Tag Archives: Choice

A History Worth Remembering

We are constantly making history

both as individuals

and as society.

Tick Tock goes the history clock

Our actions are written down in the future history textbooks

that someday our grandchildren will read

and ask, “You lived through that?”

The same question I ask my own grandparents about World War Two.

The wheel of history turns

and so does that of life.

And so I challenge you,

on this day

January 20th, 2017

to make a history worth remembering

a history to be proud of

a history worth living through

because each and every one of us

can make and change history.

This day will certainly go down in the history books

and probably the day after will also

so let’s make it a good day.

President Donald J. Trump will change the world

as well as my life

and so I wish the best for him and my country.

Though I do not agree with everything he says or does or believes or tweets

though I could not vote for him

I will support him

I will wish only success for him and my nation

because I want to make a history worth remembering

a life to be proud of

I wish the next four years to be the best in all of history

and I will try to make them so.

President Donald J. Trump,

you will change my life

you will change the world

you will make history

but so will I.

 

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It Was Written In the Sky

On a long bus ride, I was reading Ray Bradbury’s novel Fahrenheit 451 over again. I can tell how good of a book it is by how much it has impacted me. This is going to be my fourth post inspired by it. Few books do that, where you read it and instead of wanting to just devour more of its glorious ink marks on tree pulp that was inspired by life itself, you want to compile the building thoughts from the novel and write about it.

But this time instead of applying a truth learned, I wish to write how I came upon the truth.

So there I was on the ten hour bus ride with 33 high school students who smelled like peanut butter and too much cologne. Did I mention that it was a ten hour bus ride? I think I did, but I’ll say it again, a ten hour bus ride . . .

With a book in my face and head phones (or should I say “Seashells”?) turned up loud playing Beethoven, I tried to block out the rap music and the girly-girl talk.

Across the country we went, mile after mile, page after page, song after song.

I was looking for wisdom and wonder in between the lines of a 63 year old book. Trying to block out the youthful folly around me.

Coming to one of the quotes from other books, I search for the quote on Google. While it loads, I look up.

So focused I had been on the book and on the teenagers that I tried to block out, that I had blocked out what had been transforming around me. Winter dreariness with bald trees and fallow fields, had been transformed to spring animation with blooming trees and sowed fields.

So focused on the inside, I had not looked outside. I had only seen one option, and by my lack of observation, I had deprived myself of choice.

In trying to find wisdom I originally looked to a book, and forgot the world.

What I was trying to find in a book was already written in the sky, all I had to do was look. Wisdom and wonder and life was written in the sky. No ink or graphite or typewriter or digital “little black box” needed. Only eyes or ears or hands or mouth or nose needed, to understand what was written in the sky.

Oh, how precious are books, yet even more precious are the things that inspire them.

After marveling at what had been out my window all those hours and miles and pages and songs, I looked back at my phone, and of course it was still loading.

I looked back out the window and wanted my phone to keep loading so that I would never have to look away.


“‘It’s not books you need, it’s some the things that once were in books . . . No, no it’s not books at all you’re looking for! Take it where you can find it, in old phonograph records, old motion pictures, and in old friends; look for it in nature and look for it in yourself. Books were only one type of receptacle where we stored a lot of things we were afraid we might forget. There is nothing magical in them, at all. The magic is only in what books say, how they stitched the patches of the universe together into one garment for us.'”

-Page 79 in Fahrenheit 451

Cancer Saved Her Life

Cancer: it destroys organs, normal lives, families. This disease, that we as a society know all too well, starts in our cells and ends with one less person in the annual Christmas card. Dealing with cancer is consumed with Chemo, hair loss, and white blood cell counts, but in some cases there is something more than just mutating cells.

I was four when my Grandma was first diagnosed with stage four lung cancer. Her whole adult life, she was plagued with depression, only seeing the incorrect brush strokes of life’s big picture. But cancer changed her. I grew up seeing my grandmother enduring hours of chemotherapy and starting to regularly attend my church. With hair loss came losing the importance of utmost perfection in her life. When counting white blood cells, blessings were counted too. On her long and twisted journey to becoming a better person, the cancer was always there, lurking. But I think that was what pushed her forward.

Cancer often ends lives, but with my Grandma’s diagnosis she started a new one. Sometimes the darkest moments in our lives are the ones most needed. Cancer is horrible, scary and degrading, but as my Grandma used to always say ‘you can either laugh or cry’ and she laughed with a passion. This depressing, distressing, dismal disease can be either heartbreaking or heart-making.

Her journey ended, but she was glad to be able to have nine years to see her three granddaughters grow up and have the time to grow in her faith. When life sentences us with a last chance, it can be viewed as a second chance.


Published in Creative Communications Spring 2016 Essay Contest

 

Create. Be. Enjoy: You

Be You

Be You

What is love?

Over the moon. Fun. Compelling. And More!

The hidden treasure that few

Understand the difference between

Love and Lover’s

Who are you

When you have

The power of two.

Are you yourself?

Or are you what he wants

Advice

rediscover why you fell in love with you.


This one only took me two hours and two magazines! I started cutting and the words seemed to choose themselves. This poem is about the relationships that I see in high schoolers or any relationship were one person conforms to what the other expects. Expectations, you can either set the bar low or high and they will met it if you expect them to. Why do people feel like they need to conform to society, to their peers, to their significant other?

People like to feel accepted. That they are one of the group, but are the best part of the group of course! People want to fit in, but stand out just enough to feel important. I get that. I’ve done that. And I am trying to discern when to or not to.

Our society and culture is all about the individual and how they are important. Yes, great! But that individual has to fit into the group of individuals. A group solely made for being singular. All about me in the this great big world of other amazing individuals and their Instagram posts.

But don’t get me wrong social media can be wonderful to spread worthy causes. But a while back remember the water dunking ALS Ice Bucket Challenge, everyone started doing it because celebrities were doing it. It became more about ‘Hey I did that!’ than the cause.

So what I am saying is that, you don’t need to conform to a group or idea or expectation because you think you need to or someone wants you to. Finding who you are and who you are meant to be is one of the hardest things, and you need don’t need a fad to stray you in the wrong direction.

But here is another thought, sometimes you don’t need to find who you are, but create it. You may look around and see everyone else has their niche. Their home, their friends, the echos of laughs at the lunch table. But you don’t. You begin to think, maybe this person that I am creating myself to be is wrong. Maybe I am wrong and they are right. Maybe I am the problem.

No! Sometimes before creating who you are, you need to create what you are. By creating what you are, determines who you are and who you will become.

Did you ever think about who started the groups that everyone always flocks to? Maybe they were the outcast and decided to do something about it and created what they are. The clique had to start somewhere.

Final big thoughts: Be you. Find or create you. Create what you are. Once you find or create that, live that. If people don’t like it, honor their choice. They choose who they are and maybe you don’t fit into that. People make choices that are right for them, not you and how it will make you feel. We don’t ever really think about that. That there is more lives and life choices than ‘me’.

General when we make choices, who do we make them for?

Us. Me. You. Because that is the first person that it will impact. Every time I pray, I pray that I will not only show and be a good witness to Christ, but I hope that my actions will have an impact. A good one I hope. I pray that I will not be self-centered that I miss how I affected someone. I pray that I will see their pain and be able to do something. And if I can’t at least I can show that I acknowledge that I see their pain and they feel noticed.

So to the people who ask other’s to change for them or because they think they have to. Your path, your choice, your life of who you are creating yourself to be, doesn’t fit everyone. People are different. Not everyone likes pineapple on their pizza! (I do).

Okay, I promise last time of me trying to wrap up. People make choices. People make choices for themselves, not you. Honestly, people normally don’t care how their actions affect you. Or they just don’t think about it. So give some people some slack, or more in Bible terms, show mercy, do not give judgement, but discern. You matter, but you don’t matter when people make their life choices for themselves. You matter when you make your life choices. You make you of who you want to be.

God created you to be you. Nothing more or less. God created you to be you and not what society wants you to be. Everything about you is perfect in your perfectly crazy life.

I’ll leave you with some lyrics from my favorite artist Jamie Grace’s Every Bit of Lovely:

Don’t you know that you’re God’s original work of art, yes you are
So don’t ever let them tell you that you’re less than wonderful
Cause you’re a one and only
You’re every little bit, every little bit of lovely
Have you seen a lightning storm?
And have you heard the oceans roar?
Have you seen a newborn baby smile?
Well, the same God who made all that, made you

Failed Rescue ~ Part 2

It has been 121 days

since I have given up.

***

I’m going crazy.

All the death

it’s still happening

and it’s still my fault

which means it becomes my responsibility

again.

***

I never truly realized how many lives I saved

only how many I didn’t save.

***

I wonder

would their lives continued on

if I had continued on

121 days ago?

***

But then my mind begins to play

the devil’s advocate,

and whispers echo in my ears,

what if I had never started?

Would there have been as many terrors to

my city?

***

What if I don’t use my powers

for good or bad,

I just don’t use them.

***

Then they are not a gift or a curse,

only locked away in a box

and I threw away the key.

***

The key was confidence,

and confidence got them killed.

***

Now I fear I can do nothing.

I can’t move forward

with this new and only one life

that the man behind the mask

chose for me.

***

I can’t go back to my old life

before the responsibility,

before the deaths.

***

But no matter what I do

they keep on building

the deaths keep on building.

Whether I’m the man or the mask

death keeps knocking.

***

I have the potential for good

or death.

I had once thought that I had the potential

for greatness.

***

Now have the potential

to do nothing.

***

Death keeps on knocking

at the box.

I need the key,

but I don’t want it.

***

How can I pick up

the weapon that killed you

and know that it might happen all over again.

***

I am a murder,

yet am I still a hero?

If I don’t pick up the murder weapon

I’ll only be a killer.

***

If I pick up the murder weapon

I could save more lives

and possibly kill more.

***

But I am killing countless people in my inaction.

I could even the scales

or tip them even more.

***

I am going crazy with all the death

I’m causing by doing nothing.

***

I will take action,

I will be a hero,

I will save lives

and in the process

I may kill some more.

***

But it will be worth it

?