Carpe Diem

Life is crazy.  Everyone can agree with me on that.  Sometimes, it feels like I don't even have time to breathe.  Especially now that school started, I am more stressed, very busy, and less apt to care about others.  I am so focused on getting homework done or making it to practice on time, I have lost sight of the things that are truly important.  On my door, I have written Phillipians 4:13 on a piece of construction paper.  I walk through that door hundreds of times a day and don't even take a second glance at the verse.  There is so much encouragement in "I can do all things through Christ who stengethens me", yet I ignore it.  High school is hard, and it's not always easy to live a Christ-centered life.  But if I were just to take a few seconds out of my day to look at that verse, it would make it a little easier.  Facing the day wouldn't be such a burden.

It seems the majority of us are losing something that should be essential in every day life: compassion.  No longer are we so concerned with others, unless it's juicy gossip or the latest "story".  When you ask someone how they are, do you care what the answer is?  Or is it a question you ask on the way to your next destination?  Do you hear the reply, or is it just a fleeting moment in your busy day?  It should not be burdensome to listen to someone who needs help, or say a little prayer for someone is going through tough times.  Yet it sure seems like it's a lot of trouble to do this! Why are we so keen to fill our day with meaningless activities?  Do they make us happy? Not usually! Do they honor God? Absoutely not!  Do they express our love to others? Probably not! We are caught up an ongoing cycle of just going through the motions.  We are just exisiting, not really living.  The question I have for you today is will you be the one to break the cycle?
       
"Enjoy the little things in life, for one day you'll look back and realize they were the big things."
I'm not sure who said that, but it is so true.  We get so caught up in this and that, we don't realize how precious and beautiful life is.  When I am old, I want to have wonderful memories of people I love and care about, not how much homework I had or how busy I was. I want to be able to look back and say "Man, that was fun." I want to be the one to dance in the rain, siezing every moment like it will be my last.  You only have a short time on this earth, so do what you can do honor God and have fun!  

Lily of the Valley

^{“Lily, come on now, I want to show you something,” my grandma said to me.}

           

 ^{“Coming Mawmaw,” I replied, slipping my small hand into her wrinkled one.  We walked to the car, where I noticed storm clouds gathering on the horizon.}

           

^{“Where are we going?” I asked as she buckled me into my booster seat.}

           

^{“You’ll see,” is all she said, then kissed my forehead.  We were in the car for what seemed like hours, my grandma driving down the curvy West Virginia roads with ease.}

           

^{Finally, she turned down a road leading into a valley.  We passed a dilapidated farm house, a dried up creek, and other houses, most in obvious disrepair.  Not far down the road, we turned into a driveway with a small barn-shaped mailbox long since fallen.  She stopped the car just as the first drops of rain fell onto the windshield.  In front of us was an old stone rancher with a double garage.  In the front yard, and old tree stump sat next to a huge Weeping Willow.  We walked up the steps to the front door, hand in hand.}

            

^{“Mawmaw Hannah,” I whispered, “where are we?”}

           

^{“Lily,” she said, picking me up, “this is my old house.  I want to show you where I grew up.”}

           

^{So we strolled through her old house, her telling me stories of her childhood.  I could almost see where she found the dead hamster in the living room, or her family saying grace around the table.}

           

^{We made our way to the back porch; three rusted metal rocking chairs sat on one end, and on the other, a wooden swing swayed gently in the summer breeze.  Sitting me on the banister, my grandma continued to relive moments of long ago, the rain pitter-pattering against the roof.  A warm breeze swept through, tickling my skin and casting the smell of summer over the yard.  Lightning flashed quickly, briefly shading the valley in purple hues.  Thunder echoed off the hills, scaring me.  My mawmaw pulled me close to her chest.}

           

^{“You know what my grandpa used to tell me what thunder is?” she murmured into my ear.   I looked up and met her dark brown eyes, glistening with tears.   I shook my head.  “He told me thunder is just ‘taters falling out of a wheelbarrow.  So there is nothin’ to be scared of.  We used to sit out for hours, watching the rain fall.  My favorite place to be was in his arms during thunderstorms.”  She hugged me tighter, and I snuggled into her welcoming embrace.  Thunder rumbled faintly as the lightning bugs began to dance against the silhouette of the trees.  Frogs croaked loudly, and crickets hummed melodically.  That was when I realized my favorite place to be was in her arms.}

^{I wrote this for English class.  We had to tell about our favorite place from someone else's point of view.  It's different from most of the things I write, but I hope you like it.}  

In Memory of September 11, 2001

Black smoke covered the sun
The impossibly blue sky
Was an echo
Of their last goodbye

A nation watched in horror
As our souls were torn apart
There was nothing we could do
As the planes shattered our heart

Chaos erupted in the city
As the first tower fell
What could we do
To stop this living Hell?

Our tears were not enough
To quench the raging inferno
Still today, the embers
Of our pain still glow

They thought they could crush us
With that brutal plane crash
But like the Pheonix,
Our nation rose from the ash