Think the thoughts, feel the feels...write it down

I have learned to not have favorite students.  It's clear that God has favorites by the way He treats us all with no equality.  My family and I aren't on His favorite list and it's rotten.  I'm not gonna do that to my students, I'm not going to make some feel like I like them and some feel like I couldn't care less about them.  It's not fair and I want to be just. God's Favorites: He always provides for what they need, He never takes away anyone they care about, He gives them what they want when they want it most of the time. God's Non-Favorites: He doesn't provide for them consistently so they have have to work 12/6 to barely pay the minimum on the bills while they watch others have more than enough without even trying, He goes long periods of time not talking to His children that He says He loves, He continually breaks them letting things get worse with no break or explanation, He let's them get their hope up only to smack it out of the

Last Sunday I heard a great, relevant message at church that led me to come to terms with something that I hadn't had a clarification on.  I am ready to be back in a real relationship with the Lord, to be communicating with Him regularly, to re-learn His voice.  But the fact that I faced on last Sunday was that I didn't know how to go about the relationship.  Things are different now, I am different now and my perception and understanding of who God is is very different.  I pondered how to go about having a relationship with Him. I didn't know whether I was supposed to try to pick up where we left off or start (kinda)anew.  You see, trying to have the same relationship we had before I gave up on Him just seemed foolish; in any relationship, conflict changes perceptions of yourself and the other person, and while God's knowledge of me hasn't changed, my understanding/perception of Him has certainly altered.  Things will never be the same, but I don't believe th

I have to be honest, when I see couples (especially younger than me) getting engaged/married, or when someone else announces their pregnancy/baby, I freak out a little bit...but then I remember that I'm only 23 and I like my life.  I briefly wonder what's taking me so long, why aren't I married?  why aren't I living the "typical" adult life? I heard someone say that God has promised us a spouse.  This would mean that everyone is supposed to get married.  I don't believe this to be true.  While, yes, the majority of people (that I know of) get married at least once, there's no guarantee that anyone person will get married.  But that's alright.  Marriage isn't a reward for doing the right thing.  Marriage is...marriage.  You're either married or not, it's nothing personal. So if you're reading this and you're married, know that there's nothing wrong with you, you're just not married.  Being single means you can do thin

Well folks, it's November!  This means that men everywhere (well at least in places that I can see) will be growing their facial hair out and likely their head hairs out.  HOORAY! I love a man with facial hair, it's like home to me.  I think part of it is because, growing up, my daddy always had a Van Dyke (mustache attached to a gotee), so it's very familiar to me.  There's something so excellent about a man who can grow a (quality) beard/mustache; to me, it means they're more manly. Now I've seen some gross beards/mustaches before: the patchy beards, the thin mustaches, the one's with food stuck in it.  These will not win me over.  But a face with consistent hair growing out of it that's clean?  Yes Please. Facial hair seems so useful and during the cold months; I always envy men with delicious beards because I'm certain their faces are exponentially warmer than mine.  My face gets so cold that my teeth hurt when I open my mouth, BUT if I had

Lately, the last week or so, I've felt something stirring inside.  Something good, something progressive.  It's seemed like my heart has been softening towards God.  I've stopped cynically retorting to all the good things people say about God and the Christian walk, and have felt more comfortable with the idea of being in a relationship with God.  Today, at church, pastor talked about 'Identity' and I thought 'oh great, another one of those messages.'  But the message was, surprisingly, refreshing. He talked about how we have been called children of God and this means that we ARE children of God,  1 John 2:28-3:10.  We should act accordingly.  As children of God, we can live a life of freedom and victory (1 John 2:12-14), although we often let the Accuser (devil) tell us that our mistakes/sins are who we are .  The  devil calls us failures when we fail at something, but the reality is we're still children of God, we simply made a mistake.   God tells u

‎"The missionary heart cares more than some think is wise, risks more than some think is safe, dreams more than some think is practical, and expects more than some think is possible." This was posted as friend's Facebook status tonight, she got it from a pastor who read it from a missionary girl who died.  Wow, if that's a missionary heart, then I am way off.  I can honestly, and humbly?, say that this quote used to speak so true of me, but now that doesn't reflect who I am, who I've become.  I want that heart again.  I want that compassion, that visionary, idealist spirit.  But I've allowed my lousy (lousy in my opinion) circumstances of the past several months to get to me, to alter my perspective and attitude on life.  I want to return to a heart not centered around myself, but centered around loving others and the Lord. The other week I was chatting with a friend and telling her that I know I'm supposed to live a different type of life, as a Ch

Have you ever watched a movie and seen a character that really resonated with you?  It's never actually happened to me before until this past weekend.  A friend and I watched  Something Borrowed and one of the main characters, Ginnifer Goodwin's character, reminded me of myself, sadly.  The character was hopelessly in love with a friend of hers from grad school that was engaged to her best friend since childhood.  Unfortunately I know all too well how Gin's character feels; she was always the girl who liked the guy, but was never liked by the guy.  She would externally be patient and pretend to not be affected by his lack of romantic attention, but internally she'd be in turmoil with hopelessness that he would never love her because she's not beautiful enough.  She was that girl. Maybe it's part of my personality, or perhaps it's my insecurities, but I'm always hopeful that he would like me yet I'm certain he won't, because I'm not good eno

I feel uninspired.  I feel that I have only little glimpses of the supposed good stuff that makes up life: car, house, housemates, money, community.  But all else feels empty.  What is "all else"?  There's something missing that used to live inside me.  I hate to say that I'm almost entirely certain I know what that 'something' is, yet I sit here without attempting to attain it, to connect to it.  Life feels hollow without it.  If I am a branch, then I am a dying one, shriveling up from self-inflicted alienation from the Vine. So what's wrong with me that I would continue to let myself dry up when I know where Living Water is to be accessed?  Bitterness?  Perhaps a little.  Cynicism?  A lot.  Anger?  Not so much.  Fear?  Probably.  Anticipation?  Most definitely.  There's all those emotions coursing through my veins, sucking me dry; but there used to be life rushing through me.  There used to be hope, joy, love, inspiration, purpose, identity.  All t

Lately I've noticed a lot of commercials/shows about "curvy" women.  "Curvy" meaning plus size, meaning 'larger than the average woman.'  I have a problem with this term "curvy"; while I'm not plus sized, I do consider myself to be curvy.  I'm shaped like a woman, because I am a woman with a body; I have that hourglass shape with a slight peariness (slightly larger on the bottom than top) to it.  I think it's unfair that I don't get to be called curvy simply because I'm not plus sized. That's all.

So I've been living in this house for over a month now and can I just say that I love it!  I literally come home everyday and I am filled with joy!  I enjoy this house so much, I love my room and I love every other room in this house even my housemates.  I love my housemates, they are all so fabulous, and beautiful, and smart, and great.  I love my bed, it's so comfortable and delicious. People, before I moved in, said that that heightened feeling of satisfaction and 'love' would die down soon once I get into the rhythm of my house and housemates.  Well, 'soon' has passed and I'm still very much in love.  The more time I spend in this house with these people the happier I become. So for now I'd say that I'm in honeymoon stage.

Tonight I ate Cookout's Cajun Fries and they were so spicy that after eating them, my mouth still hurt...remember that for later. Tonight, I went to my college-young adult meeting like usual, and the message was written specifically for me (well it felt that way).  The message was about attitude, and Jonah and the prodigal son's older brother were the main characters.  You see, they both had rotten attitudes about the actions of the Father towards people/places/situations they thought negatively of. At the beginning of the year, I was angry with God; I was angry because I didn't see His goodness being displayed in my life.  Nothing made sense to me, nothing added up, nothing felt fair, nothing was right.  Everything sucked.  But I'm not angry anymore, but remember those fries?  They were the main attraction, but the aftertaste, the afterburn, could hold it's own as a main show.  I'll break it down for you: Fries=Anger I had toward God. Aftertaste/Afterburn=Th

"For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them."~~~Ephesians 2:10 "For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope."~~~Jeremiah 29:11 I've forgotten that God places callings on each of our lives; these callings are specific to each of us and never go away.  That's what I remembered 'randomly' on my way to church yesterday.  I remember my mom telling me that once called, always called; she said that no matter how far we get from what God wants us to do, we always have our callings to go back to, He doesn't take them away; and His calling is infinitely better than everything else, ever.  Well, wouldn't you know it, I talked to someone really awesome Sunday morning that reminded me of that calling-the calling of being a missionary. There's a lady that came and guest spoke to the ele

There's a movie that I really like called He's Just Not That Into You ; the overarching theme is that we tell females lies from childhood about males being attracted to them.  The first example they use is a girl getting teased on a playground from a boy, she runs crying to her mom and tells her what happened; the mom responded by saying "he's just doing that because he likes you".  The narrator, Ginnifer Goodwin, talks about how people, primarily women, will tell their girlfriends lies about the reasoning of men treating them crappily.  'Oh he's just ignoring you because he's intimidated by your beauty.'  But one character in the movie said that if a man wants you he will call you, he will pursue  you . People, in an effort to make you feel better, will blindly, unknowingly lie to you about circumstances.  It's a nice thought, but I don't currently appreciate it; I don't think I believe in that anymore. Today, while at my yogurt jo

Hey, so I have been recommended to HR for the part-time general music position at an elementary school in Charlotte, just down the street from where I went to high school.  I'm pretty excited, and am so encouraged.  All I need to do is send in my transcript and this form saying that I have legitimately graduated from University.  The people that I interviewed with said they were really excited to have me and they seem very supportive of the arts.  I'm pretty excited!  Be praying for final hiring process. As I mentioned, this job is part time.  This means that I'll be working "only 20 hours a week" and will get paid half of what a teacher, based off the teacher scale, gets paid; but I do get insurance, so that's super.  I intend to continue working at the yogurt place part time even though just the school job will be enough for me to live  from.  ASAP I will be buying a new car; my car has had it and I have had it. I am excited for this job, but I am also v

This is one boat I'm glad I missed.  Facebook is exploding with pictures of babies; people from church, University, where ever are all having babies.  Holy cow!  It's freaking me out, am I really that old?  Am I really old enough to raise another human?  I don't even have my life together, surely I couldn't take care of another! This post college time is strange; suddenly everyone is the same age but on different pages.  I'm working at a yogurt place part time and living with a bunch of women, while others are married with children. Whoa!  This is madness.  I'm quite happy with my life right now, it's not perfect but I have a job (and another one in process, more about that later) and am living in an amazing house with fabulous women.  I'm pretty happy.

This post was originally me griping about what I don't like about my family, but, since starting this post (a few weeks ago) I've learned a lot and my perspective has changed.  I am learning and choosing to accept, now, that all families have their dysfunctionalities (I'm pretty sure that's not a word) and that's because people are deeply flawed.  It's inevitable. My problem is/was that I saw the problems of my family and I wanted to jump right in and fix them.  I wanted to instruct on how to speak, treat, love one another.  And it wasn't even because I thought it my way or the highway, it was because I saw problems and saw a lack of progressive movement towards resolving the problems and I figured "someone's gotta do it".  A friend of mine kept telling me that it's not my job to fix my family's problems, but I feel such a responsibility and burden for my family that it's difficult for me to simply let go. Last Tuesday I heard a

My friend posted this on his wall and I found it quite interesting.  I like it. http://www.relevantmagazine.com/college-guide-undergrad/features/spiritual-life/23889-the-gospel-according-to-hipsters

Okay, so today was my first day at work and it was pretty good.  I worked for 5 hours and was pretty much thrown right in.  Today I: did some training sessions on a computer, manned my own register, cleaned, smiled, explained that this is, in fact, yogurt, put out fruit, learned what mochi is, and stood...a lot.  I thought I'd be much more drained after working, but I wasn't initially.  I really wasn't engaging with people in the same way I'm used to with teaching.  I just press buttons (well it's actually a touch screen), swipe cards/deal with cash, and hand out little sample cups.  That's mostly what I did all day.  Pretty mind numbing, but it's a job.

I'm cleaning/packing up my room and I found this speech I wrote in fifth grade at the conclusion of completing the DARE program.  I was chosen to give this speech at DARE Graduation.  Check out my awesome 5th Grade writing skills.  I won't even correct any mistakes.        DARE means drug, abuse, resistance,education.My goal is to become a music teacher and travel all over the world teaching music.This means I'll have to learn different languages, study different kinds of music, and stay drug free.I need to stay drug free because I want a healthy body ,and I want to accomplish my goals.I also want people to trust me.       Some of the things I have learned are the different kinds of drugs,and the consequences of taking drugs.I've also learned about alcohol,stress,and violence.It is important to avoid violence because it can get you into a lot of trouble,and hurt you many different ways.I think DARE is important because it teaches children how drugs can mess up their

" For in this hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience. " Romans 8:24-25 So I've been having time with God again as of late!  I decided that I would read Romans 8 because I heard it was a good chapter.  This morning (really this afternoon) I was reading Romans 8:18-25, and thinking 'what does this have to do with me'?  Such a selfish thought, I know, but lately  everything  I've been reading in this chapter has spoken directly into my life.  Then I got to verses 24 and 25 and bingo!  Lately, I've been saying (with a whiny undertone) that I don't even want to know how things get better, I just want to know when things get better.  I just want to know that I have just one more week until I have a job, or just a month until this other mess clears up, whatever, I just wanna know when.  Essentially, I'm tired of faith/hope and I just want

So I've knitted a scarf and hat set for one of by best friends, Bridgette.  She's currently in Chile doing missionary work with Campus Crusade for Christ and it's winter there so I made her these. I'm most proud of the hat because I used a circular knitting needle for; it was my first time using them and I think it turned out pretty well!  Also, side note,  I took pictures using my camera!

I became a Christian Summer of 2001, I was 13 years old.  I don't remember the exact day or even the exact month, so a few years ago, I decided to adopt July as my birthday month.  I've decided, in this blog post, to share my testimony.  I always like to say that my testimony, how I came to believe, is backwards from how everyone else became a Christian.  So strap yourself in. My parents were raised in the church and so was I, but that's not out of the norm considering I live in the Bible belt.  I grew up hearing that Jesus Christ died on the Cross for our sin; sin: killing people, stealing, and hurting people (being mean).  I always figured that I was safe because I wasn't a 'bad' person, I didn't realize I was a sinner along with murderers and thieves and bullies (or terrorists, they're really the same thing).  When I was nine, my family was together and some of the 'grown-ups' gathered us kids up and asked if we were saved.  We all figured &q

It's no secret the devil uses lies and our pasts as a form of destruction.  Today I was walking my dog and stressing about everything, when memories of times I felt bad started projecting in my brain.  Times when I felt rejected, insignificant, hated, excluded, helpless, ugly, dumb...crummy.  As I was walking and nursing these old injuries, I realized these thoughts were not helping!  My very posture had changed, I was dragging my feet and looking at the ground.  I couldn't enjoy my walk because I was so distracted by my self-pity, and to a certain degree, self-loathing.  I stopped myself, I reclaimed my thoughts, my brain. What God created as something to use for His glory, our minds, can easily be turned against us, against Him.  Our minds are powerful membranes; they can be used to destroy or create, for good or evil.  My mind is all too often a detriment to my persona; I let my thoughts get carried away and it typically never ends for the better.  We let the accuser tell

I consider the following to be a sign of growth: there are men I have had crushes on who, now, I just enjoy their friendship...without the hard feelings.  I'm thinking of one crush in particular.  He's a fantastic man who is in pursuit of the Lord's face and is quite easy on the eyes and I had a crush a on him...naturally.  But now, we're just friends; nothing romantic happened between us (as is always the case with me and the men I dig), but I'm quite okay with that. There was time when I would crush on a guy and never be able to be around him, without discomfort, again. I think I was paranoid that somehow, for some reason my secret feelings would be exposed and I would be humiliated.  But, thankfully, no more!  I can be around men that I had a huge crush on and be normal, easygoing. Now the trick is to be nonchalant around men that I currently dig...baby steps.

So, I've just now decided that I'm going to start taking pictures again.  I am not even a mediocre photographer, I just have a life worth documenting.  I love looking at pictures and remembering or imagining or wishing.  I'm surrounded by hipsters, and apparently in the Hipster Handbook photography is on the List of Do's, but my camera doesn't match the caliber of hipsterness that exists.  It's old in technology terms, about 4 years, and it isn't big and boastful (although it is a compelling blue).  But there was a time when I would document EVERYTHING, time with friends/family, special events, walking to class, you name it; I think this'll be good for me.  When I was diligent about taking pictures, I noticed the beauty and grace of life a lot more, everything had a lot more value, sustenance.  I don't intend to be good at it, but I do hold the intention of enjoying it.

Yesterday, I was at small group, a different one than I usually go to, and we were sharing our prayer requests.  I told them that I had been searching for a job and I was kinda tired of waiting because money is needed.  One of my brothers in Christ said that I would have a dream that night with Donald Trump and Monday I would get a job.  I laughed and said that it would be great, he said 'you wait I'm right about these things'.  Today I woke up without a dream, that I can remember, involving Donald Trump (thankfully).  I checked my phone, no calls/messages, I checked my email and I had a message from my boss.  She gave me a nannying job this Friday with a great family I nanny-ed for this past Saturday.  I was a little disappointed because I was scared that that was the job that I was gonna get.  Well, I was vacuuming the stairs at home today when I got a call.  I picked up and I have a interviewed on Wednesday down the street from where I'll be moving in under month!  I

So Friday I was driving home on an interstate when my car started sliding a little on the road.  I looked in my rear view mirror and saw a tire tread get spit out from under my car.  My car stopped acting funny, but I was still confused where the tread came from because I hadn't seen it in front of me.  I pulled over to the side of I-485 to have a look and all was clear except my front-passenger turning signal light was dangling.  I tried to put it back in, but let's face it, I can't do anything right when it comes to cars.  My turning signals stopped working...and then they started working...and now they've stopped again. My point?  I suck at car ownership.  Cars blow my mind!  They, in my opinion, are just as needy as children...and just as expensive.  Since my car breaks in some capacity every few months, I constantly feel in danger when driving it.  I'm always scared that it's gonna just break or quit on me when I'm driving on some interstate, like it

Something I don't like doing is waiting.  I don't know that I'd call myself impatient, because I don't really act like I'm anxious about waiting, but inside I'm often antsy with anticipation. Right now, the biggest thing I'm waiting for is a job; I've applied to several schools and some other places, so now I wait.  I don't know how long to wait or if I should continue to apply to places.  It's not unbearable, but it certainly isn't pleasant. I think that women often feel frustration in waiting, I believe it's part of the result of The Fall of Man.  Women tend to want to take control of whatever the situation may be.  But that's not alright.  Men are supposed to be the leaders, even though they often tend to abdicate their duties, also because of The Fall.  What a predicament that leaves us, men and women, in.  What God created as a perfect balance between men and women, leadership and submission, has now been reduced to a tug-of-

Can I just express to you how excited I am about what happens in about a month?!?  I move into this amazing house with these even more amazing women!  I literally think about it multiple times a day.  I wake up and think "soon I'll be waking up in a different (better) bed in a different house!"  I eat and think "soon I'll be sharing a table with women I love soooooo much!"  I use the bathroom and think "soon I'll only be sharing a bathroom with one other woman instead of 4 children and the bathroom with be clean ALL the time!"  Ah!!!  I'm so excited I could explode. Now all I need is a job, I've applied to SEVERAL schools and am waiting to hear back from them, as well as having applied to random other places: gym, coffee shops, etc.  Living in this house is just what I need and something I never knew I wanted.  The women in the house are people from my church and college and young adult group.  They're my peeps.  Right now, we'

Last night, I finally watched the movie Precious , directed by Lee Daniels, based off the novel Push by Sapphire.  I knew the basic plot:  Precious, 16, is abused (verbally, emotionally, physically, and sexually) by her father and mother and has some teachers and other people that help her survive and rise above.  I was pretty prepared to cry throughout the movie, and I did.  How could you not cry?  What I wasn't prepared for was the film pointing my thoughts toward my students, past and future. I know inevitably that I will teach students who will have parts of Precious' story as theirs.  In fact, I'm certain I already have in my short time as a teacher.  I've had a student whose parents pulled knives on each other in front of 30 people; I've had a student who's dad isn't allowed on campus because he got a DUI on the middle school campus.  Yep, there's more, some less offensive and some more, known and unknown.  That's a scary part about teaching,

In April, I wrote a post about abiding.  In it, I shared what I had been learning about abiding in the Lord and how I wanted to shake things up in my regimented quiet time.  Well, I think a follow up post is loooong overdue.  I've been sucking at it. Today I read a friends blog post where she said she's living paycheck to paycheck, it helped me realize that's what I'm doing in my spiritual life.  I'm just barely squeaking by, just barely being sustained, not really feeling secure. I had stopped my quiet time routine to experience God in a bigger way, to get more of Him; but what has happened instead is I'm floundering.  I'm like a fish who's trying to learn to live without water, I'm dying.  I help with the kids church and yesterday we taught the lesson about how Jesus is the Vine and we are the branches; how we are to stay connected to Jesus so that we can bare fruit for His Kingdom.  I just now got that that lesson is about me!  Perfect. I ne

Have you ever thought back to a specific time/situation or (ahem) a blog post, and thought " I am such a terrible person"?  Yea, me neither...just kidding.  Sometimes I can be so mean over the dumbest things.  But the good news is there's grace, mercy, and seemingly infinite chances.  God is so good and am so not.

Have you ever known someone that you consider to be a friend, maybe not a close one, and just wondered why you even bother being in a relationship with them?  I don't think like that often, but a few days ago that thought came to mind and I've been entertaining it since then. Now, I'll admit that my emotions were out of whack that day, so I took everything personally, but still, that person is a jerk.  They were having a self-inflicted crisis and I was trying to help and they said stuff like 'I'm surrounded by people I like, well except you Coléa'.  Excuse my language, but what the hell you ass?!  While people were literally trying to avoid you, I was trying to understand your dumb crisis and be a good friend, and you make a remark like that?  Unacceptable.  Maybe, that was them taking a stab at humor, but I don't appreciate it. I think I have mentioned before that I hate passive aggressiveness, but I think I'm gonna go for it in this situation.  It

So, I have become a crier.  I think God is doing this, or it could just be something else.  I'll be watching a movie and there'll be a tender moment and my eyes will water heavily.  I used to only cry, in movies, when a dog died or was mistreated (Airbud: the boy tried to leave the dog on an island with pudding, I cried).  I can see the progression of this crying business, I've just finally admitted it to myself...and to y'all. I'm less than thrilled about this; I mean, now that I'm wearing eye make-up on the regular, it could really mess things up.  I guess the lesson I can learn from this is that many of life's moments deserve that kind of respect.  When someone cries, typically it's a moment or a time that warrants some strong emotion: elation, sorrow, frustration, anger, bliss.  I used to only cry when there was extreme sadness or anger to express, but now I feel like anything goes.  I'm still getting used to this business, and I guess it's

Recently, I've seen commercials and other forms of media talking about how we should stop using the word "retard(ed)".  Now, while I understand the heart behind it, I think that's dumb.  Music is mostly written in Italian, so when there are words above or below the notes, they're typically in Italian.  When a passage needs to slow down, ritardando (rit.) is written under the staff.  We call it a "ritard" (not rEtard).  I have to admit, that when I teach this word to young musicians, they snicker initially, but after I explain that it's a word that musicians use to slow things down, and any improper use is unacceptable things are good and I never have a problem with it again. Here's the thing: some people really are mentally, emotionally, and physically retarded.  This can be due to Down Syndrome, cerebral palsy, any number of behavioral disorders, and an assortment of other things.  I think that by calling it a 'nicer', less politicall

I've pretty much always liked males.  I actually remember the exact day I started liking boys:  my first full day of Kindergarten, I started after-school as well.  A big, cool 1st grader, named Sharie, approached me and pointed to another big, cool 1st grader named Garrett and said "Isn't Garrett cute?!"  From then on, I liked boys.  So when prepubescence descended upon us, I had already 'discovered' that boys were cute and that girls should like them.  That was old news for me. I know some women who like a certain type of man, certain style, certain height, certain race, certain occupation, all that stuff.  I'm not like that at all and never have been.  I've liked every race: black, white, asian, hispanic, native American, you name it.  I've liked many variations of looks: goth, prep, slob, ginger (I only put that here because I know not where else to put it and remember a 'fling' I had with a ginger in 8th grade as well as other ginger

I grew up in a pretty strict home, this included clothes.  Part of the reason was because my Momma grew up in a Holiness (super conservative Christian denomenation) home.  More extreme Holiness churches don't allow women to: wear shorts (even long ones), cut their hair, wear make up, or have a voice in church; my mother didn't go to quite that conservative of a church, but still very legalistic. Growing up, I had to go through hell to get clothes.  There was a whole process of purchasing clothes that included: bending over to see if you could see my 'butt' (it really was just my back, but my mom called it 'butt'), making sure the clothes didn't show my figure, pulling my pants up to my bellybutton (which made me look like a freak because my legs are a majority of my body), not wearing anything that would suggest I was homosexual (whatever that means), not wearing anything that made me look pagan (yea, I'm being serious), not wearing anything that would

I'm not the type of person that really misses people or things or places.  I'll be moving back to Charlotte in a few days and I am more excited than I think I have ever been.  I really love my community there. As everything is wrapping up at work and I'm avoiding packing at home, I'm met with these strange emotions.  I think, because I don't have a job lined up in Chartlotte, I feel like something big is gonna happen when I return to Charlotte.  I'll get a job, I'll have to.  I'll be moving into this amazing house with these phenomenal women (I'm beside myself with excitement for that) and I'll be back at my Charlotte church with my community of friends whom I love so dearly and pretty much wanna spend every waken moment with.  But I have a life here, in Greensboro, as well.  This time when I leave Greensboro, I won't come back for another school year or for another job.  I am for real leaving Gboro! I think I feel the anticipation of my

So today I had a brief impromptu lesson on why I am a Miss and not a Missus, and when it's appropriate to call woman Miss or Missus.  The kids 1)didn't know what to call me (Miss or Missus) and 2)were puzzled as to why I do not have a Mister (they were actually quite concerned).  This reminded me of something that happened Friday; yearbook distribution party was this past Friday and the chorus teacher and I were in charge of the music (of course). So there I was, sitting there being bored and signing the occasional  yearbook when one of my students (6th grade boy) walked up to me and addressed me as Mr . Henderson.  I corrected him and politely explained that I am a woman therefore I am a Miss.  He said 'oh' and finished whatever he was talking about.  He then returned shortly (I couldn't get rid of him) and called me Mr. Henderson again .  I corrected him and repeated myself about why I am a Miss and not a Mister.  I decided to make sure he really got it; I point

Have you ever met one of those vegetarians who are super finicky.  You know the kind who: ask/read what's in everything they eat, won't even use the same sponge or utensils that have made contact with meat, won't let you drink from their cup/straw or put your mouth on their food because they don't want your meaty mouth to touch their stuff, gets queasy when they smell cooking meat or hear of animals being killed, or who have you try their food because they can't remember how meat tastes and they suspect their food to be contaminated with it.  You know who I'm talking about?...If you know me, then you know someone like that. I started my official 'journey to vegetarianism' (sounds super lame) in eighth grade, shortly after I had become a Christian.  Initially, I still ate chicken and fish and would still crave burgers and stuff.  But throughout the years I have become more informed and more committed, and 10 years later, I am a full vegetarian (pescatar

This Sunday, Greensboro church had a guest speaker who spoke from Acts when Paul visited James, made some amends, and made a sacrifice with some Christian Jews.  He told us that a squirrel's heart is the size of a baby's fist and that a big blue whale's heart is the size of a VW Beetle!  He, the speaker, was talking about how Jesus can change the 'size', attitude, and focus of our hearts. A person with a squirrel sized heart isn't happy when others succeed or have good fortune.  But a person with a whale's heart is happy when others are blessed even when they, themselves, are not.  Both James' and Paul's hearts were that of a whale because James didn't get offended when Paul made some corrections and Paul made sacrifices in Jewish tradition when he knew he didn't have to.  They both did this for the sake of the Gospel, for the sake of Love. I have to admit that my heart is feeling a bit squirrelly lately.  I've been feeling sad about

"Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve. Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag.She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow. She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. As