begone, ye wretched high school spirit.

it troubles me a bit to think that a body called to unity can be so quietly disobedient to that call. perhaps it's wrong of me to take the example of one and magnify it enough to blanket everyone else. but what can you expect if you are expected to be a representative of the student body. your fault.

you can ask what brought me to this uneasy notion. i suppose you can say that i had a weird experience of backwards nostalgia today at lunch.

i cannot remember the last time someone pulled an extra chair to their table just as i was approaching it... to find these words repel me: "oh, sorry... [someone] is going to sit there." i look around. this [someone] isn't there. i make a silent protest by sitting on the table immediately next to it about-faced. i almost felt more rude than they were. thank goodness for witnesses of this heinous chair circumstance, i was rescued from a deepening pit of "righteous anger."

(of course i'm exagerrating. let's not forget that i'm giving you a nice glimpse from the perspective of the cynical part of my brain.)

just when i thought i left high school, i found that not very many people did.

as the best friend knows the phrase "wow, rude" resonates around every corner as a common expression on the lips of every bible college student to the point that it's almost a sign of endearment. it's funny how i'd like to use that word for what it really means.

Lord, save me.
I'm doing it again.

i should stop this entry before it gets any worse.
before i start raising the old cynic from the dead.
and she would like that very much.

hey, girl-who-couldn't-spare-a-seat.
girl-who-must-humble-herself wants to say sorry.

that's me.

saturated skies.

i don't think i have ever been a fan of grey days until recently. now that i think about it, i like rain when i'm not in it. i like to see the beauty in mirroring asphalt and prismed windows. the swaying of trees with violent leaves. desperate people huddling under an umbrella. i like seeing stuff like that.

i read about charlie a few days ago. someone told him that he needed to participate more. whatever that means. i guess it means that i need to be less of a loser and participate more.

i guess it's nice to be a spectator.
could it possbily be better to be a part of the production?

when can i know?
my planners kind of full this week.

semester two.

here comes another semester at the bible college. and to think that i almost couldn't pay for this semester. it just goes to show that if God wants something done, He'll bring us to our point of faith/desperation (emptying our bank accounts) to leave room for Him to do it. sometimes we get in the way. i can attest to that.

i was an alien. i once did not belong to any promise. but because of the blood of Christ, i was bought. adopted. grafted. now i'm a broken vessel. i am His workmanship, poema: His masterpiece. and a poem must reflect the Poet with beauty and grace. as more is written, more is added. here comes more beauty and grace. guided solely by His skillfull hand, i am being perfected. a fixed vessel. something He can live in, live through.

i am a child. i live according to His promise.
and because of the blood of christ, i have Hope.
i am Loved.
and there's nothing i can do to make Him love me any more or any less.

i can attest to that.