track ten

some airlines have this new feature where you can see how much time is left in your flight. I am sure that this was meant to be a helpful tool, however when 5 months separate you from home, watching the countdown was less than beneficial for my mental state.
a kind soul made me a CD for my trip home. as to help calm my nerves and as soon as i saw, "4:22 till final destination", i turned my iphone up all the way.
i would bet money that i have never heard of any of the artists who preformed the 14 tracks i had on shuffle, but i felt safe.
i was thinking about how i felt the last time i left California to fly to Lancaster.
i was full of sorrow, questions, anxiety & hurt.
the day i left i cried on my couch for nearly an hour before we went to the airport.
after watching my uncle pass away i developed a fear that i would have everyone i love taken from me. i didn't want to leave.
as i sat in 28C willing to bargain with the man in front of my to put his chair up so i could sleep, i thought about where i am now. other than above the middle of the United States with nearly 3 hours left till landing, i realized i am in a very similar place. still full of anxiety and hurt. anger and sorrow. but i am also full of a very paralyzing hope.
a hope that sometimes chokes fear from me & leaves me feeling abandoned...not as if i had been dropped off at a safe haven as an infant, but the feeling of emptiness.
and the awareness that something will fill this.
something much greater than i can imagine.
as a believer i have struggled with how to manage emotions. this probably has something to do with my stubborn nature and the fact that i am a full believer in wholly feeling. embracing every side of what you feel and processing that. and not falling into the trap of "choosing joy" and in doing so benching every other feeling. authenticity & vulnerably. weeping. begging God to show Himself to you. instead of coloring in the lines and forgetting that your heart is actually broken.
we hit turbulence and my eyes flew open. the man next to me asked if i was okay.
"no, but that's okay".
he laughed.
"at least you're confident in your insecurities...if that makes sense"
it does.
it completely does.
there were 30 min left and i put on my favorite song...it choked me.
"somehow the wonder of life always prevails...the wonder of life always remains"
home.
drinking coffee from my favorite mug & in reflection i see answered prayers in lancaster, and in this house...in this town...i see answered prayers.

sunshine and rain

i sat in night class and wanted nothing to do with the subject matter.
james sat beside me and tried to get me to eat.
i wanted nothing to do with that either.
i wanted to curl up at home and cry.
i wanted to collapse.
i wanted coffee.
i wanted clarification.

i began to wrestle with God through prayer the whole drive home.
i texted my cousin a comment i had been replaying in my mind all week
"i think i have a hard time distinguishing what is my whale and what is the fact that Nineveh is just a shitty place"
what happens in this world because we disobey...because we are being punished.
&
what happens because we are living in a fallen world.
her response reached me on my lunch break.
"i dont really believe God punishes us. because i think that things are just SO different than in the old testament. but i do believe sometimes when we are squeezing our eyes shut to what Jesus is saying, sometimes He takes us by the shoulders and shakes us to get our attention and that--that can be painful"
i was about to pay for a hot dog and i froze.
i think my eyes have been shut.
i think i'm very angry.
and i think i'm very,very hurt.

refusing to surrender past pain and heartache.
clinging to the safety of worry and anxiety, because at least there is then an excuse for paranoia.
these words stung my soul.
they convicted me and showed part of who God is to me again.
psalms 34 says, "i sought the Lord and required him and he heard me, and delivered me from all my fears"...
i haven't been seeking.
i haven't been requiring.
i haven't been even speaking lately.
and that is losing.
that is allowing yourself to be defeated by Nineveh.

i have been challenged to find sunshine in my life.
little things.
big things.
people.
moments.
memories.
there will always been sunshine...even during storms.
even inside of the whale.
and even while Nineveh swallows you whole,
there is always Sunshine.



"as sure as the dawn breaks,
so sure is his daily arrival"

moments

sifting through old poems, love notes, homework lists and dreams i have had in the past, i found this...
i wrote this july 16th last summer.
i honestly do not know what was happening when i wrote it.
i dont remember where i was or why i decided i need to but i did.
and the emily of november 2nd needed the emily from july 16th so very much today.


moments

"I don’t know much about life, I really don’t.

Young, naive, ignorant.

The list can go on as long as you please.

However, I have learned a few things.

You must never forget the importance of sleeping late.

Never stay somewhere that you feel uncomfortable, life is about stretching, but know your boundaries.

Remember memories from 6 years ago and tell those people who are in your flashbacks that you miss them.

Seek out maturity in friendships, but never go a day without laughter.

Hug, even if it hurts you.

When you see the one who broke your heart, be thankful that you’re not still bound to them.

Miss a few classes and spend time with those who you want to.

Allow belly laughs to interrupt conversations.

Oh, darling—take too many pictures.

This life we live is but a breath.

When you are abused by reality and tears scale down your cheeks,

Remember to always speak your heart.

Always.

It stings sometimes, more than you realize or have ever asked for,

But the scars you wear can be times of pure triumph.

These are the moments that one day are memories.

Just never allow one to destroy you.

Never."

"You say move on...where do I go?"

I sat in Starbucks for hours yesterday.
I wrote papers, filled out assignments and did bookwork. And my cousin called me.
We talked about everything from Emoji frustration to how extremely important Christmas gift giving is.
Early is not early enough.
I sat at the counter and told her about grad school and internship.
We quoted The Office and compared friends.
She challenges me to find my sunshine.
She's a voice that says do it.
She's the voice that says make a memory.
She's a voice that understands when no one else does.

I hung up and she went to Great America.
As I drove back roads Katy played a very relatable song.
I got home and cleaned my room.
I read and got ready for the week ahead.

erin text me "sometimes he wrings the worship out of you".
I remember sitting in Hollees with her a few weeks ago.
She told me that when something devastatingly difficult happened in her life someone had told her "you'll be able to use this heart ache to help someone in the future".
She said she didn't want that.
No one wants that amidst heart ache and break.
But God knew I needed her.
He knew as her bravery became a way of life mine would be deteriorating.
She can be my angel because she has walked through the fires.

I have been challenged by these two lately. 

On how to love more directly. 

On how not to redirect conversations to myself. 

On how to be authentic. 

They both genuinely want me to be okay. 

I want to love like them. 

We should be less interested in molding someone else's heartbreak into a story from our past & be more concerned with how to walk along  the hurting. 

I witness selfless love from these two. 

I have never been thankful for someone experiencing a similar brand of hurt as me, but without their pasts, I wouldn't be as poured into now.

I wouldn't be as loved & I wouldn't feel as validated. 

Learning to use our heartbreak to comfort is uncomfortable and so beautiful.

What you see

You have sad eyes.

Eyes that have seen sights they shouldn't have. 

Eyes that have lied and asked for forgivness. 

Eyes that have begged others to ask if you're alone. 

You have sad eyes. 

Concealer comes from Sephora and 

in the shape of "I am so exhausted" 

You roll your sad eyes and pretend they're tired.

You have tired eyes. 

Eyes that have become too familiar with excuses. 

With watching your body believe lies.

Eyes you demand to stop 

When they're pouring.

You have tired eyes. 

Isolation & confusion 

will only nourish you for so long. 

Your eyes are tired. 

Your eyes are sad. 

You really are exhausted. 

So open your lonely eyes. 

You have loving eyes. 

"one day you will[believe it's okay]and one day it'll all be really, truly in the past. God's doing a new thing." 

"Find your sunshine...No matter what that is"

"I'm praying for you lots. I have already seen a new found confidence in you this semester that pretty much hella excites me, because I know God is working on your part"

You have loving eyes. 

Eyes  that though they have not seen what yours have, cry for you. 

Eyes that can't distinguish lies, but live for you. 

You have loving eyes. 

Open them and see. 

page 308

i bought a new book and it reminds me of
you
and you
and you

flashbacks and a relapse

the hurting
the loving
the breaking
the healing

chapters glued together
with
stories
i thought she wrote about me

all four showed me moments
memories
faces
and you

i found myself on the pavement
attempting to be whole
bending so i don't break:
nocturnal yoga

attempting to find which chapter i am in
i wonder when the breaking ends
when the healing
begins

moments and memories made
show me to flip between two:
healing and breaking
to live between chapters

because flashbacks & a relapse.
because paranoia & heartbreak.
no one has that power, not even
you

Things I wish someone would have told me

Find agencies or products that support causes you're passionate about & donate to them. 

Roll down your windows more. 

Dance in your car even when people are watching. 

There is a way to speak your mind without being rude, find that way. 

Listen to sad music when you're sad. 

Go outside more, just always carry a jacket, socks and bug spray. 

Be the driver that lets cars over when merging. 

Always get souvenirs. 

Read more poetry. 

Have a favorite song. 

Walk behind cars when crossing a crosswalk. 

Tell you Bestfriend you love them. 

Find something you're good at & do it often. 

Find something you're bad at & get better. 

Make time for coffee in the morning. 

Write more handwritten notes. 

Buy the stranger in line behind you coffee. 

Buy underwear when you're sad.

Send birthday cards to people even when it's not their birthday. 

Don't say you love him if you don't.

Thank professors more often. 

Pray out loud.

Always wear Chapstick. 

Keep a list of compliments you've received & retread them when you're dark. 

Avoid describing yourself as "busy" even when you're busy.

Crying is so good for you. 

Donate clothing you don't need. 

Check the air in your tires. 

Save your leftovers when you're in the city: give them to someone who didn't eat.

Laugh. 

Don't turn in work late. 

Call your grandparents weekly. 

Don't get pressured into falling in love. 

Make lists of what you're thankful for. 

Stop exaggerating. 

Look up statistics about issues you care about. 

Don't let people make you drink tea. 

Ask your waiter or barista how THEY are. 

Thank people for their honesty. 

Visit more cemeteries. 

Doodle more. 

Take more photos. 

Ask for help & call your mom more often. 

September 7th

We dance.

Around the topic of depression. The abuse of medicine and the times we hold the toilet as safety and in silence. 

We slip. 

Past the reason we even came together. Down the side of a mountain we hoped one day to have conquered: self-image. 

We deny. 

Ever feeling little, even though we are all desperate for anyone to tell us our worth. 

We hurry. 

Past compliments and around conversations that make us feel uncomfortable. Through the moments that could be memories. 

We cry. 

For others who are selflessly asking for help. Over the moments we never took for what they were worth. Alone, because isolation heals faster than speaking up. 

We break. 

Over and over again without even knowing because, in fact, isolation and silence are stronger than we will ever admit 

tenth.

october. 

10. 

only two more months left. 

october. 

5. 

i can picture the hospital room like it was yesterday. 

october. 

fall & pumpkins. 

papers & projects. 

deadlines & internship. 

october. 

tomorrow we meet & i have just one favor. 

help me see beauty more than i did in september. 

help me believe in myself like i do others. 

but, september, thank you. 

thank you for the breakdowns and panic attacks. 

for the tears and times i locked myself in a bathroom stall just to be alone. 

thank you for the coffee with loved ones & prayers answered. 

but october, 

i promise to make the most of you. 

to sip on my lattes & turn in papers on time. 

to be fearless of hydroplaning but drive the speed limit

to capture moments that capture my attention &

to be fully here in 

october. 

thanks, September...you have shown me so much. 

Thursday

I wrote and presented a poem
I didn't care about in a class I didn't care about
& I didn't care that anyone liked it.
I would have told you
but you're gone & we don't speak anymore.
So I'll tell your ghost.
I'll tell your ghost that my love for writing
apparently held its breath as I had an assignment in Children's Literature.
That sometimes I see the future me
& i'm happy.
I'll tell your ghost that I wear dress pants every day
& that I miss jeans.
I'll tell him I actually like my internship
& feel like a real life social worker.
Your ghost would tell me you're proud of me.
I'd tell him I felt ugly today.
Not worthless. But just ugly.
 He'd tell me he's never seen someone as pretty as me
& kiss my forehead.
But that's only his opinion.
& he's just a ghost.
I would have told you but you're gone & we don't talk anymore.
So I'll just tell your ghost instead.

Venti Iced Coffee With 2 extra shots

My birthday cake cakepop melted but the feeling of sunshine is worth it. 

I have a 30 min break on Mondays in between internship and work. It's 74 degrees & my iced coffee is chilling my body from the inside out. The perfect compromise as I sit at a Starbucks and soak up free time. It's the perfect time to reply to day old California texts and reflect. 

Today at internship someone told me I had kind eyes. I also was given more responsibility than I knew I deserved. I'm practicing real-life social work & that's perfectly terrifying. Mainly because I absolutely love it. 

God has a funny way of demanding my trust & rewarding that free fall with the most perfect gifts. I see that so clearly in my life. I'm learning a lot about God these days and I have come to the conclusion He is more loving than I had believed in the past. "God flabbergasted us"- Kelly said in reference to a challenge she was walking along side me in. He really did. 

Today my supervisor told me I speak very elegantly and asked if I liked writing. I laughed and then wanted to cry a little. My coffee is empty and work starts soon. Monday nights are Gilmore Girls nights & I have a feeling I'll need McDonald's. 

Gods blessings are everywhere--even in people's words. In alone time. In melted pastry products and in trials. 

stream of consciousness as a senior

I got my nails done today & wore a dress to work. I feel like I look like an adult yet all my insides scream a deep seeded desire to be in high school. I got sick last night and wanted my mom. Happy birthday, Norma. I did homework with my best friend today and we didn't exchange more than 40 words. Someone told me today they appreciated his & my friendship. I cried on the way home because he's changed my world. I need him and his reminders to be stronger than I'm acting & braver than my fear. I was uncomfortable tonight. Mainly because I had a meeting where the fact I'm a senior was brought to my attention. I lost my appetite then craved a latte. Maybe being an adult means it's okay to eat a whole jar of Salsa Con Queso in one sitting. Or to know all the lyrics to too many Drake songs. Maybe that's just what keeps me sane. I slouch too often & wish I had whiter teeth. I can't remember the last time I wore jeans and that makes me sad. Again. Screaming for high school rather than dress pants. Someone on the same floor of the library as me wore your cologne. You were my first boy friend and back then I hated the gym. You would laugh if you knew me now. I still miss you. Or maybe just high school. Dinner is cold pizza & coffee. I don't wash my face & I'm on season 4 of The Office...my third time this year. Sleeping till 8am is sleeping in and i haven't made my bed all week. Sorry Betsy.  I need to do yoga & I regret blow drying my hair. I day dreamed I was still dating an ex. Time, they said. That's all I needed. I think they've never lost something if they think all that is needed is time. Hurting people hurts your soul too. I need to remember to floss more often & pray out loud.

I got my nails done today & wore a dress to work. 

I miss high school & not feeling like an adult. 

But I'm in love with the life I have, graduated from high school and all. 

Darkenss

I walk down the sidewalks of my new little town. Ivy and flowers crowd the pavement & church bells ring.

It's not that humid today & I needed fresh air. 

Jesus pandora on and leggings because dress code doesn't apply to the weekends.

 Being alone has been the biggest gift lately.

Time to think, cry & process. 

Time to be authentic with where I am & where I want to be.

I ran to the cemetery this morning. I don't know why I'm comforted by tombstones but I am. 

To know that the loved ones of all who are buried feel the same empty longing I do, that's comfort. 

This is the first weekend of senior year. I spent it working out, writing, being more spontaneous than I thought possible, thinking, choosing to be intentional. I spent it with souls I cherish. I spent it battling. 

"One week down, 15 more to go"-- that's been my mindset lately and I hate it.

I had a conversation about this the other day...about being stuck. It's hard. It's discouraging. To feel like you honestly don't remember how to breathe. Like its something that mental thought and discipline are needed in order for it to happen...Someone told me recently I changed. Well thank God. Because if death and heartbreak don't change someone I'm concerned about the state of their soul. How deeply they're letting themselves love & feel.

But what these two demons can do is miraculous. 

They can teach us to be gentle. To be aware of others who are also fighting just to inhale. To make more of every day, even if you're stuck...scared...paralyzed. 

They are teaching me to see good,true and real gifts. 

8 Amish buggies passed me on my walk, I probably have ten or more bug bites & I'll need to shower again, but processing is key. 

Going toe to toe with the darkness instead of sinking under. 

Oceans Deep

The song Oceans by Hillsong  played at my freshman orientation of college.
I remember it so clearly. My mom and I were sitting in the chairs of chapel, left front. We all stood to sing & I couldn't stop my tears. I held my moms hand & sang, "spirit lead me where my trust is without borders"

For the 18 year old Emily, that meant going to school in a tiny Amish farmland community & leaving behind sunny California to major in Social Work. A choice She was thrilled about...contrary to many people's opinion. It meant crying herself to sleep because She was so homesick. It meant cookie-care packages & Easter baskets in Fed-Ex envelopes. 

After packing my belongings and transferring to Simpson this song continued to be played often. It suddenly was like a motto. I remember standing by Kelsey one day in the back of the gym "take me deeper than my feet could ever wander"... We were all learning how to process change and growth. 

As a sophomore this meant leaving behind LBC memories and making new ones in 100 degree weather. It meant a music class that I hated and boys who taught me a lot about myself. It also brought promise because home was a short 5 hour drive away.

The next year as I flew back to the east coast this song had gained a place in my heart. "Your grace abounds in deepest waters"...I was drowning and needed this reassurance. Molly would send me screen shots of her Jesus Pandora whenever the song played. It reminded her of me. It reminded me of His love for me...no matter the mistakes, hurt or heart break. 

I sat holding Betsy's hand, tears streaming down our cheeks. Auntie and uncle Ted had their fingers laced & the song came on. She forced her eyes open and said "this has been Ted's prayer the whole time he's been fighting cancer, but sometimes I don't want to go deeper than my feet could wander."  

One of my last memories with him is this song. 

My last year of undergrad starts tomorrow. Trauma, heartbreak, sorrow, laughs, memories & teachable moments have all happened surrounded by this song. I don't wish to go deeper than my feet would want...but if you call me out on the waters, I will call upon Your name & rest in Your embrace. 

I am Yours & You are mine. 

Beautiful

I sat in the Victoria's Secret changing room and wiped the tears off of my sunburned cheek.
I was so disappointing in my fitting results.
Frustrated, i looked in the mirror.
moving different areas of my skin, flexing my biceps, counting pimples and fixing my sock bun.

Maybe that's too much information, but i believe most of us do it. Male or female.
We compete. We compare.
Men don't have to compete with the Angels, but they do have washboard models to go up against.
We are too busy noticing flaws in our own lives to see that what we have, others might dream of.

I sent 2 photos in a group chat, one was of beautiful & elegantly positioned yoga pro, one was of me trying to imitate the pose.
i titled the pro, "dream" and myself, "reality".
Their reply really humbled me.
"your reality might be someone else's dream!"

I flashed back to my fitting begging the beautiful employee to read me a combination of number and letters i wanted to hear. I know many girls who wish to have fuller chests. I know people who have had operations, spent thousands of dollars to change that aspect about themselves.

I have seen the importance lately of loving yourself. Physically, emotionally and spiritually. Do whatever it takes to be okay. You will not find the security or safety from anyone other than yourself. Healing and acceptance comes from within. When you choose to honestly believe you are "fearfully and wonderfully made".

Sometimes your worst enemy is yourself. This isn't poetic or beautifully written in the slightest, but i hope it is somewhat eye-opening.
love you,
love your "flaws"...because sometimes what you consider to be a flaw is what others are working so hard to obtain.
Don't ever stop working to be the best you can be,
but while doing so, negative self talk with get you absolutely nowhere.

love yourself, beautiful.

Soon.

I called my papa today.

He asked me about work. I told him I didn't want kids. He told me he bet me 10$ I would change my mind. 

He was in his wife's hospital room. 

She was falling asleep. 

I told him about my apartment next year & the job I have in PA. 

He told me gardening is so much harder to do with a dislocated shoulder. I told him to make a piña colada & stop gardening. He laughed, "oh Emily Jo" 

He asked about boys & I told him the truth. He told me i should be with a man who makes me forget i attract losers. 
He told me to stop tanning & eat more veggies. 

I told him about my biggest dreams. And that I don't really have fun anymore. He said he doesn't either. He asked about a job after college. 

"Grad school" I answered & he said "what's your plan after that?" 

I told him I knew exactly what I wanted & he laughed 
"oh Emily Jo...tell me your plan & we will see if it comes true" 

I rattled off & told him not to doubt me. 

After telling him where I saw myself in 4 years his voice cracked 
"your uncle had the same ambition you do. Don't ever let that go." 
He told me stories of how Ted never gave up & knew what he wanted.
 "He was focused" 

It was silent and we both cried. 

"I love you, pop" 

"Oh Emily Jo, I love you" 

He then told me Jean, his wife, was asleep.
She doesn't know who he is anymore.
She hasn't for a few weeks. 

"Emily Jo, marry someone who you love so much that you'll want to sit beside their bed even when they don't recognize you anymore"

His physical therapist was calling & he had to transfer calls. 

"I love you, Emily, let's talk again soon"  

fireworks, tea & chapter books

i drove to kelly's house with all my windows down. there was a motorcycle in front of me and the passenger was a woman, driver a man. she raised her arms in the air and made two peace signs. I could hear her screaming as we drove down the road. I was in the straight lane and they were turning. i smiled as she sang over the noise of the bike.

"Happy fourth, Beautiful. Enjoy life & be free"

they drove off and soon my light changed and i made it to kelly's.
As i entered her house the topic of discussion was caner.
one i try with all my might to avoid. yet some how it is everywhere.
even on my favorite television shows.
i think when you decide to ignore reality, He chooses to show you how ignorant that is.
i sat down at the kitchen table with a dreadful headache trying to inhale my coffee before the fireworks started.
we all made our way out to the front yard and watched the deep, blue sky become a stage for thousands of loud, bright dancers. chaos and smoke blended together and we call this freedom.

the words of that woman celebrating from yesterday stuck with me. this looks so different for different people. right now enjoying anything is an effort. the night i curled up on auntie's couch in the tucked away living room i couldn't have imagined what this life would looks like.
i held one of her blankets over my face and inhaled. its as if memories and life became a smell and my nose let me take a journey back. that blanket smelled safe. i hugged it so tightly as i prayed "i cant even find words. Protect us please."
the quilt on my bed is less comforting than the cream-colored knit blanket from june, but this morning it was enough. today i tried my best to enjoy life. writing. reading. outside. bright colors and kombucha tea. my muscles hurt from working out too hard and my skin face is warm from the sun. my hair is messy from the wind and my room is finally clean. to enjoy life is a large and daunting task. little moments. chapter by chapter.
allowing the dark, blue background that is life to host chaos & reality in a way that is freedom.  to be intentional.

Nothing means so much

yesterday i sat in a movie theater and watched The Rock skydive into AT&T park and save his family from the biggest recorded earthquake ever.
i sat beside beautiful C. we went to breakfast together & then i made her come to the grocery store with me.
it was a good distraction. we talked about crushes and split ends, work & how i am a bad driver. nothing.
As i sat in the green chair eating pink Sour Punch Straws i watched all of California get completely destroyed. as the story continued the skyline of destruction moved to San Francisco. i set my snacks on the floor and silently allowed tears to hit my thighs exposed in my holey jeans. i hate this city. i hate this skyline. those buildings and roads. colorful houses and one way streets. i hate it all. as the plot thickened i stopped crying, i guess The Rock was a good distraction. C and i kept a running commentary and i am sure that the other patrons were thrilled with our input.
after the movie and groceries i dropped C off and cried all the way home.
we are all at different stages at life.
we all need a love that is on fire. authentic. real.
but we also all need time to just heal. to not be okay.
after all the groceries were away & i had tried to eat something healthy, my kelly came over.
i made coffee and we sat in the kitchen.
we talked about ex's and the future and fear & how i just wanted to be done with school.
heavier nothingness.
betsy joined us and our laughter was too loud so we relocated to the living room.
mitchell wandered in & at was soon 11:30pm.


yesterday was full of a lot of purposeful nothingness. watching the city that wrecked my life get destroyed was so healing. i have a serious hatred built up toward the home of the Giants and watching tsunamis & quakes cause it to be ground 0 was therapeutic. I'm learning the importance of seeing the emotions your feel. see what you're swimming through & be okay with the fight. make lists. have accomplishments. get ahead in your summer school class. embrace. 

write. 

love.

& see the value in sweet nothings  

Perfectly okay

my vision blurred & it was difficult to breathe. 

"Control" is a foreign idea to me these days. 

Moving. Mourning. Adjusting. Consoling. Healing. Growing. 

A lot.

Balance and honesty without self-induced isolation. 

Solidarity with your emotions & allowing everything to come and go as it must. 

Writing. Reading. Crying. Talking. Thinking. Hoping. 

It all. 

I laced up my shoes & started down the ally. Channeling emotion productively is something Dondre taught me. My black Nikes hit the concrete one after another & I felt entirely alone. 

There was silence through my headphones & then these words drifted through

"When the pieces seem too shattered

To gather off the floor

And all that really matters

Is that I can't feel You anymore

Is that I don't feel You anymore

I need a reason to sing"

Again, it was difficult to breathe. 

Being scared & worried & isolated & hurt...being all of these things, when really I can't find anything to matter. The fact that i matter to the One who has the whole World in His hands, that matters. 

& it's okay that it's difficult to breathe. 

It's perfectly okay. 

Sea salt sadness

"But hiding is such a lonely thing to do"

it's deep and dark here. 

The City lights are underwhelming & I could vomit. 

Chaos & life didn't pause for us. They continue as i sit in a windowsill on floor 14. 

So many different states, counties & families all make up my family. 

Eclectically beautiful. 

The waiting room has been dominated by his loved ones. It's beautiful. Beta's laugh bursts throughout the whole hall.

Mom is doing homework, empty coffee cups line the room & a round of bull shit spills over the table while distractions become entertainment. 

I see my sweet, sweet aunt. 

I've decided that if I can grow into a fraction of who she is, I will be overly satisfied. 

I want to love like her. Hope like her. Trust like her. I wish I loved reading like her. 

Her being is a testament of true love. 

I have been having flashbacks all day. Today, as I walked around the corner of a hallway I heard "hey kid"... The words I needed. The soul I needed. Years have passed, we are very different than the little rascals catching tadpoles & playing Play Mobiles in the red, auburn dirt. Time does a lot to people, but the safety I felt through those words...They embodied family. 

Time passes, people grow, people do change, but love lasts. 

It's dark and cold and beautiful.  

No place I'd Rather Be

"But it was life to life, not life to death" her closest and dearest women sat around a table for 6. As 12 chairs crowded around the cafeteria table I pulled my knees close. My leggings smelled like airplane & tears tasted like salt. 

I looked around the table and saw familiar faces and new faces. All so full of love. 

As she poured her heart out over our leftover chipotle someone chimed in "you sound strong. Those words sound strong"...there was silence & only praise to The Giver of Life left her lips. 

I heard stories of while I've been away. Hard stories of conversations with doctors & moments that the family has titled "God kisses". I'm so fond of that. 

These are the people someone needs. The people who will drop all they have to be with someone who just needs their energy. Their positivity & laughter. Normalcy. Day-to-day. 

I looked across the way and saw my best friend. My go to, my person. My sister is so brave. 

We were dancing and singing all up the 101 North as we drove to a now familiar place: the hospital. 

She shared frustrations with me about people complaining. The little things in life that we deem as our End Alls mean nothing once you take an elevator to the ICU. They mean nothing when you sit in a waiting room full of souls from near and far all here because of raw, hopeful love. They mean nothing. She is 17. She is brave. 

I think my whole family is, really. 

As we sat in the sea foam green waiting room tonight and I texted my cafeteria table ladies I realized how powerful love is. How breathtaking love is. How important love is. We, as humans, need love. 

Don't hold back love. Don't wait for love. Give love. Give love in such a genuine way that people notice that you're different. That you have a Love like no other. 

My family is so brave. Brave because He gives life. He gives freedom when there are shackles binding you to depression, hopelessness & fear. 

Be brave. 

Be strong. 

Desperation and separation lead to conviction

Your words are like rusty razors.

They cut me exposing raw, vulnerable skin but also leave an orange residue that will infect me. 

These veins will heal over & I'll think I forgot, but the words you spoke over me are embedded in my bloodstream. 

Like I'm over this

&

the scar has faded but your voice still haunts every cell count that's counted. 

Rushing through telling me

there's 

no 

purpose. 

My mind is held captive & "stage four" is a virus built coffin, chemo are its nails & radiation the dirt. 

You claimed you were an angel & promised life with one bite. 

You opened this door & drove 3 nails into that t-shaped coffin. 

Itching & withdrawing from what I thought was light, 

I guess Sometimes we're taken to be proof of the Light. 

becoming sound

the lights passed by as we turned around oh-so familiar curves. the week's wash was in the back and we had turned down our Sam Hunt radio. while waiting to yield we poured out this last semester. strengths, hurts, laughs, and losses.

on shrimp, sweet potato fries and inexpressible happiness i chimed in.

this year has been hard. i think i have broken more times this year than i would have ever imagined. as Kelly and her band of brothers took me to SF international last August i would have never been able to assume what would have happened. 

i have experienced a very specific brand of heart break, i have been an overwhelming kind of homesick, i have become so very comfortable with who i am, i have yelled at God and quickly there after begged Him to just show Himself to me, i have seen love in a raw, selfless way, i have let myself actually burn out, i have felt betrayed and i have found an intense desire to just be alone. 

this year have stretched me academically, emotionally and spiritually. 

isn't that what we are all supposed to feel? 

commemorating events is important to me. as i finished my last final we went out. laughter, friends and good food are all i needed. the feeling of being needed. 

as the evening progressed, i slid a bracelet over my wrist whose message was "healing". it could not be more perfect. through this East Coast fairy tale i am living i have learned the importance of healing.

"the process of making or becoming sound or healthy again"

in every aspect of my life i desire healing. and in more ways that i ever thought i have found healing this year. even in heartache, desperation, betrayal, sickness and soul searching depression, even then there is healing. 

Two thousand, nine hundred & 20 miles

Today is a day completely engulfed in love. Today is a day of promises being fulfilled & a day to realize God never once abandoned me, nor will He ever.

Today I am conflicted between homesickness and contentment. This little Amish state has been so good to me...that's evidence of a promise. Evidence that I haven't been left to fend for myself. I've been given the most spectacular people here. People who love me with a love that shakes my core. Men and women who convict me, care for me, sacrifice for me & value me. People that witness to me & hold me to standards. I see God here even in the darkest of times. I see His plan, step by step...I see why I need Pennsylvania & why He brought me back. 

And then California knocks on my heart. 

Today is a day of healing & a day of miracles. Today is a day full of promise and hope. As I wrestle with the deep anger and desire to be wrapped up in aunties white, linen sheets while snuggled inbetween the very souls that helped shape me I am so content here. My being is split down the center and I'm learning to be okay with that. I'm seeing the power of prayer and intentional behavior. I see the strength that only the Risen King can provide and i feel a very righteous anger toward our fallen state. I see heart break and what I want my marriage to look like: in sickness and in health. I see hurt. I see need. I tried to imagine how Mary felt yesterday, or even the disciples. Hopeful? Angry? Abandoned? Alone...I saw my family. I saw my aunt. I saw my mom. 

Even through our tear stained prayers He hears every word. 

I am confident of that. 

Today I see Easter through a very different lense. I see the desparate importance of family. Of trust. Or surrender...Of complete surrender. 

I see the importance of asking "why" with curiosity and not antimosoty. I see that there was never a promise stating it would be easy, I see that so clearly. But I see that there is a promise of eternal healing, forgiveness, reconciliation and restoration. 

Today is a symbol. Today is the cornerstone. Today is a reminder to fight the fight worth fighting. 

As the holes in His palms stretched and grew, as breathing became more and more difficult, blood running down His forehead, into His eyes and from His side, as the very union between Father and Son was torn, He hung there for me. He hung there for you. 

Today is a reminder of grace unimaginable & love inconceivable. 

Today is a day where love gained its meaning. 

pushing the envelope

Cold & lifeless yet demanding in your absence.
Imaginary shackles have left bruises and im drowning.
Hold my breath in a bathtub because
silence
is obtained when your spirit can hold
water.
In your indecision to admire me i found self-hatred.
"i'll never understand you" i whisper as mascara has more courage than i do.
It runs from where it sits & again i am
naked.
Hatred turned into lust which in
black and white
is synonymous with love.
And like all the stories should have ended
Alone
seems better in the end.

Cheers

Last year when I turned 20 i cried.

"Half way to 40" a dear friend of mine told me a few days prior. 

I cried because I am terrified of growing up. Independence is all I have ever craved yet I am so scared of adulthood. 

Since that dreary day last February I have grown up more than those tears could have ever known. And honestly, I wouldn't like to go back even though it has been a stretching year. Thats the polite way I saying it's been real freaking difficult. 

People have a funny way or making or breaking our lives. And we have a funny way of allowing them. 

Disappointments. 

Surprises. 

Let downs. 

Hand written notes. 

& silence. 

I think the people we surround ourselves with have too much control over our hearts. Or not enough. 

All I want is to be able to look back, on the last 365 days, next year & say that I am confident I did all I could to love where I am at. To embrace heartache, to learn from disappointment, to laugh at the small things & pray no matter what. 

I sat in stats tutoring a few weeks ago frustrated & angry. Profanities colored the air as I contemplated dropping out. My tutor told me something that stuck, 

"The only thing you have control over is your attitude & work ethic" 

So the next year I want to keep both positive. Not only that, but remind myself to think positively. To be up for the challenges. 

Perspective, humility & a grain of salt for my 21rst 

The stop

I moved the dial to the last notch to complete my combination and opened the tiny, golden door.

I saw the backside of a small, white envelope. 

The automatic door behind me had just closed and my calf muscles hurt from being on my tiptoes. I was alone in the mail room as I flipped over the piece of mail to see whom it was from.  

My knees gave out & the back of my coat scraped along every nob as I slid down the faces of strangers mailboxes. My eyes filled up with tears and I sat holding onto the only part I have of you close to my chest with my legs pressed up against my forearms. 

Stupidly happy I wiped away the tears and ripped into the envelope. 

Your messy handwriting made me laugh. All of the sudden I flashed back. I see you sitting in front of me, turning around every time Miss Vandercook faced the board. I was so bad at geometry but you promised to help me. I see lunch time & weekends. I see your small white truck and you sitting across the table from me while I wept & ate too much. I hear your name called and see you walk across the stage. I see your living room as we cleared a space the night you taught me to fight. I see Stanford & IV lines. Diagnosis after diagnosis, you were my constant. I see summer nights and laughter. So much laughter. 

I was brought back to reality when I heard the door open at the other end of the hall. 

I cussed and stood up. 

Wiped my tears and walked to the bathroom. 

I climbed onto the counter and indulged in more tears. 

Boot camp heart break. 

Long distance heart break. 

Growing up heart break.

Heart break. 

You agreed with me that you wish we didn't have to be adults so soon. Let's go back to high school. You're home in 25 days and you're certain North Carolina is a day trip from pa. 

I miss you. So much that I can't think about it or i have episodes like this. I flash back again to all the times I came to you a mess, crying over some boy or some argument.

 I see your bedroom, a disaster, and you taking off your necklace. Your Saint Christopher charm was on a silver chain and you wrapped it around my neck. 

"It'll all be okay, em. I promise you that. 

I tucked the letter in my coat, splashed water on my face & left. 

It'll all be okay. 

Coffee shop Confessions

I stood in the corner of the coffee shop, being bluntly met by the bitter wind periodically due to an odd amount of foot traffic. 

His words spilt over the table as he was open & raw. Transparent & vulnerable. 

We are from two very different walks of life. Passions, desires and goals. Our lists would never have a common bullet point. Yet, as he shared his soul, his bruises and his very heart beat I found it mirrored mine. Different circumstances yet they had molded similar reactions. 

Every time the door opened the back of my legs felt the wind peirce through my dress pants. He continued to share and I was given glimpses into his life. The similarities blinded me momentarily and instead of the Real Feel 3 degrees on my legs all I could feel was the same harbored hurt and simultaneous emotionlessness I have had at the deepest of my being. 

"I'm a mess, it's not pretty at all Emily" 

These words stood out to me and demanded my attention. 

Sometimes, the church gives off the assumption that believers don't have heart break. That they don't have deep, dark scary nights of lonely. 

Assumptions, as we all know don't ever make anyone look respectable. 

Being a mess has a negative connotation. 

Messes are beautiful. Messes mean that you have lived, you have been passionate about something. Perhaps destructive, but your fire is not out. Being a mess means you know there is a better tomorrow. Meeting yourself in the darkest corners--allowing them to take your breath away & being okay. Being okay with not being okay. Being a mess means that you are loving, living & reaping in the rewards and consequences of doing so. 

We are too scared to feel. 

We are too scared to be. 

We are too scared to admit that we are not okay. 

We need to embrace mess. 

We need to love without bounds. 

As we finished our conversation I was convicted to be more transparent. More real. 

Don't be afraid to be a mess. 

It's beautiful, I promise  

12 weeks they feel pain, do you?

We dream.

We dream of a time where rescuing a child from Haiti 

Costs less than killing a baby since "he left me" 

We dream of someone to look beyond the drama 

& to just love this baby momma. 

We dream of a person who will take the "Christian mold" & shatter 

Whatever conservative means. "all hearts that beat should matter"

We dream of being different in other people's lives 

Those mom's hearts broke as they said their goodbyes. 

We need to live in the shadow of grace 

Extend this love as loud as the judgment they face. 

We are to dream & love without bounds.

We are not the jury, judge or High Priest. 

He placed us as light not to condemn or throw mud. 

We dream. 

& she dreams. 

they dreamed & he dreams... 

So let's live like He dreamed. 

Aisle seat

Oxygen masks dropped and I began to uncontrollably vomit. My eyes had rolled back & I lost all control of my body, convulsing. My mom, I can only imagine, thought the worst.

As the mask was secured around my head my breathing began to come back. As the plane glided across the clear blue skies above Nevada the captain came over the loudspeaker. The plane was soon landing. The arrival was just like my seizure, unexpected. 

A team of paramedics awaited in the airlock & I stumbled off the plane. As I watched fluorescent lights pass over me as we rushed through the Southwest wing of the Las Vegas airport I lost the ability to breathe at a normal rate: hyperventilation consumed me. As I was locked into the back of an ambulance the man assigned to me asked me to say my ABC's backward, this was to get my breathing back to a steady pace. I had other plans as I asked him to marry me. My mind was clearly not functioning properly. 

I wish I could say I remember the yellow oxygen mask, seeing my mom cry or even asking someone to spend all of their days with me, however I do not. That's all hearsay, repeated to me from my mom and nurses shortly after I arrived in the ER. 

I can remember that. The curtains were striped. A transparent blue, almost the same color of a Dasani water bottle, and a vibrant pink. Identical to bubblegum. There was a SpongeBob marathon on & my room had a tv. I remember it took 11 tries to get my IV in. I had lost all my liquid while still seated in 23B and had not replenished yet. 

I remember my mom calling the airline and scheduling a new flight home to SJ. I remember the first words she said to me, "baby doll- are you okay? I thought I lost you" verbatim. 

I was so hungry. 

I remember being discharged and not wanting to get back on a plane, I begged for sleep aid & the pleading worked. 

I remember a sweet nurse giving me saltines and a Sprite. I had to throw the Sprite out before Security and I cried. 

I remember going through the airport in a wheel chair because I was so weak i couldn't walk & I remember climbing underneath a row of chairs in our gate to hide from the blinding white lights. 

4 hours. 

A 2 hour plane right & then home. 

I hate flying, and I think the anecdote above explains why. More so, I hate being vulnerable. Releasing control is a difficult task for me, in any area of life. 

As this semester begins I know I'm going to be drowning. I knew this when i submitted my transcripts this summer to go back to LBC. 

Sometimes you have to be pushed around, get lost, and then pull yourself up & realize it will all be okay. 

I believe in the power of laughter & the power of words. They both easily captivate me. 

I want to laugh more this year, no matter how many assignments are due or books needs to be read. I want to never be too stressed to speak truth. I want to keep writing. I want to be faithful to be thankful. 

I don't remember when God intervened and the man in 23D was a doctor. I don't remember the paramedic who talked me down from that personal mountain. I don't remember my moms fear or pain. 

But I can clearly see He had a plan. 

I land in PA at 6 Eastern time and start school on Monday. 

Here's to not seeing the plan but being willing to see the good in it, no matter how badly you just want to cry. 

Laugh a lot. 

Write more. 

Love louder. 

Pray often. 

Seek wisdom. 

2 0 1 5 // second semester.