Sunset

You have probably already guessed what inspired this, judging by the title above. I've always loved sunset and dusk, and became even more aware of why this time of day is so special when I was helping at a camp a few weeks ago, and could think of no better way to spend the early evening than quietly watching the sunset among the beautiful setting. So, when I got home, I wrote about it...and this was the result.

Could time remain frozen here? Perhaps the Earth may cease rotating for a brief hour, prolonging this wide painting before my eyes, holding still the canvas which stretches across the horizon, extending its reach behind the distant hills. Even as the colors’ vibrancy slowly fades, peace slowly grows like the shadows cast by enormous pines as they creep ever further ‘cross the open grass. Every living thing appears at rest, though not absent, as they feel their contentedness with the fulfillment of the day. This time is a blessed in-between, filling the gaps between consciousness and unknowing, blazing light and silent darkness, with small signs of life still about, yet none that show anything apart from quiet joy. All things under the sky turn a softer shade of their true color, and are tinted by the reflections of whichever chosen watercolors were used this time in the sky overhead, and gazing about myself, I regret my inability to pause the sun’s downward motion, which has left as quickly as it had risen in the early morning, though am also grateful that I have once again been reminded of why out of all the day, sunset is my favorite.

Losing Confidence

Yet again, I am posting an essay (or whatever one may call it?) that I have already posted on FB before...but, by reposting what I've already shared, I'm hoping to also be able to better explain the story behind the story, or what inspired its existence. This one came into being as a way to show how a lack of confidence affects our decisions (or indecisions), and how confusing and tiring that can be. For me, it's always been hard to distinguish God's voice (I have a LOT to learn in the way of discernment), and many decisions do not come easily because of it. Of course, praying always helps, but it can still be very confusing at times, so that is sort of my own reason for writing it, although it may be taken differently depending on the individual. Sooo..... here it is.

He stood at one side of a bridge, his shoes teetering up and down in uncertainty over the dividing line between damp earth and the first wooden plank. His indecisive nature was the result of a war within him, with both possible choices trying to conquer the majority of ground, each side attempting to win his favor. But this battle had been in motion for an incredibly long time, and went in a sort of back-and-forth direction. Every time he became almost sure of his choice, his mind made up, the opposing side would then advance, causing him to lose faith once again. Eventually, this tug-of-war had resulted in a stalemate, leaving him more confused than ever. Maybe he had taken a wrong turn, and this wasn’t the right bridge. Perhaps he had become lost in the trees a few miles back and should retrace his steps to the last point of decision in his journey. He had already had to cross several bridges, ranging in variance from foot bridges that crossed narrow streams to massive structures that spanned major rivers, and each time he had been unable to come to an immediate decision about whether or not to cross, and had wished that he could return to a more familiar place. Either way, he felt he would be making a mistake, and that he would show little enthusiasm for whichever option he chose. Whether or not he was making the right choice, he knew that each of his steps in either direction would become a question, a worry that he had been wrong. His wavering spirit was becoming overwhelming, and he wanted to recover his confidence, but this confidence always seemed far behind him, only discovered when it was no longer felt necessary. This bridge was no exception, and as he stood there, he thought back over those previously covered. But no matter how much he wanted to , he could not turn around, or move backwards at all for that matter, because while fear and doubt tugged at him in the direction from which he came, his need to keep going pushed him forward with equal strength, so that despite the immense pressure on him, he remained motionless. So for now, he was stuck on the brink; his toes resting on wood, his soles planted in the dirt.

Lilah's Adventure

               

The reason for this short story is simply sentimental. When I was about five years old, I lived in a valley surrounded by beautiful hill/mountain ranges, which were visible from our driveway and front yard. Well, one day I was feeling adventurous and thought it would be oh so fun to explore the "wilderness" of the hills, and to hike over them to the other side (this was partially fueled by stories my grandma would tell me about the trips she had taken with my grandpa, and all of their own hiking experiences). Anyways, I don't remember all of the details, so some things were made up for the sake of the story's being told at all (otherwise there would be huge gaps where my memory lapses). But for the most part, yes, this is a true glimpse into a little girl's imagination. Enjoy! (if possible). But if you find yourself falling asleep, well, I understand and apologize.

                One day many years ago, in early spring when clouds rarely exited the skies, and the buds that were transforming into roses were just beginning to bloom, in a place surrounded by green hills where dogs barked, bells tolled and the smells of flowers, fresh cut grass and hay hung in the air, a child lay sleeping. The sun boldly attempted to push its way through the accumulating grey, and consequently sent soft rays into the child’s bedroom, warming her face and bidding her wake. Lilah peered through the blinds as she sat up, wondering if today would bring blue skies, wind, rain or, as was the recent trend, all three.

                She jumped down from her bed, and ran out the front door to see if Dad had left for work yet, and noting the absence of his car, she concluded that she must have slept late again. Just as she was turning to go back inside, she looked to the left and something caught her gaze. She stared at the hills that she had known her whole life, that had never changed and had probably even been there before she was born. But today they seemed different somehow, smaller. In fact, the longer she looked at them, the smaller they became, until she felt sure that she could easily climb over them in an hour.

It was getting cold outside, so Lilah turned and left to return indoors, but still the thought did not leave her mind; to tell the truth, the thought grew. She started to imagine what could be on the other side of the hills. Maybe there was a dragon, guarding its castle. What if the castle had a princess? Maybe there was an entirely different world waiting to be discovered, and no one knew it. There had to be some secret hidden over there, because on many occasions Lilah had noticed the large amount of clouds over there, even more than were covering the sky over where she lived. Maybe it wasn’t clouds at all, but smoke from the dragon!  When the wind blew, she loved the way the grass bent down, revealing tiny wildflowers. Perhaps over there, where the dragon and the princess live, there were whole fields of these flowers, or even waterfalls with secret caves behind them, and real mermaids! These ideas got bigger and bigger, and soon they got so big that Lilah got another big idea, call it inspiration if you will. She was going to hike there herself. She was going to uncover this unknown place, and take her friends and family there when she returned.

Of course, no one can go on such a big journey without careful planning. Lilah spent an entire afternoon thinking about what she would need to take with her. She had hiking shoes from camp last summer, and was relieved that they still fit. She would also need to take water, graham crackers and pb&j sandwiches. She wasn’t exactly sure now how long this trip would take her. She had initially believed that an hour would suffice, but now, looking at how steep these hills were in places, she doubted she could fit such an adventure into such a short amount of time. Not to mention the time she would spend there, in that mysterious place. She would probably need a jacket. And a sleeping bag. Come to think of it, a tent would be great too.

 While she was dreaming, imagining what a spectacular adventure she was about to embark upon, Dad’s car pulled into the driveway. That’s it! She knew she was forgetting something. She would need his help, not only with getting supplies together, but also for his permission. She could only imagine the trouble she would be in if she went on such a perilous journey without asking, even though she was doing it in the name of discovery.

She ran up the walkway, nearly leaped over the front step and followed her dad inside, all the while explaining her plans, and that she just needed him to allow her to go. Dad looked thoughtful, as if contemplating whether it was a good idea for a 5 year old girl to travel to unknown magical lands by herself. He seemed to reach a conclusion, and told her that she could go, but she would have to wait until she was a grown up. Lilah sighed. Well, this definitely put a damper on things. Here she was, all excited about the prospect of being a pioneer in new territories, a discoverer of new things, and an adventurer to the unknown and she had to wait until she was all grown up. She proceeded to ask her dad how long until then, and he told her she would be a grown up at age 18. Lilah sighed. That was so far away! But in the meantime, she would fill her days with adventures a little closer to home, and see what else she could discover about the world right around her. “And someday,” she promised herself, “ I will climb those hills. When I’m 18, I’m going to see the princess.”

The Wrong Fit

I posted this essay on FB a while back, about a month ago, and before I share it I just want to explain its origins/why I wrote it. Like many writings, it can be taken differently (especially the symbolism) by different people. My personal reason for writing it was more of a reflection on past experiences. There's a saying that you've probably heard at least once before: "The grass is always greener on the other side." Well, from my perspective, I used to think that the average person my age, their daily routine, in other words, their "normalcy" was something that I really wanted. When I was younger, I was unable (as well as somewhat unwilling) to look beyond what is considered a "normal" life in our society, and to realize that  although my situation, (my school, home and social lives) are not exactly what I would think of as absolutely "normal" or average, really it's where God has me, it's my life, and I don't think any other would "fit" me, as although many doors are closed through it, just as many are opened by God, giving me opportunities to serve Him and to be who I'm supposed to be despite the different setting. As I grew up, I finally realized that the "shoe just doesn't fit," and that I'd wasted time I could have spent learning and growing into who I am, instead of who I wished I was. For others, the shoe may mean something else, but the same question remains: Is the "glass slipper" on the shelf really meant for you? And is it worth it?


 She tilted her head upward, gazing once again upon the glass slipper that she had at one time admired, but now had lost all reverence for. She had heard terrific stories about such objects, glamorous tales aimed to convince the listener that possessing one would be the beginning of an entirely different life, and would lead to a “happily ever after.” The slipper had not been cheap, however, and she had paid dearly for it, certain that it would be worth the price to wear a fairy tale. But she had not been surrounded by magic or filled with joy when she tried it on for the first time. Rather, disappointment had plagued her as she tried without success to place her foot into it. After hours of determined shoving and pulling at the shoe, she had finally become weary of the struggle and had given up, forcing herself to accept the fact that it would never fit her; that it was not the right size. Exhausted and disgruntled, she had placed her treasured item on a high shelf, a combination of longing and awe flowing through her with every glance in its direction. But months had now gone by and the wonder that had possessed her as she had beheld it for the first time had slowly faded, and as dust had collected on the inside of the shoe a faint sense of loathing had built up inside of her, so that now every time she strode past the place where it was kept, or her eyes went briefly over it from across the room, she felt only failure for never having achieved what she had hoped for so much, and regret over the time and effort wasted because of its presence. Now she reached above her head, lowered the slipper to eye level, and with her hand, brushed off the worst of the dirt. Again she noticed its smoothness, its perfect shape and the way it sparkled as the sunlight coming through the window penetrated it. However, this time she saw something else as well; it was useless, and of absolutely no value to her. It served no purpose as it stood idly before her, the source of nothing but silent taunting. At this, she may have thrown the shoe against a wall in anger, or returned it to its shelf in denial, but did neither. Instead, she allowed it to slip slowly from her fingers, feeling the freeing release wash over her as it touched the ground and shattered.

So, I started a blog.

In retrospect, I am giving myself a facepalm, and wondering why in the world I almost called this blog what I did. If you must know, I came very close to naming it "Writings of a Homeschooled Pastor's Kid." But after mulling it over, I figured that a blog should reflect a person, and how they see themselves, and realized that when I describe myself, a "homeschooled pastor's kid" is one of the last facts about me that I would use. Put simply, yes, that's what I am, but no, it's not WHO I am...so, in lieu of that terrible idea, my blog is called "Generational Misfit," and I shall explain that presently. I'm kind of a traditional girl, but by that I don't mean to give the impression that I have extremely conservative beliefs.(My views on many things are actually fairly liberal, within the boundaries of my faith.) But I am a bit old-fashioned style-wise, and love taking the time to enjoy the simpler things in this life. In essence, contrary to much of Gen Y, I'd rather not spend my free time at the mall, or at a movie theatre, or really inside any city building(Yes, those things are fun on occasion, but not something I'd hope to do very often.) Instead, the perfect day for me includes any or all of the following: my fave music, reading, music, going for a long walk, music, baking and music. I also love wrapping up in a quilt of an evening, sitting by an open window (especially if it's raining), sipping tea or hot chocolate and reading by candlelight. In a nutshell, sometimes I think I was born in the wrong time period, even though I know God has me here for a reason. I'm also a bit outdoorsy, and don't think I'll ever outgrow climbing trees, romping in the mud, or dancing in the rain (when no one's looking ;-) ) Anyways, you should also know that if I seem a bit random in my future posts, it's because, by nature, I am. Randomness and dorkiness seem to go hand-in-hand and I am living proof of that. But basically, I would much rather "think out loud" here, "ramble," if you will, than end up talking to myself (because some would consider that insanity). So...yeah. I guess that's all for now.