Some Kind Of Wonderful

I think I might have had a conversation with God.  Now, now, now, don't go rolling your eyes or moving onto another page.  I'm not crazy, nor am I going to be all preachy.

But I think the Holy Spirit sent me a message, in the form of an old man walking around the track. But hey, Divinity comes in all shapes and sizes.  I wasn't really thinking about religion when I started talking to him, and suddenly there I was, listening to a man in sweat pants tell me about how we need to pray to be born again and how heaven isn't outside of ourselves; it's inside each and everyone of us.

And then he said something that completely floored me.  He said, "No one can judge you.  You just keep on loving people and doing what you do.  Only God can judge.  All the rest don't matter."  He couldn't have known that is a constant worry of mine, nor could he have realized how much those words effected me, set me free.
It could very well be some sort of coincidence, but I prefer to think it was some kind of Wonderful.

God bless you, Jeff.  You've helped me more than you know.

A Little Something About Me

Sometimes, especially when school is involved, I get extremely stressed out.  Sometimes I get nauseous, and other times I am crawling underneath a desk bawling my eyes out.  In both cases, I tell myself that there is no reason to get so stressed, that I am doing fine, that everything is going to be okay, but it doesn't help.  Usually my mental pep talks exacerbate the problem, as I begin to berate myself for being so weak!

Thankfully, I am blessed with an incredibly family, a stalwart best friend, and a wonderful dear sir.  Unfortunately, my dear sir cannot always be there, nor can my best friend, but they offer wonderful words of comfort and love that help me infinitely more than my own can.  And then, of course, there is my family.  Since I live with my family, they are there not only to offer words, but to give hugs.

Hugs are magical.  I am a firm believer in the power of hugs.  Some of the worst days I have ever had were those without hugs.  There have been numerous times when I have forced myself to not feel sad, to push it away and hid it deep within; however, whenever I do that, my mother inevitably gives me a hug, and it immediately rises to the surface and gets cleaned way.  I don't mind that I'm not very good at hiding my feelings from others.  I think it's a healthier way to live.

Anyway, there's a little something about me:  I'm a physical person.  I feel and express emotion best through physical contact.  So if you ever meet me and start to tell me all the troubles in your life, don't get freaked out when I squeeze your arm or give you a hug.  I'm just letting you know that I care.

A Nod To Gerard Manly Hopkins

Glory be to God for cloudy days

And blustering winds, and red runny noses

And frigid, frozen, frosty air.

I shudder, yet I stop and praise

The glorious maker of holly and roses,

While mittens and jackets rush here and rush there.

Standing on the brown dead land

I look to the grey and roiling sky,

Exhaling a prayer with visible breath.

I stand in awe of the omnipotent hand

And the eye, the oh-so-wondrous eye,

That can see the beauty in death.

Beautiful day

Today is a lovely day.  It is one of those days that makes me glad to live in a place where the changing of the seasons is noticeable.  The sky is a bright blue, speckled with a few puffy clouds, and the sun is shining most jollily; however, the temperature is brisk and cool.  The difference between shade and sun is readily apparent.

I love these fall days.  The only thing that is slightly disappointing is that the trees haven't started adorning themselves yet.  They're still clinging to their beryl gowns.  Though that green is lovely, I cannot wait for the brilliant autumn fashion show. 

Come on, Trees!  It's time to start changing!  The sooner you change, the sooner my dear sir can come to me.

A Letter

Dear God,

I would just like to apologize to you for us humans.  We do a lot of stupid things when it comes to you.  The biggest one that comes to mind is killing.  We have killed many people in your name to further our own earthly ambitions.  Of course, some of the time, the people are just insane, but that's not your fault, which brings me to my main apology of this letter. 

I'm sorry that the human race blames you for every fault on the earth.  I'm sorry that so many people look at all the sorrow and suffering in the world and see that as proof that you don't exist, or if you do exist, that you don't really love us. 

People seem to forget that you are not a giant Santa Claus in the sky and will not magically swoop down and give us everything we want.  You are not our personal vending machine, where we put in prayers and receive miracles.  You are not going to solve all of our problems for us; life doesn't work like that. 

Now, I'll admit, it kind of sucks that you won't do that.  I mean, life is difficult and tough and hard, and it would be nice if you could just wave your hand and make all the problems go away, but, why should you clean up our mess?  You gave us free will; the mistakes in the world are caused by us, and we have to fix them. 

If you fixed our problems all the time, we would never learn anything; we would be mindless praising machines, and I don't think you want that.  If you did want us to be mindless praising machines, then why did you give us free will?  Some would say that you did it to test us, but I don't think that's right.  That seems like such a mean thing to do, and everything I've read and heard seems to agree that You Are Love.

I think the reason you gave us free will is that our choices mean so much more that way.  When we choose to love you and believe in you, we do not do it because we are forced to do so; that's not real love.  When we choose to love you, we do it because we want to love you.  That's the only way we can love you.

People say that if you can't solve our problems, then what good are you?  That sounds like an ignorant, spoiled teenager yelling at his parents because they won't buy him a car, doesn't it?  You've given us this Earth; you've given us free will; you've given us each other; and most of all, you've given us your Only Son. 

I'm sorry that we keep on clamoring for more.

One more thing, dear Lord.  I just want to thank you.  My faith is about the size of a mustard seed, and sometimes, it looked like that seed had died, but you didn't give up on me.  I'm still rather small and will probably never grow to the size of Peter or Paul, but I hope that my small faith gives you joy.

With the sincerest love and adoration,
Anne

PS.  Give my love to the Holy Spirit.

A Sonnet

I fear, my love, that you have lost your sight,

For, though I stumble, tumbling to the Earth,

You call me wondrous graceful and delight

In me, as in a gem of priceless worth.

I think, my love, you can no longer hear,

For, though I mince and mash all that I say,

You swear my voice is pleasant to your ear

And listen to me chatter all the day.

I know, my love, that you have lost your mind

For, when I sigh with love forever true

You turn and smile and reply in kind

And swear all other women to eschew.

But even though your senses all have fled

Fear not, my love, you’ve gained my heart instead.

Also on my deviantart:  thespes.deviantart.com/

Focus on Frustration

I do not get frustrated very easily, but nothing will whip me into a foaming-mouthed frenzy than when my internet suddenly quits for no reason, especially when I am doing something important, like talking to my dear sir.  For a lot of people driving is the trigger that changes many mild-manner fellows into frothing axe-slinging visigoths.  

There are some people who actually enjoy being frustrated and angry.  I am not one of those people; I am a sunshine bubbles sort of person.  (Yes, I meant to say 'sunshine bubbles' not 'sunshine and bubbles.'  Can you imagine little bubbles of pure sunlight?  Think of what would happen when they popped!)  It is difficult, however, to remain clear-headed and rational, when you just know that somewhere deep in the bowels of the internet a little goblin is sitting in a chair laughing maniacally while he flips a switch labeled "ON/OFF Anne's Internet."

I've found that the best way to deal with that sort of frustration is simply to analyze it.  It seems to work very well for me, because as soon as I take a breath and start listing the reasons why I am frustrated, I suddenly find a slew of reasons why being ready to become a serial killer merely because Facebook takes longer that 4 seconds to load is really idiotic.  I calm down almost immediately and am able to do one of the healthiest things I know:  laugh at myself.