Storytelling in the midst of inaction

I love telling stories. I don’t do it because I want to enlighten neurons in your brain or to slowly waste my breath that just filters in and out of my lungs but I tell stories because I want to relate. That’s my way of relating to everyone I come into contact with.

“Oh, you went to the beach last Saturday? How was it? Oh great! Yeah, I love the beach, this one time when I went…”

That’s me. I hope it doesn’t sound boastful or like I don’t want to hear your memories and good times but when it comes to me I just randomly spew my knowledge through my experience. I’m a doer, I learn by doing, and if I want to help I try to let you know what I went through to also share in on the same key note of understanding.

That’s why I want to cram my life with weird, adventurous details so I can learn. Life is boring if you’re not learning or putting yourself through the rigors that God sets out for you. I feel like that’s why we can’t escape difficult situations. They shape us, like little rolls of dough– but that’s another tangent for another cloudy day.

Go create stories, share them, and don’t let anyone tell you your stories aren’t worthy for telling.

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Love equals honesty and truth

I wouldn’t mind going camping on the beach sometime. Just building a big fire, watching the sun set as the chill comes on. I want to do a lot of things but other things just keep getting in the way, tripping me up and creating anxiety and fear. Listen, I’m in a constant state of anxiousness and I know that probably means I’m not putting my trust in the Lord but I don’t know how to turn it off. I don’t know how I’m suppose to feel. There have been times when I feel peace, that everything will be/is okay but those moments pale in comparison to the lies I’m probably telling myself. I know they’re lies but it’s almost like I’m trying to look for hope in them. It’s almost like I’ve got my head screwed on wrong and I’m looking in the opposite direction. I maybe walking in the right direction but it’s like my eyes aren’t quite looking to where I need to be looking.

I think I need to learn to be honest and tell myself what I want…

I just want a fun, adventurous, weird life. I want stories to tell my hopeful, one day soon, children. I want to experience life to fill my heart and also understand what it truly means to be love. I think achieving that really means being honest. Either with yourself or with friends, husbands, wives, who ever. That anxiety and fear maybe lies but truth is trust and love, and I know I really need to work on it.

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Hoping for travel

So it seems this year is full of wanderlust for me. My coworkers girlfriend is headed out on trips of a lifetime, hopping from one country to another, plus my coworker is headed to Asia too. My boss is headed to Sweden. Another coworker is in Europe right now and every day I see Instagram blowing up my phone (and mind) with destinations I only dream about going to.33783216735_2512377a32_oRecently I decided to give up on the idea of teaching ESL. Yeah, it would be a sure fire way to travel and getting paid for it but every time I apply to a job it either doesn’t work out or I chicken out. Ever since I was a kid I always found travel fascinating. My Dad use to country hop for jobs before settling down and one of my earliest memories was asking him if he had been to a certain place and if so to tell me what it was like. Travel has always been my goal, but fear and apprehension slips in right when I believe I could actually do it. 33626754622_8e91ce226d_oFear gets in my way a lot. I’ve always wanted to be a person who packs up and jets off spontaneously but when I look at that realistically I don’t truly believe anyone just packs a bag and spends $1,000 on an airplane ticket sporadically. There’s a lot of planning that goes into it. I mean, I’m sure people do just go and figure it out on the way but as I’ve grown I’ve learned I’m not that person- no matter how much I want to be. I like planning. I like researching and siking myself up for what essentially still the unknown, but fear isn’t allowed in those siking up moments. It’s forgotten. I’m to focused on excitement. So why let fear in any time? Why can’t I just pretend I’m siking myself up all the time? You know what that’s really called? Hope. Hope for a better to be. Hope for what is to come. Put your hope in what God can give you, because He can give you a truly awesome trip.

So where’s my next destination? I have no idea. I’d love for it to be England again but who knows. I’m just hoping it’ll be amazing.  32940188514_5f1d53c830_o

Sunflower hopes and rainy skies

cropped-img_0148.jpgToday is pretty dreary with a side of hope. It rained last night but only enough to wet down the top soil. Most of the clouds are stubbornly sticking to their spots in the sky. It’s cool enough that my Mom and I planted a ton of flowers in hope of some sticking with us this summer. I planted sunflower seeds and hopefully not in vain. They’re usually a hearty seed but not strong enough for ants to sink their jaws into. Last summer I planted so many and watered an empty hole repeatedly but hopefully this summer it’ll be different. All I’ve got is hope, guys.

Colony House concert and Little Five Points, Atlanta

IMG_3458So my pal, Rachel, and I hustled over to Atlanta last night. We meandered around Little Five Points and then in the evening we went to The Loft at Center Stage to see Colony House and I was the oldest person in this venue, but hey, it was so fun that I didn’t care. There’s something about being the oldest in a crowd that seems so unbinding. It freed me up to rock out even more and howl at the moon all I wanted.

– photos taken with iphone SE so please forgive me!IMG_3477IMG_3459 2IMG_3457The places we hit up:

Day trippin in Hendersonville, NC

IMG_2238So today I day tripped in Hendersonville. It’s not super far from my hometown and it’s probably one of my favorite places to go on a weekend, only being like 30-40 minutes away.

We mainly walk through the downtown area and go to good ole Kilwins. There’s a really great used book store called Joy of Books to peruse and if you’re down for coffee (who isn’t?) there’s Black Bear Coffee Co. which I still have yet to go into…

The old courthouse stands as the Henderson County Heritage Museum and I mean, it’s actually really interesting if you’re into history like moi.

It’s a pretty dope little mountain town, right up the road from Flat Rock, where the Carl Sandburg Home stands, and about 30 minutes away from Asheville. Anyway, I love this little town… IMG_2241IMG_2243IMG_2250IMG_2266

Day tripping w/Ashley

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Well, since I’ve got all this time on my hands from work being so slow I’ve decided to go on more day trips. Upon entering the real world and graduating college, God put traveling on my heart-and actually this blog was suppose to be a travel blog, but I never really went anywhere consistently. I went to London. I went to Los Angeles. I talked about Charleston, SC- I think. Travelers Rest, heck, even western Pennsylvania.

And then I stopped. Life just got in the way, but here I am ready and willing to say I’m gonna be doing that again, even if it is in smaller ways. Baby steps, guys, baby steps. I’m trying!

And don’t forget to check out instagram for some updates as well! @thedarlingloon

 

Jumping into the storm

So it’s been a while… I’m still alive and I will survive. As of late I feel like I’m on the struggle bus and what does one do when they’re driving the bus? She writes! No, my eyes are not on the road at this very moment but on a computer screen screaming “WHY ME!”

To be honest I knew this season of struggle was on its way. I felt really calm a month ago, like right before a storm hits. You can smell it in the air, the wind is blowing, and on the horizon you see a huge, impending, formidable storm coming for you.

33783218305_9f0059fcba_oSchool is going well, yet it feels unchallenging. Work is extremely slow and I don’t know where I’m going to next. I’ve fallen for the lie that I look like Sloth from the Goonies. I’m constantly worried about my family, and the Lord and I seem to be drifting apart… When Jesus stood on water during the storm He didn’t say “hey, look at that cloud over there! It looks like your life because you failed.” He said “Take courage. I am here. Come and stand out here with me.” And yet, in this moment in my life I keep allowing the storm to get in the way. I’m bending over the side of the boat going “What? I can’t here you. Hey, look at that cloud!”33626778372_1e4a5d5d21_oI wake up every morning believing God is gonna scrub me of this sinful thinking but the truth is is that it’s up to me to get up and decide it’s gonna be a good day. He does get me up, and he pushes me here and there but he allows me to choose. He sent Jesus to let me know He’s got my back, to not forget, and to always keep my eyes on Him- to jump out in that storm. To keep my faith. To hold firmly and never let go.

So I’ve woken up today and I decide that.

He won’t get rid of my struggles like a quick snap of the fingers but He’ll stand by me through them all. Maybe I just need to grab some courage from within my life preserver and jump. I might fall in the water but I know how to swim to Him. He won’t let the sharks get me. 33626740072_6d6ac983b7_o

My longest post. My story.

29270973371_7d59c572ec_oSo I’m taking a break from reading Huckleberry Finn, wellll, uh, really taking a break from doing my homework (#collegeproblems #gettingamasters), and I keep thinking about my Bible study and our weekly challenge. It’s to write out our story and how we came to find Jesus and then share it with someone, and this week has been quite a trying time and well, I haven’t been out very much. I’m not a hermit, trust me on that one, I just haven’t been on the schedule enough. Work is slow (so is this book) and here I am. Here’s my story y’all:

I was raised in the Catholic church. I went to “church class” on Wednesday nights after school, got confirmed and it was all good. I went to church when I could, mostly holidays, but for some reason never quite felt at home, I didn’t feel a connection. (Now, I’m not hating on the Catholic church. Let me be clear on that. I’m just talking about my experience.) I never wanted to be honest about it because I never had another church-y experience to really compare too. I visited other friends churches but never really let myself take it in because it wasn’t my church. I constantly felt guilty about not going but I didn’t really know why.29349549235_559e81137d_oSo, like most young people going into college, I stopped. I halted all belief in anything. I believed there was a possibility of God but I was open to other ways of life too. To be honest, there was always a sense of grief, of guilt even, there was something missing in me. So, I went to school, I got in a doomed relationship, got my heartbroken, nearly got kicked out, and partied and I mean partied (sorry, Mom). I tried what I could to fill a hole. And then I jumped into that hole.

My last year in college I suffered a lot. I remember living alone in a bottom level apartment and not wanting to go home and be alone. Let me repeat that: Alone. I felt scared. I felt darkness surround me, and I had nightmare upon nightmare where I had to fight things off and it freaked me out! I wasn’t happy. I was depressed and nothing helped. Until I thought, “Hm, maybe I should go back to church.” So I found a small Catholic church and went in one Sunday and nearly cried. It’s funny that I went back to place where I felt like I had no connection to begin with. It’s because I had nothing else. I felt like I had hit rock bottom, I hit my lowest low. So I sat there, on a wooden pew and bit my lip. 29061937950_67f50b9359_oIt wasn’t until I graduated and got what I hope will be my worst job ever, and met my friend Sarah, who in retrospect guided me back to what church is really about. Where love stems from, and that’s Jesus. The first time we hung out it was my birthday and she asked me point blank what did I believe in. I was stumped and had no idea really. I just said “a little bit of everything.” A frown set onto her face and she handed me a book called The Story by Max Lucado and Randy Frazee. That was my birthday gift. I took her up on her challenge to read it. And well, “duh” is the word, I read it. Flash forward three years and I’m here. I’m in a church I love, and I’m growing in a community, and I feel protected, loved and a part of something. I feel good. But not without countless questions and feelings of doubt and trying, trying times. I still go through difficult periods. But I gave my life to Christ and it’s not easy. 26683117874_0e4580a1e3_oIn a world where we want everything to be easy, this is not. But it is worth it. Trust me on that. God loves you even with all the sin you have in you. He loves you and wants what is good and right, and truthful for you. What is best, like a father would. We’re all bad, we’ve all got sin in us, but it’s up to us-to you, to me, to decide what we want to do, what path we want to take. Do we want to keep feeling empty and jump into holes or do we want to rise above them and become better, more loving, peaceful people? I’ll take the latter.