It means more than she'll probably ever know that she's there for me!

Conversations Like Currents

I had a revelation yesterday that I hope you'll enjoy.

Recently, a close friend of mine went through a hard time - her dad died unexpectedly of a heart attack. My heart went out to her; I can't even imagine the pain she must have felt and must still feel. However, it has been over a week now since his death and she is doing much better, so a group of girls from church including myself went to her apartment to visit and take her lots of junk food.

We arrived at her abode and bestowed our gifts - pizzas, chocolate chip cookies, candy, cake, and cheetos - before settling in to talk for a while. Her family was in the kitchen next to us; because she is African-American, her family was speaking mostly the-language-you-speak-in-Ethiopia-that-I-do-not-know-the-name-of-though-find-fascinating-and-very-cool.

At any rate, I paused for a few minutes and sat on the couch and just listened to all the different conversations going on around me. Conversations weaving over heads and around people, conversations between two people huddled together, conversations in a foreign language, loud conversations, quiet conversations. It sounded all together like rain falling on a roof; so many different sounds, sizes, and shapes of speech all falling from lips at the same time.

That's when I realized that conversations are like the ocean currents in Finding Nemo.

Remember? For Dory and Marlin to get to P. Sherman Wallabe Way Sydney, they had to ride that current with all the sea turtles. The only way for the to get on the current was to break through the barrier and just jump right in, being whisked away in the rushing water. And in order to get out, they had to do the same thing all over again.

Conversations are like that, aren't they? Sitting on the couch at my friend's apartment, I could hear many different conversations going on at once. I had to choose which one to participate in and break into it, jumping with both feet. Once I was a part of that conversation, I couldn't be a part of the others. The only way to join any of those was to break out of the one I was in and then bust into the next.

Does that make sense?

Oh, well.

I thought it was interesting.

Come

Effortless

More Bluebonnets

Took some more pictures today - this time of my sweet friend Kat and her brother Chris.

Bluebonnets

Today, I took bluebonnet pictures for my friend Emily. She was a fantastic model, and the flowers were gorgeous! I had so much fun.

Glow

Today I woke up, ate breakfast, puttered around on the computer, dug through our bookshelves, decided to re-read an old Nancy Drew book, got 3/4 of the way finished with it, set it down, looked for something interesting to do, finished a magazine of my mom's, moaned that I was bored, sat and continued moaning for at least another hour, took pictures for my mom of furniture that we're fixing to sell, got lectured by my mom for aforementioned moaning, and then went and laid down on our upstairs couch.

I felt drained. And dim. And empty.

Bored? Yes, I was that. But I could have found something to do. I thought for a while about what was really bothering me. Then, it hit me.

I didn't do my devotional time this morning.

During D-Now this year (see previous posts) we talked about the basic disciplines of Christianity. One of them was "quiet time." I know, it sounds juvenile, and I've been told to have one daily at least a bajillion and three times by my sunday school teachers, youth leaders, etc. And for the record, I do a fair job of keeping up with mine.

But I hadn't really been doing them every day, and I hadn't been excited about them. I was just taking part because I was supposed to. So I decided that I would start doing them in the morning again, for just 7 minutes.

And I realized that the reason I've been told to do these devotional times a bajillion and three times is because they are so important. They are a time of peace before the frenzy of the day begins, before frustration sets in, before problems start. And they bring me joy! I like them.

Yesterday, I overslept and skipped.

Then, today, I forgot again.

No wonder I felt like I was running on empty. Because, technically, I was.

I dove into one of my favorite passages of the Bible right away - Psalm 42 - and felt refreshed right away. Because God is awesome like that. He instantly energizes me.

Suddenly, I didn't feel so drained anymore.

I can't wait for tomorrow morning. I am not missing out again!

Indeed It Is

Tonight, I have lots of random thoughts spinning through my head with no end, no organization. I would write them down, but I know that the resulting post wouldn't be legible, cohesive, or interesting.

So I'm saving the posting for later.

When I'm not so tired.

And it doesn't feel like my brain has been replaced with cotton, bees, and spaghetti.

The Stuff of Legends

Was it amazing or what?

The Duke - Butler NCAA championship face-off will go down in history as one of the single best basketball games ever played. It was the best of the sport: the excitement, the skill, the heart, the will, the effort, the unity, the fight to the finish, the race to beat the clock. The biggest point difference between the teams the entire game was six points.

For those of you who don't keep up with basketball, let me fill you in:

Duke University is a basketball powerhouse with three (now four) national championship wins on their record. The team is coached by the one and only Coach Krzyzewski (more commonly known as Coach K, for obvious reasons), the best of the best and a legend in his own right. No one, however, expected this Duke team to go as far as they did, declaring them weak in comparison to past Blue Devil teams.

Butler University is a mid-major, 4200 student school in Indianapolis, home of the 2010 NCAA Championships. The team is led by coach Brad Stevens, who looks younger than most of the players themselves - a seemingly misfit group of athletes who make up a shockingly united, skillful, and talented unit. Most people didn't have the team going past the second round of the Big Dance. But oh, were they wrong.

We sat back and watched first with amusement, then wonder, then awe-filled respect as Butler knocked off every team in their path, including number one Syracuse and number two Kansas State. Butler had come to prove a point, and their message came through loud and clear:

We belong here.

I anticipated this game with such excitement, I could barely stand it.

Apparently, so did millions of other people.

It was a battle - of skills, speed, stamina, and a whole lotta heart. It came down to the final seconds. Butler was down by a single point with 30 seconds to go, so they placed the ball in the more than competent hands of their best player: Gordon Hayward. He drove to the lane and put up a fade-away that was just slightly too long. Duke came up with the rebound, and Butler had no choice but to intentionally foul. Brian Zoubek nailed the first free throw, but was instructed to intentionally miss the second. With 3.6 seconds on the clock, Hayward snatched the rebound, tore down the floor, flew past a teammate who set a brilliant screen (yes, seriously) and put up a shot from just over half court.

My heart soared with the ball. I thought, this is in. It has to be! It flew with stunning accuracy, smashed into the back board, hit the rim...

... and rolled off onto the floor.

Duke wins.

And let me tell you, I was so sad. I wanted Butler to win worse than anything. But my congratulations to Duke, who played a great game. And I loved Coach K's statement from the platform in regards to his Blue Devils ("their" refers to his own team):

"And as good as the Butler story is and was ... their story is pretty good too."

My utmost respect for Duke's performance in the Big Dance. This game was ... historical.

I am, however, looking forward with great anticipation to the return of the mighty Bulldogs and Gordon Hayward next season. More than you know.

Because who doesn't love a good underdog story?

Penny for Your Thoughts

In my chemistry class we did a mini-lab on surface tension. We placed a penny on the table and used a pipette to place drops of water on it until the bead that formed finally broke.

I still don't remember why it did that... had something to do with electronegativity and hydrogen bonds, but as far as specifics go, your guess is as good as mine.

At any rate, I liked the lab so much that when I got home from small groups tonight I pulled out my camera and repeated it. I got some pretty neat shots, too.

I wonder if I could get class credit for this?

Hungry Girl?

I got home this morning from a friend's house, opened the pantry door, and announced,

"There's nothing to eat in here!"

As soon as the words left my mouth, images of hungry kids in Guatemala popped into my head involuntarily. I mentally corrected myself, feeling sheepish,

"There's nothing to eat in here that's instant and delicious."

Bah.

I dug around our freezer and found some chicken nuggets. After popping them in the oven, I put noodles on the stove to boil and dug around the bottom shelf of our pantry for a can of green beans.

Twenty minutes later I grabbed the ketchup, flopped down on the couch, and turned on ESPN. My aforementioned friend banned me from any form of sports television because (insert whiny voice here) "it's my birthday!" I did, however, manage to check my brackets via phone; she protested that, as well, saying that I was addicted, but I semi-politely informed her that, no, the general population of America follows March Madness just as closely as I do if not closer, and that she was in the minority, and that she was also a BIRTHDAYZILLA.

At any rate, I had a lot of catching up to do. I balanced my plate of yumminess on my knees, salted the green beans and dug in. As the baseball stats were being reported, I chewed thoughtfully and tried to pinpoint the feeling that was lingering in my stomach.

I thought long and hard before it hit me.

Satisfaction.

Could it be that I enjoyed, savored, and was more grateful for my meal more than usual because I put... effort into it?



..........



Nah.

On a completely different note, our family is doing much better now; we're doing great, in fact. There are several options for Lily that we hadn't even considered before, and there have been some new doors open. God is good! Lily was back to her normal schedule on Wednesday, everyone is relaxed again.

Tears

"I'm on a diet of tears - tears for breakfast, tears for supper. All day long people knock at my door, pestering, 'Where is this God of yours?'"
Psalm 42:1

Life isn't always smooth sailing.

Life isn't always great, even for me.

Sometimes, life pretty much stinks.

Yesterday was one of those times.

Our family has really been praying hard for Lily to go to a specific special needs school in Austin that concentrates on speech therapy. We had explored options and decided that this was the place for her at this point. A three day test-run (so to speak) was scheduled, and yesterday - day two - the powers that be told us that while they loved Lily and had fallen in love with her, they had not accepted her into the school.

It was a serious blow.

It was a day full of tears for our family. We were truly crushed; extremely disappointed.

My youth pastor talked this past Sunday about how the Word of God is a lamp to our feet - it's not going to show us the whole path, but it will show us the next step.

I turned to Psalms right away, because I so relate to David's raw honesty. He cries out to God often, asking Him where He's gone, and why He's done certain things. I could relate to that. I felt like God had let me down when it counted!

So what's the next step?

Every time David cries out and rages, no matter how angry or sad he is, he makes sure to end by saying, "I still love you, God. You are still great." He ends by praising Him. Praise is the next step.

Well, I don't really feel like doing that right now, God.

But I did. I dragged back out the prayer notebook I had just put away, filled with questions and bitterness, and started writing again. I told God why I still loved Him, why I would still trust Him, why I was still believing Him.

And you know what?

It helped.

I just started praying through the Psalms. It was comforting. When I woke up in a funk, I grabbed my Bible and flipped to them again. It was my lifeline.

And you know what?

I'm okay.

I really am. We're all going to be okay.

Tears don't last forever, but God's promises and sovereignty do. And I am forever and a day thankful for that.

Updated To Do List

1. Completely finish decorating room.

2. Get license already. I only have one section left in my workbook now. Ha!

3. Go to the doctor about nasty feet. I told my mom that my toe still wasn't better. She looked at it and declared it a job for a doctor. Yuck. I am gross.

4. Get a haircut.

5. Make a necklace yourself. I adore the necklaces like J Crew carries, but as a babysitter who hopes to own a car by this fall - and who has stopped hoping that a magical jewelry fairy will visit her and bestow gifts - I decided that I should channel my creative juices and try making one myself.

6. Blah dee blah dee blah.

I just felt as though I needed to put a sixth item, even though I don't truly have anything to put there. So I wrote nonsense. And hoped you wouldn't notice.

How shneaky am I?

March Madness Indeed

Every year during March Madness my entire family forms an online bracket group, fills out their brackets, and then competes for a dinner of their choice. I felt really good about my picks this year, as all of the match-ups seemed fairly obvious.

Let me tell you, I am sick of hearing announcers exclaim,

"__________ has won for the first time in school history/since 1932/since Abe Lincoln was president!"

I'm currently tied for fourth with my aunt and cousin.

However, I'm 99% positive I've picked the correct champion and final four teams. Everyone ahead of me seems to have picked unlikely upsets to win it all.

All in all, the best part is definitely the dinner at the end of the tournament. The family heads out to the winner's restaurant of choice and spends the night talking, laughing, celebrating, and making the occasional excuse for losing the bracket challenge. It reminds me that having fun... runs in my family.

But I still want to win.

Pedernales Falls

Today was just pure bliss! I'm going to start at the very beginning - last night.

Reagan and I were invited to spend the night at the house of some wonderful, long-time friends: Kaylinn and Madison. I arrived just in time to snag the last piece of pizza. We set up their tent in the backyard with blankets and pillows and sleeping bags and whatever other padding we had handy, then went up to her room to catch up. Afterwards we watched Ice Princess (stop laughing) on Disney channel with her grandmother. Then we headed out to the tent under a vast canopy of stars, yawning and rubbing our tired eyes. It was cold, and the breeze nipped at my arms; I was more than happy to climb into my blanket nest and catch some Z's... but not before staying up another hour laughing.

This morning I woke up at eight to birds singing and soft, white morning light penetrating the tent walls. I just laid there and enjoyed it. Mrs. "S" brought cinnamon tea out into the tent, and I sat up against my pillows, hair tossed into a bedraggled ponytail, and snapped some pictures of everyone wrapped in blankets and beautiful light, sipping away. I think that was my favorite part of the whole day, because it was so peaceful and quiet. We would have stayed there for hours more, I think, if we hadn't known that there was warm cinnamon rolls inside.

Over breakfast, it was decided that we would go to Pedernales Falls State Park. We drove to the park crammed into the suburban like sardines. Once we arrived, water bottles were handed out, jackets were shuffled around, and shoelaces were tied before we began hiking down to the water.

Pedernales is gorgeous. Gorgeous. A wide, swift river rushes down through a vast expanse of enormous blue boulders - larger than life and smooth from years of being polished by the water - sitting on sand. We climbed and climbed and climbed, bounding up rocks and crawling through crevices. There's one section of rock that forms a straight wall - tricky to navigate but extremely rewarding once you're at the top, looking down at how far you've come. I like the challenge of finding little nooks and inlets to support my feet and grab onto to hoist myself higher than before. It's the best kind of instant gratification.

Out in the main part of the park are the biggest boulders - massive stretches of rock with river charging between. There are little pools of water hidden all around, clear and bright and deep, and there are places that jut out into the water right where it separates into two different paths; you can lay on your stomach and let the water spray you in the face and put your hands in and feel the frightening power of all of that cold, cold water. It's thrilling!

Once we'd climbed to our hearts content (and gotten stuck in a few places as well) we headed back up to the car, piled in, and drove further down to the area of park where wading and swimming is allowed.

We splashed our way straight into the middle of the icy water, shrieking and gasping, and spent an hour trying to get to the other side of the river, which was less rocky.

It never happened. The current was just too strong.

We did, however, manage to get completely soaked. It was slow going, pushing against the weight of the water, trying to maintain balance while searching blindly for a sturdy place to set our feet, then plodding forward and repeating. Sometimes we were wrong about how good our footing was and ended up slipping on the stones beneath or getting our feet stuck between them. Every now and then a really large rock would be within our reach and we would take a rest before plunging back in. We fought our way a good half mile up the river before calling it quits and following the edge of the bank back to our starting place, shivering and laughing and trying to rub off the mascara that was streaked across our faces. We dried off as best we could, grabbed our shoes, and headed home.

It was great.

And I'm zonked.

As in, completely worn out. Between the late night, the sun, and my very sore legs, I can barely see straight.

Goodnight.