the ultimate gift.

Qoutelove: Sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast. (Alice in wonderland.)

I never thought that I would live to make it to this day. It all seems so surreal. I mean, in seven hours.. I will be graduating. Yes, I’m writing this at 3am. DON’T JUDGE ME (: haha I can’t sleep. So I thought that I would recap my last four years.. Somehow they slipped by way too fast without me even knowing what was going on. But first, a few thoughts.

1)       Graduation is in 7 hours..

2)      No more school.. (haha summer classes start june 1)

3)      Graduation is in 7 hours.

4)      OH MY GOLLY GUM.. GRADUATION IS IN 7 hours.

5)      .. Was I supposed to iron my tassel lol it’s wrinkly.

6)      I wonder if my cake upstairs is going to be yummy.

7)      What in the sam heck am I going to wear to my party..

8)      I can’t wait to go to church on Sunday.

9)      ..i wonder if I’m going to get there in time for breakfast..

10)    OH NELLIE. I forgot to do the announcements.

FRESHMAN YEAR (:

Wow. Okay, honestly I was lucky. I didn’t have to spend my first few weeks of high school worrying that I would look like an idiot. I went to a Christian school. It totaled out at like 40 people… tops. Lol. But it did give me a different outlook on life so I do appreciate that. (: it was nice. I made friends with all kinds of different people, almost all of which I happened to like. I really loved getting to hear Dilbert Terry preach almost every morning which was nice. It made me smile. Thankfully nothing really embarrassing happened here lol. OH! And I went to the student convention in bowling green, ky. (: and I got 3^rd place in speech (: okay.. I’ll admit there was like 6 people lol but still (: haha I was a champion.. kinda.

         

          SOPHMORE YEAR

Whoa Nellie, hold the horse. SOMEHOW I landed myself into public high school, WITH REAL LIVE PUBLIC PEOPLE.. (random looking around)(yeah people think I’m a little off... haha oh well) which for me turned out to be the best. (: I liked all the people. This is year numero uno with Coach Burchy (: He loved me. Me and Catherine Hester became like uber close and even wrote a story for Coach Burchy about pirates and what not. Looking back, this year was super easy. I wish all of high school could have been like this, but sadly it was not. :( OH! This was also the 1^st time I tripped in the hallway spilling all of my books everywhere. (major embarrassing) It was very much a look at the klutz moment.

          JUNIOR YEAR

=year number dos of tripping in the hall, and coach burchy (: yayness. I drew pictures all over his bulletin board. It made him smile I know. OH! I did an amazing piñata for espanol 2 (: it was cool.. see... his name is hector.. the teacher had a cow.. I named her nellie (;

Oh this was also the year of TRITONES, school choir, winterjam, twilight on dvd, the “emo look”, walking into walls, the j-mark b-day cake (don’t ask), the dentist commercial, my friend mary moving away :(, my photography phase, my twilight obsession, TYLER DUNCAN (:, repainting my room to remind me of the ocean.. edward the dog (deceased), edward the fish (deceased), DORKY GLASSES, piano studded belts, and tri-hipper comics :) and 11th grade english with ms. brewster.

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////SENIOR YEAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

OH WOW! Senior year flew by. I tripped in the hall.. again. Smiled at coach burchy every day.. somehow made it through AP English with ms. brew. it was tough. FOr me, senior year was all about, 

decorating lockers, writing my name in the sand, chillin at the park with buddies, JUPITER (sept. 2, 2009), football homecoming senior huddle, ice cream & cake (the dance lol), starbucks doubleshots :), stained glass windows, football games, pouring rain, band section, (: happiness, CHEESESTICKS, hiking (:, face painting, 4 haircuts, CALLING GLORY (GREAT CHRISTIAN BAND), zebra nails, nc youth trip, BOWS, eyeliner, nights with tyler, teagan my puppy, prom with tyler (:, senior day, baccalaureate, bedazzling graduation hats (:, taking over 400 pictures (:, and most of all (: love. OH! and almost having to pay 67.99 for my government book.

WOW! i cant believe that sums up high school (: but i guess all good things must come to an end. 

ADVICE!!!
CHerish High school (:
Love like the rain
Dance with the stars.
Don't waste time looking back (:

The ultimate gift is the gift of love and family, and i have both (: 

Until later, 

Emily ann. (: 

*Like i promised... MY CAP (:

finally feeling sunlight.

Listening to: And Now My Lifesong Sings-Casting Crowns

Quotelove: “Today is your song. Everything that you’re doing.” Mark Hall

May 16, 2010

So here I am. Graduation is 12 days away… counting weekends. (: I just counted to make sure. Wow I feel incredibly dorky now. Oh well. (: I am kind of tired. I stayed up until 4:34 making my graduation cap magnificent. I still have 4 hours to go. (: but let me tell you… you’re going to love, but you sooo have to wait until my end of May post. This is making up for last month.

      Today all of the senior teens at church went to preston’s for lunch (: I feel incredibly loved. Like... I finally feel like I’m completely at home with all of the older youth. (: they feel like family. It was nice. Especially when you think that there’s the possibility that you may never see some of them again.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

finally feeling sunlight
----------------------------------

      The whole point of this blog revolves around an idea… which is kind of top secret* so… I promise to fill you in later, but it is going to be preciously beautiful (: Mostly the idea revolves around a song. (: and it’s kind of old but basically… it’s still beautiful (: so… it’s still new, you know.

Finally feeling sunlight is all about being lost, in the dark, cold, alone, blind in a sense to everything around you, and then suddenly that burden being lifted. Taken away, healed in a sense and suddenly you are brought to the light. And you feel the warm sunshine on your arms for the first time in a long time. Then this really funny feeling begins to spread throughout your whole body defrosting your heart and pumping the fresh, warm blood through the rest of your aching, frozen limbs. It makes you feel a bit fuzzy at first, but then you realize it makes you feel alive. Like a feely good feeling was rising from the very tips of your toes and slowly crawling to the top, creating its own sort of beautiful right in the middle of your heart.

And SUDDENLY something hits you like a stack of bricks… this is what it feels like to surrender, to let JESUS take every bit and part of your life and to make it all His again. To clean you and save you over and over again, and you realize the magnificent love that dwells inside of your heart now, and you can’t help but to smile, because you feel so amazing inside. And you know that no matter how bad things threaten to get again, you are safe from the storm, wrapped in the loving hands of the one who calmed the seas. Knowing this, you have to look around to check and see if anyone else has caught on to this beautiful chaos erupting inside of your heart, causing you to leak from every possible opening with the purest and holiest of lights, because at that very moment you became His all over again. And all the feelings you felt the first time are intensified and somehow completely brand new.

This is giving up to Him your lifesong. And now my blog flows all back together again, and looping right where it began with … Listening to. (:


* i just like saying stuff is top secret to make myself feel more important.. much like i'm in a james bond movie (: haha i know. i'm dorky. i'm sure the secrets not even that big of a deal.

Live Your LIFESoNG! (:

Forever Yours,

Emily Ann. (:

.morning's first light.

quotelove: “Although Geppetto soon realized that Pinocchio was still made out of wood, it mattered little to him.”
                              (Pinocchio, page 7.)


February 19, 2010

Looking out into the night sky, I can see the stars. They are blanketed so perfectly random across the night sky as if God flung a bucket of glitter across His black canvas. It’s a cold night, the ground still clinging firmly to the chill of winter. I can feel my body begin to grow cold, and just a tad bit wet, but none of this matters as I stare into infinity. Because tonight, as I lay out under the stars, I know I am safe. Inside = potential danger, and I’m not quite ready to surrender just yet. I decide to play it safe until I know I’m strong enough to walk back into the battlefield so I curl up in my blanket just a wee bit tighter and begin to pen these thoughts.

The twinkling dots fill the sky much like fireflies in the warm summer air. But summer holds no meaning to what I am about to say. I was once told by a wise old man that, “The church was never meant by God to be an art gallery, but a hospital instead.” It is a place for soul healing in the most extreme way. A place to come before the creator of the milky way, and remember all the reasons you loved Him in the first place. And this makes me frown, because it reminds me that the church often isn’t used for that so much anymore. The church has accidentally allowed a monster into it’s presence. It's ripping the church apart from the inside out. And suddenly the members are cutting each other down. And they slowly drop out one by one until all that is left is a dried up piece of nothing.

Today

Sometimes I wonder what I would think of myself now if I had failed and cut again. I was so close that night. The blade touched my skin at least three dozen times before I threw it across the room and ran outside. I could already see that beautiful flower so perfectly sketched into my leg. I was already ten steps farther than I wanted to go. I had an emergency plan, planned out step by step, but the problem with emergency plans is, you have to WANT to get out of the situation, and at the moment I didn’t. I wanted to bleed, and scar, and then I would have a reason to sit around and feel sorry for myself. I wanted the adrenaline rush that usually followed my stupidity. But luckily a bit of sense flooded my mind, and visions of the possible future ran over me like cool relief.

So, I found myself outside thinking about the stars. And I love living in little ol’ barely on the map winfield, for one reason only. The stars can be clearly seen at night. Where I live, everything is really flat and whatnot and there really isn't a lot of trees around, and it's just like this vast blackness for as far as you could want. And really the beauty of it all overwhelms you as you look into something that you quite don't understand. And as I think I notice that some of the stars twinkled just a bit more brightly than others, and it reminds me of a quote I read once,

Each of us is like a star. sometimes we shine with the rest. Sometimes we twinkle* alone and sometimes, when we least expect it, we make someone’s dreams come true.

And that leads me to wonder how many people are out there wishing on one of these lucky stars. And how many guardian angels God is sending to help with their wishes. Because one night a little over a year ago, I was one of those people wishing. Only the really cool thing is, God started to grant it before I wished it. Looking back, I can see God’s hand in my life at this point of time. When I look over at my best friend at break, and he’s trying to push me over* I remember this point in my life quite vividly. Because without knowing it, I wished for him.

                                                  :]
                                    
Tylr Duncan (aka dare, the best friend, my guardian angel, the one I share all my secrets with) :]
I never thought that I would ever find a friend that I could be around all the time and never get tired of, because all of my friends begin to get on my nerves at a certain point. (: It’s true, sometimes he can be a bit dorky (and he tends to go act all smartical when he knows that I don’t understand :]), but you have to realize that it’s what makes him special. He’s one of those people that can always put a smile on your face, even if you’re a million zillion miles away. Honestly, I’m glad that we got into a fight and quit talking, because now, we’re even closer (: haha and I’m pretty much sure that after all we’ve been through, we’re supposed to be amigos. Because basically, I’d be lost without him and he would basically be crazy without me (; He is most definitely going to be the one that I will be friends with for the rest of my life. :) So haha.. Basically I can’t describe how happy I am that he’s back in my life. I honestly have no earthly clue how I got through the last few months without being completely bored to death. Tylr basically keeps me inline, and he is one of the main reasons I have permanently put away my knife. He was also the first person I told. There is this really great thing about him, where I can talk to him about absolutely anything, and no matter what I say, I know he won‘t ever look at me funny because of it. He’s the one living person on the whole world that knows almost all of my secrets.

“Some people come into our lives and quickly go. Some stay for a while, leave footprints on out hearts, and we are never, ever the same.” (Flavia Weedn)

    So, with this last quote I leave you to ponder and reflect upon your life, look for that one person who you can't stand to be without, and never let them leave, because they are the one's that leave footprints that start just an inch deep but then begin to grow and branch out into the farthest corners of your heart. Because those are the ones that you will regret letting walk away.

ALL MY LOVE
Emily Ann

* haha anyway, so he likes to try to push me over because apppppparently i "walk like a drunken sailor" and whatnot and I have horrible balance issues.. Mean right (: lol

.scars.

Quotelove: “Erin collects seashells. There are hundreds if shell pieces washed up on the shore today, jagged as broken glass. The sea has handed us a mighty ransom for our company. I tell her just to pick the special one and then watch her eyes scrutinize the pile. Her tiny fingers lift one shell from the mix. I think it will be a sand dollar or one of those conch shells full of ocean- something beautiful and unique. Instead, she picks up broken pieces, tiny shell fragments with splashy colors and interrupted swirls.

“Why these?” I ask when she puts them in my hand.

“They’re special,” she replies.

“They’re broken,” I say. It comes out more like a question than a statement.

“What makes seashells special then?” she asks me.

And it makes me wonder. What does make a seashell special? Is it the size or shape or color? Or the part that’s missing? Or is it something else altogether?

“You do,” I finally decide. “When you love something, you make it special.”

“Cool,” she says. “I like the broken ones.”

(Paperdoll, pg. 53)

Hello loverlies (:

February has really done it’s best to throw me off guard. Like right off the bat, we got a week plus one day off school for snow. (: woo! Haha. Then I got on blogger and noticed that I hadn’t written anything in three weeks. *gasp* and then I looked at the date, and I remembered that valentines day was right around the corner *faint* haha. So it looks like that I’m going to be at home on a date with my pen and paper on that day. But I have a really special blog coming out of it. (:

So anyways, I was in government on Tuesday and the idea for this blog came to mind. I love it when I get new ideas. First it starts small, maybe with a title, or a phrase, or a sentence. It slowly blooms after that. The words begin to form sentences, and the sentences take root on the paper, spreading across, filling the space. Suddenly, the idea explodes, splattering like beautiful chaos, jumbling at points because my mind is so excited that it begins to run at 500 miles a hour, while my hand is poking along at 10.

So I got this idea. A title simply called scars. At the moment, I couldn’t give it the proper amount of attention because my government teacher was droning on and on about the types of government, blah, blah, blah. But later, when I was on the bus to my stupid business class*, I began to really think about it. There are so many ways to get scars, and so many stories explaining them. There are surgery scars, scars that tell stories of childhood, there are scars made by hate, scars left from loneliness, and then there are the intentional ones.

It is the intentional one I thought about. I’ve written about them so many times before, but this time, it feels different, because this time, it will not be told in the form of a story. I wonder how someone can turn something as dangerous as self injury into an art form. How someone can take something as ugly as scars, and make it appear beautiful on their legs and arms? How can skillfully steady hands create something so out of control? It is an alarming beauty, and a false stillness that pulls the blade along. But honestly, how can the artist’s hand falter when the devil himself is helping the chaos along?

These thoughts force me to think of myself. Scars cover my legs, all made by my own hand. I did not act out to defy my parents, nor did I do it for a show. If that had been the case, I would have chosen my arms, but instead my legs fell victim. It was so easy to hide, they were always covered anyway. The reason I cut was a desperate attempt to gain control in my life, but I couldn’t find the control because I was plugging into the wrong source. I wasn’t letting the Deliverer do His job. I have come to accept my scars. I used to find them ugly, another part of my body that was flawed, and I would get so mad because I knew that I had done it to myself. But now I see them as another way that I am beautifully unique. A physical reminder of the miracle Jesus preformed when He rescued me from myself.

In December I had a relapse. It was a word made up of seventeen cuts. It stands one inch tall, and four inches wide. It reads.. ALONE. It is the one scar that I still feel horrible for making. Because when I wrote it I was not alone. Jesus was right beside me, bleeding over an identical word carved into his leg. And I hate it. It’s big and ugly, and basically a slap in the face to everyone who loves me. I’ve basically just told my family, my “adopted sister” Courtney, my bestie tyler, all my other friends (who I love dearly), my mr. for-the-rest-of-my-life, and God that they weren’t good enough all in one little ten minute breakdown. And I remember that every single day, and I will for the rest of my life.

I then began to think of all the emotional scars that had left their permanent holes in my heart. Scars from when I lost my aunt Pam, and then two more when I lost my cousins Jennifer and Jasie way before their time. I received another one when I found out about my real dad, and how I wish and hope and pray for the day he tells me that he loves me. Several other scars fall beside them. Some are from the hurtful words I was called (for words are like a double edged sword). Others are from fear. Fears that maybe I might just lose someone I love dearly very soon. Like my papaw Jim, who I love extremely. I worry about him all the time. But then something amazing happens. Jesus comes in and fills all the little cracks in my heart; He patches all the little holes, and makes me feel at peace. There is a verse that I love to look at when I feel the pain of an emotional wound coming on.

1 Corinthians 10:13 “There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man: but God [is] faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear [it].”

I think that verse is so pretty, and I love how God is so merciful to only give us the life that we were able to handle with His help. It’s not always a cake walk. It sometimes is filled with a little pain, but just knowing that He loves me, and that He is always there for me makes me feel better.

When it comes to the end of the day, I am still broken, like the seashells in the quote. Unwanted by most, but adored by a certain few who have an eye for some hidden beauty or talent that I may possibly possess once the sand is washed away. Daily polished by God, and kept in line by His children. He makes me special because He loves me.



I have finally learned the truth, happiness is not something you achieve by age, or knowledge, or beauty. Not by things, or people, or success. The feeling cannot be bought, or sold, or traded. Happiness cannot be measured with a smile or a frown or even with laughter. It is not something that once you get there, you stay forever no matter what. Happiness is not a destination, but a way of travel. Being happy doesn’t mean that life is perfect, merely that you’re not willing to let life get the best of you at the moment. It is something that everyone searches for and chases after, but happiness is kind of like a shadow on a sunny day. The more you chase it, the further it moves away, but if you wait for that moment when the sun is at its peak, and you stand very still, suddenly your shadow will be underneath you. Happiness is sitting in the rain to watch football and having your best friend rub the rain from his jacket on your dry face. Happiness is all the little nights I spend with my lovely sister courtney duncan. Happiness is having friends that turn moments into memories that last forever. Happiness is found in hope, and childhood, and starbucks coffee. In wishing stars, and fairy tales, and dreams, and true love. It is found in the little things that make you smile. Happiness is love, and hope, and peace. Happiness is found in all the silly memories you make with your family. (like sitting in the parking lot of wendy's and laughing so hard that you almost choke on your french fries and pee your pants at the same time because your dad is singing some weird song at the top of his lungs.) (or even those insane road trips to the 127 sale (: where we never seem to buy anything, but we have such a good time together.)  Happiness is not the things in your life, but instead the joy from Jesus filling your heart. I can now make the statement that I, Emily Ann, am perfectly, and incandescently and irrevocably filled with Jesus, and therefore, I am happy (:

So my dears I leave you with this thought to ponder upon. (: and wish you the best of luck in standing on your shadow. (;


With all my love,
Emily Ann (:


* The stupid business class is the one Dwight Murphy talked my mom into making me take because "it's a great opportunity" which it would be, if I liked business at all. But I don't. I despise it. If I had a business, I'd burn it to the ground, and smile as I was being locked in the loony bin. haha. (;

sometimes starry-eyed princesses fall

 Inspired by: The King of Kings :)
*~*~*~*
listened to: prodigal & does anyone hear her- casting crowns; rescue me- crabb revival; she walked away & on my own & I need you to love me-barlow girl; back in his arms again- mark schultz; when she cries- britt nicole
*~*~*~*
Quote love <3 : (from an episode of extreme makeover: home edition.) Kassandra (an eight-year-old battling cancer, but all she asked for was help to paint the cancer wing at the children’s hospital she was treated in.)[talking about the beaded necklaces she made to make money for the cancer society.]:“The pink bead stands for love, and it’s on the top because love comes first.”
*~*~*~*
Okay so I have been dying to write this blog :) it has honestly been in my stack of ideas for about two years, but now He’s finally given me the go ahead to finish it. It always makes me cry just to think of this circumstance, but lets just say that every girl has wanted to be a princess. :)
*~*~*~*~

Right now she's laughing as she spins in circles around the room. A smile shines on her face, and my heart is at ease. She's happy for now, and that's all I can ask for.

Taking a closer look, I can see the scars. They cover her legs. Long, ugly scars that mar her beauty to the world, but to me she’s perfect. The world has taken her and made her their own, but she went too far. She lost control. They should have known, no one could have taken what they placed upon her. I cried helplessly as she hurt herself, and I watched the blood pouring from her wounds. It broke my heart; could she not see that she was still mine? They shunned her now, leaving her all alone, but a least it drove her home again. It drove her back to me. I grinned as I looked at her father. A large smile covered his majestic face as she looked back to Him. He’s exactly what she needed. After all, love comes first, then healing. My mind drifted painfully back to the day she ran away, which is coincidently where our story begins.

Once upon a time there lived a girl. She was beautiful, but the years of play had scarred her face and arms. No more was she the innocent baby she once had been. Her hands were black from the dirt of the playground. Her dress was reduced to shreds, the hem frayed, and what little part that remained intact was soiled, the color gone beyond recognition. Her jewelry was gone; most of it was traded for her next meal.

She sat alone on the swing set watching all of the other children with their parents protectively by their side. But she was alone. The desire to go home swelled inside of her, but what if He didn’t want her anymore? She had already messed up so many times. The morning light lit the sky up in purples and blues, her favorite colors. Still ashamed of who she was, she headed home.

Her father stood at the door waiting on her. He picked her up and looked her over before pulling her close into a hug. He sat her on the counter as he gently wiped all the black off, before sending her to the bathtub. But to her surprise, there was a fresh new gown hanging by the door for her to wear. It was beautiful, she could tell that her father had made it special. After her bath, the royal hairdresser fixed her hair, and even powdered her little nose. The princess ran down the stairs to show her father, who smiled proudly at his precious jewel. She looked angelic.

This is where she met me, and I knew she was mine. She was what I wanted, and she was beautiful. She had her little quirks, things she hated about herself, but they only made me love her more. She was special. I tried to advise her to stay out of trouble, but she didn’t listen all of the time, and it was me who carried her home, back to her father. He looked at her with a smile, welcomed her home, cleaned her up, and held a celebration for his returned daughter. And then we would be close again. She shared all of her secrets with me as we fell more and more in love.

Soon she quit talking to me at all. Her circle of friends changed dramatically. I was surprised to hear that she had ran away again, because this time she didn’t want me with her. I listened, waiting for her to say that she’d had enough, but she never did. I watched her fall into the blackness. I waited worried, frantically pacing the stone floor. I went to her father, begging Him to bring her home, but He only raised His hand to silence me. “She’s not ready yet. Don’t worry. It’s in her master plan.” He reminded me; it wasn’t what I was hoping to hear from Him. But I slumped into a chair as I saw the tears in His eyes. He was hurting too. Her activities appeared on the big screen in the throne room, and I couldn’t bear to watch. She was killing herself. All of her activities led to a grave-site, but she didn’t care.

The sky blackened and my tears fell like raindrops as I cried in agony. Blood flowed down her legs from wounds she made herself, but the pills had numbed her. She couldn’t feel the pain. I looked at the King in horror as the dragon appeared. This couldn’t be her master plan. He must have gotten it all wrong, but there the beast stood, just waiting to take her life. I looked back at her father, expecting Him to say stop, but His compassionate face had turned to stone. She whispered something, but to me she might as well have shouted it. “Rescue me.” It was all I needed, I jumped upon my trusty stead and raced to her side. Her beautiful gown was ragged, her skin bruised and scarred. The dragon was angered by my presence, and snorted fire in her direction, but I jumped between them just in time. A loud voice sounded in the deserted rubble of a once great castle. “Leave her be. She’s mine.” The dragon sent her a deadly glare, before rasping “Next time, you won’t be so lucky. I promise.” I carried her back to her father.

The large man looked her over. “I’m not worthy to be here. I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry.” She said. Her eyes were cast downward in shame, but He raised her chin with one of His fingers. “I’m glad to have you home princess.” This was all it took, and she fell into His arms as she cried. He helped her wash up removing the blackness from her body. I watched as He touched each scrape and bruise instantly healing them. He stopped at her legs and a frown appeared on His face. “I won’t fix these,” he pointed to the scars. “You’ll have to learn that you are beautiful with them.” He continued on to her hair, first washing, then untangling, before finally fixing it. He kissed her forehead, and then clapped His hands. She watched in awe as a gown appeared before her. It was far better than those she had seen before. “Now,” He said with a smile, “Let us all gather and celebrate, because my beloved child has come home.”

Luke 15: 20-24

“And he arose, and came to his father. But when he was yet a great way off, his father saw him, and had compassion, and ran, and fell on his neck, and kissed him.

And the son said unto him, Father, I have sinned against heaven, and in thy sight, and am not worthy to be called thy son.

But the father said unto his servants, Bring forth the best robe, and put it on him; and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet:

And bring hither the fatted calf, and kill it; and let us eat, and be merry:

For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found, And they began to be merry.”
*~*~*~*

I didn’t plan on going the whole Luke 15 direction. That just happened. I just told my story. Like I said before, I’ve had this idea jammed in a notebook for like two years and suddenly God was like, Emily, do this now. :) This is the one I’ve always wanted to write, and so many songs inspired this piece, but I told God that it was His when I started, and I asked him to make it beautiful, and He did. When I write, there are times when I have like this complete out of body experience. This is when God temporarily mutes me, and takes over for just a little while. And everything that comes out is amazingly beautiful, because He is the Best Selling Author. That’s when the number one blogs begin to roll out. And I look at people with a smile, kindly thank them for their complement, and tell them that they need to thank God instead. (: Because the one who rigs up all the stars in the night sky, and the one who paints all the colors in the northern lights, is the same one who sat down and penned the words in my brain. The Master Electrician, My Abba Father, God. :)
In Awe :)
Emily Ann.

x marks the spot

hearing: The Face of Love- Sanctus Real
favorite parts <3: “And you are the face that changed the whole world. No one too lost for you to love. No one too low for you to serve. So, give us the grace to change the world. No one too lost for me to love. No one too low for me to serve…”
                        &
“You’ve been portrayed a thousand different ways, but my heart can see you better than my eyes.”
*~~~*

    WOAH! :) Happy New Year’s :)

*Point One:
    So this blog started out as a conversation with myself trying to describe what has been going on with me over the past month. I tend to go through these little ups and downs with Jesus. There are times when I can feel Him with his hand closed tightly within my own; it is these times when I feel most in love. But there are also times when I feel so alone. I know Jesus is still beside me, but I withdraw myself from Him. I think this is partly because I get mad at him. The rational side of my mind turns on at this point and asks, “How can you be mad at someone who never does anything wrong? How can you not talk to someone who loves you with everything they have?” And the questions bring tears to my eyes because I know I shouldn’t feel angry or withdraw myself from the one who owns my soul.
    I thought about the questions all day, and I think I have found the solution. It is found in the question, I think that sometimes I get so mad at Him because He never does anything wrong. He is absolute perfection. And I think sometimes I tend to get jealous over that fact, because obliviously I’m not perfect in anyway. No matter how hard I work I will never be able to work hard enough to be enough for Him. I was the reason He died just so I could be His equal as I enter into the gates of Heaven.
    And as to the second question, well, it does sort of irk me that no matter what I do He will always take me back. Sometimes, I just want someone to yell at me and tell me that I was being stupid. But He never does. He always looks at me with those big beautiful eyes, and takes my hand with the hand that perfected every detail of nature. He never ceases to forgive, which I am grateful for because I never cease to sin. It is just that sometimes I wish He would be harsher to me and He’s not.
   
        Anyway :) That’s just how it gets with me sometimes. It’s a little hard for me to just go all out with the trust thing, but I’m learning :)

*Point Two
     My second point of this blog is a lyric to one of my favorite songs. Every time I hear the song, It Was Me, I get chills. It has one of the most beautiful lines that fits in perfectly with my past. “Who saved you when no one else could?” Awh :) So, basically, this small little line describes my entire life story :)
    Once upon a time a little girl was born :) She was black and blue (where she had a few complications being born), but to him she was beautiful :) Because he already knew that she was his. He knew that she would grow up, and that she would make the choices necessary to make him a part of her.
    So this child grew, not so much in grace and beauty, but in knowledge and dreams. She had a few problems on the way of growth (which caused her lots of casts and bruises), and almost lost the fight with a sinus problem, but he had other plans. This was the second time he saved her life. He gave this little girl hopes, and dreams big enough to fill seven of the largest galaxies. Her goal was to write and fill the world with beautiful words, and wonderful stories, but she turned down the wrong road.
    He watched in miserable pain as she picked at the scabs on her legs. “Battle wounds,” she thought. “Proof of this pathetic life I’ve lived.” He watched through tears as she planned the evil deed out, she was only waiting for the right moment. But he couldn’t let her finish it out and give up. Hope was sent to her in the form of a small text saying I love you. The girl threw away the knife she held in her hand. And once again, he had saved her life. It was a long hard road back to him, but she unknowingly traveled it, and when the time came, she fell to her knees.
    The past she knew was buried at the bottom of the deepest ocean, and her dreams mapped themselves into the night sky.
       
    “Everything you want to change about yourself, all the parts about yourself that you want to keep secret, its your power. IT’S who you are.” -Fame-

    The hardest pain for me to live with was the possibility that God would not take me back. As many times as I had fallen, I thought the feat to be impossible. If you have ever been to that place where you had (as a CHRISTIAN) ran so far away that you thought, Well HE won’t bother to pull me out of this one, then you know what I am talking about. My brain had actually just given up all hope of surviving.
    So when JESUS stepped in and saved me from Satan. (WHEN HE SAVED ME FROM MYSELF…) The pain was first like a BURNING fire. I was so ashamed of what I had done and who I had become. BUT a cool new fire washed over me as Jesus brushed all of the past sin off of me. HE said, My dearest sister, you are clean, you are right back where you belong. Taylor Swift's song you belong with me is exactly what JESUS sings to us.

        "I'm the one who makes you laugh when you know you're about to cry
         I know your favorite songs and you tell me about your dreams
         I think I know where you belong. I think I know it's with me.
        Can't you see that I'm the one who understand you?
         Been here all along so why can't you see?
         You belong with me"

    I still have a hard time sometimes. The urges and desires have never fully gone away. But like every addiction, you just have to look at it as a daily success. Satan uses this to tempt me, but this only proves that I am human.
I'm a dreamer, a hoper, and a FIRM believer in prayer.
I have hearts on my notebooks and HEALED scars on my legs.
I believe in miracles, because I AM ONE.
There is no way I should be alive today.
The odds have been stacked against me since jan.19,1992.
But GOD has a plan for me, and HE'S not finished just yet.

*Point Three :)
    Happy 2010 :) Already a new year has begun and it is quite amazing. Who would have thought it would come so quickly? So, :) I’m going to make a list of ten things I want to get accomplished in this year :)
       
        Goals:
            1. Finish my story :)
            2. Not text as much (yeah right)
            3. Start & Finish sewing my blanket :)
            4. Make a new friend.
            5. Drink more water.
            6. Get 10,000 songs on my iPod (I have close to 2,000 right now)
            7. Keep my room somewhat on the clean side.
            8. Write in my journals more J (I have like 10 blank ones now)
            9. Read through my Bibles again.
            10. Get a different part in the Easter play (I’ve been Mary (Lazarus’ sister) for the past 3 years)

    Aha! There we have it. :) Hopefully I’ll do at least half of it :) Anyways :) lol I guess I’m going to go :) Have a happy and safe new year. Keep your eyes stuck on the One who created the heavens and the earth in a single day. :)
                           
                            Shine. Bright.
                            Emily. Ann.

Winter Snows & Traffic Jams :)

*Written December 18th (in traffic lol)
*Listening to: One King- Point of Grace :)

   Okay, so here we sit in traffic. It's honestly horrible, not to mention that, well, I am in dire need of a bathroom. But without one in any range of sight, I shall have to sit and wait until one magically appears. In the meantime... Let's have a little story ladies & gents. :) Shall we?

                                                       *~~~~*

   The scars ran in elegant lines down her long legs. If one was to look from a distance, he or she might see the the lines forming intricate designs and pictures. Her best artwork was hidden in scars on her legs, but only she could see the beauty in them. Others saw them as the monsters that they were. They knew ther her addiction was slowly killing her, but they could not do anything about it. She was her own person, the title of eighteen weighing heavily upon her shoulders. She said she was completely in control, although it was a contradiction to what she knew was true. She was spiraling out of control in an alarming rate.
   The deeper she cut, the better she felt, but the razor was only a mask to hide the pain she felt in her heart. She sliced bitterly at her leg in her heartache, but there was no instant relief. Her hand was unusually shaky, an the lines squiggled hopelessly as her hand trembled. Finding no comfort from the slices she made in her skin, she threw the blade across the large bathroom. She suddenly felt the cold tiles against her bare, bleeding legs as the razor clattered against the floor. She curled into herself as teardrops fell from her eyes.
   She was startled by the sobs coming from right beside her. It shouldn't have surprised her, she knew who it was before she even looked up. She looked up to see him looking at her with tear filled eyes. The razor blade lay untouched on the floor but blood was flowing from identical cuts on his legs. Surely he hadn'y done this to himself. He wasn't the type she thought. But the proof was there written in blood on his legs. She gasped ashamed as she realized that when she cut, he bleed too. He was her perfect match, half of who she was. Jesus pulled her into a hug as they cried together.
 
   "Why would you do this?" He was only whispering, but he might as well been yelling with the guilt it brought her.

    "I was all alone. I had no one to help with my problems." She shrugged as she spoke.

    "I wanted to help you sweetie." The girl was angered by this, and glared in his direction.

    "Then why didn't you? Why wern't you there?" His eyes showed the sadness he hid from his face.

    "You wouldn't let me. You ran away, you didn't want me anymore." She gasped as he continued. "Do you know how long I've stood, pacing the floor, waiting for you to come home? Waiting for the day I got to listen to your problems, to help you solve them. Waiting to get to hold you in my arms again to protect you from the world waiting to tear you apart, but you ran to them. Now look, they broke you and made you theirs." She was bawling now ashamed of her past.

     "Am I fixable?" She asked in a whisper, and was surprised to hear him chuckle.

     "Of course you're fixable." But his face took on a more serious look as he stared into her eyes.
     "I love you Emmy." He was entirely serious, it was then that I noticed that I was the pathetic girl in the flashback.

     "I love you. I'm so sorry." He only shook his head as he looked out the bathroom window at the stars.

     "You're mine now you know." His lips were pulled into a smirk as the midnight stars twinkled behind him.

     "Forever." I whispered.

                                           *~~~*

AWH :) and to think, that really was me at one point in time. Thankfully Jesus stepped in and took me back. I don't deserve the kindness that he gave me, but it comes in overwhelming torrents on a daily basis. Everything about the way he loves me is beautifully perfect.

   I think that this story explains the reason as to why I am so passionate about To Write Love On Her Arms. Everyone needs to know that there is always hope, and hurting oneself is never the answer.

ANYWHO :)
I got to run, my story needs to be proofread and fixed, before my buddy Courtney can read the masterpeice that has been my last three months..

MERRY MERRY CHRISTMAS :)
Shine Brightly.
Emily.Ann.