20 seconds


Just a few minutes ago, I put my coffee in the microwave for 20 seconds. I walked across the kitchen, then the dining room, to the other end of the house, down the hall, to the office, said something to my mom, and had gotten back down the end of the hall when the microwave went off.

And I immediately thought, Wow. A lot just happened in 20 seconds. That’s crazy.

I can’t help but wonder about all kinds of other situations that could possibly happen in 20 seconds or less.

— a car crash

— a break up

— unkind words exchanged, hurt feelings

— a compliment and a smile

— a random act of kindness

— a soldier jumping on a grenade

— a shared joke

— a selfless act to save someone’s life

— a single look that says more than a thousand words

— a missed opportunity

— admiring a beautiful sunset

— a heartfelt conversation

— a prayer

Isn’t it amazing? It makes me take another look at how I’m living my life, moment by moment, day by day. How am I affecting others? Am I pointing them to Christ? Does my life give glory to God? Are my actions exemplary? The little girl at school that looks up to me … would I want her to imitate what I say and what I do? Am I cynical, or am I encouraging to be around? Am I complaining more than I am focusing on others instead of myself?

What do you think? And what other things could happen in 20 seconds or less?

rise up, ye introverts


It seems like the little things that normal people find easy to do are huge, daunting, horrible, excruciating, difficult tasks for us introverts. For example, most people don’t really have problems making phone calls, or saying “hi” to someone, raising their hand in class, talking louder so people can hear you, or making small talk with someone at a party.

And sometimes it hurts, yes? To muster up the courage just to talk to our brothers and sisters in Christ? To enjoy ourselves at social functions, even when the world is spinning with bright lights, and dixie cups, loud voices, cramped space, and someone says “hi” and you can’t breathe? (o.k., please tell me I’m not the only one on this one …)

Now, despite what society says, introversion isn’t bad in and of itself. But I know from experience that it can get in the way of doing what God calls us to do, because we’re too crippled by our fear to step into the unknown and do something uncomfortable.

Feeling afraid or unworthy doesn’t …

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don’t waste your life.

{photo credit: flicker}

{photo credit: flicker}

Dust gathers on my keyboard, maple leaves stick to pavement, tests keep me awake at 12:30 a.m., shuffled papers and empty coffee mugs clutter my desk by the window, and I sit, staring into space, with so many thoughts I cannot fathom into words.

Sometimes I have to wonder if the world really does spin faster as we get older, time slips between our fingers like sand, and the ticking of the clock never slows, never wavers.

We as young people are told our goal in life should be to follow our hearts. Pursue our dreams. Find true love. Do what makes us happy. You only live once, so we should wander blissfully and aimlessly through life like a paper airplane doing what we want to do until the hourglass stops.

But is that really what God has in store for us?

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a page from my journal in april

{unknown credit}

{unknown credit}

Jumbled words. Raw. Unedited. Straight from my brain.


I was made for another world. I know I was. I think my love of writing has stemmed from more than just the passion and joy it gives me.

It comes from this ache, this longing, not just to write, but this … cry for beauty. I crave it. I crave it in my daily life. I crave it when I wake up. I crave it when I read great works like Till We Have Faces. I crave it as I gaze at purple sunrises in my rear-view mirror every morning. I crave it as I go through the mundane, the serious, the repetitive parts of life. I crave it in sweet, dimpled smiles, starry skies, baby’s laughter, daily bike rides, cricket’s song, summer’s kiss, the blank page, cursor blinking, I etch the words that flame my soul as my heart trembles like a violin string, and I crack like the spine of a book. This flame, longing, nestles itself deep into my psyche. The pursuit of beauty that calls me from the ocean’s shore, the mountains around, roses reaching rooftops, running wild, the everywhere, the now, the memories past.

This urge to write is my way of reaching for the incorruptible beauty found in the simple joys of life, fingertips caressing heaven’s gate. Why didn’t I see this before?