thoughts

slowly, then all at once





I felt it today. The sky hung so low and thick it was almost suffocating, and carried in wisps on the breeze, I heard her whisper. "I'm coming," she breathed, and just like that the temperature dropped and the clouds grew darker. I listened intently, feeling the wind blow on my face. When she finally comes, we gladly give up our games and carefree lives of leisure, only to realize it's January first, cold and miserable and gray, and we desperately wish summer were here again and regret the easiness with which we gave those things up. But Autumn is an unstoppable force and cannot be pleaded or bargained with.
Now the drops are falling heavy, purposefully; I propped my window open earlier and the curtains are swaying and billowing soundlessly. I want to write more about the rain, but then I come across this bit in Sylvia Plath's journal: "It is raining. I am tempted to write a poem. But I remember what it said on one rejection slip: after a heavy rainfall, poems titled RAIN pour in from across the nation." I will be content to listen instead.
It's comforting, listening to the rain through the window. I rearranged my room today and it feels so much cozier and lovely. It started with the curtains; I've been meaning to put them up since May but it was only crossed off the todo list today. While I was putting them up, I realized I couldn't stop with just the curtains--one quote from John Green's The Fault in Our Stars (which I started last night and am almost finished with) keeps running through my mind: "I fell in love with the way you fall asleep: slowly, then all at once." But it's applicable in many ways more than just sleep--like my curtains. First one step slowly, then everything else all at once. Autumn, too. The dog days of summer follow in slow, sticky succession and you think relief will never come, until one day there's a break in the heat and the next day it's a little cooler until suddenly fall surrounds you wherever you go. Slowly, then all at once. In some way or another, maybe that's the pattern of life.

my blushing face



Taking things for granted can be so easy. When you are used to it being there everyday for you, always steady and unwavering, it's not hard to forget about it and just live your life. But more and more, I've been realizing the things that I've been taking for granted are things that are entirely precious and should be cherished, like the relationship with my family and friends. What if one of them suddenly died? Would I be plagued with if-onlys and regrets? Would I live in sorrow over the things I hadn't done and the things left unsaid? I've realized that I love you should be said often and it is important to show that you care.

And as for my faith...I've taken that for granted too. I've been a Christian all my life. I've never been persecuted for my faith. In his hymn, Alas and Did my Savior Bleed, Isaac Watts says something that strikes deep within my heart:

"Thus might I hide my blushing face while his dear cross appears; dissolve my heart in thankfulness, and melt mine eyes to tears."


Tomorrow we celebrate Christ's triumphant resurrection from the dead, and I am sitting here with a convicted heart, hiding my blushing face. When I think about the lashings, the bloody agony, the worst pain known to man that Christ went through for me, and realize that I've taken it for granted? It's humbling. I wholeheartedly love Jesus and consider my faith to be strong...but it could be so, so much stronger. My old sinful self still screams and kicks, not wanting to be fully surrendered to Christ. It is horrifying to think that my black, awful sin drove the nails that pinned Jesus to the cross. But at the same time, it is incredibly awe-inspiring to think that he took my place, that his wounds paid my ransom, and that his dying breath gave me forgiveness and life.

I am humbled and thankful for his limitless grace.

Happy Easter, friends.

the ones I want to remember

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Gallivanting through the forest, stopping to inspect bits of moss or mushrooms growing on a tree, being careful not to step in spots of squishy mud, a cloudy day was transformed into sunshine, if only metaphorically. I like these times, exploring craggy terrain, running through a wide open meadow, gripping a tiny hand and talking about life. Later, we packed up, hearts pounding from the hike, and went out to lunch and froyo, singing along to the radio and laughing over utter nonsense. We have our ups and downs, but there truly is nothing like family. I would be overwhelmingly lost without them.

One of my favorites things to do is reread old posts and diary entries. There's a certain sweetness about reliving past moments. It's funny how it works, though, not realizing just how good a time was until you're looking back. And this space helps remind me how sweet life really is when I'm feeling down. I have bad, even awful days, yes, but here I like to focus on the good instead of the bad. Because honestly, most of those things I get upset and cry over? They're probably just going to fade into oblivion a week from now. But these precious moments spend with friends and family? They're the ones I want to remember the rest of my life.