God is great. All the time.

I came to a realization last night.
About myself.
About life.

We had a great worship service at Identity last night with Mr. Adam Jack Marcus playing for us...
and when I say great I really mean great.

Better than the worship service for me, though, was sitting in the sanctuary hours later with him, TJ, and Ryan, listening to him play the piano while we all sang songs.
Beautiful songs.
To our Lord and Savior.

Beyond my captivation over Adam's piano playing (and later guitar playing, too),
it gave me a bit of a revelation about myself and my life.

(shocking that I would have a revelation, right?)
(seems to happening a lot lately)

(but hey... better to be learning daily than never at all)


It's late, and I'm tired,
so I will blog more on it later,
but I haven't stopped smiling or being happy about this most recent revelation all day.

...which brings me to my basic point for this particular blog...

God is great.  All the time.
and all the time...
God is great.


I don't really think much else can be said after that.

Laughter gets you through.

Over the past few years, I have watched what I have known my entire life to be my grandfather and who he is slowly become taken away by a disease that doesn't quite seem as bad as one might think...

...but I'm here to tell you...

...it's worse.
It's worse than you can ever imagine.

I have watched one of the most active, independent men slowly regress to the point of no return.


...and over the past week or two?
It's only gotten worse.


I remember when I found out.
It was my freshman year of college, and I was walking through the Delta Chi parking lot on the way back from the Intramural Field after a game of flag football, when my mom called.

"We went to the doctor today with Peppy, and he has Alzheimer's."

I stopped dead in my tracks and asked,

"How long do I have before I come home and he doesn't know who I am?"


It's a horrific conversation to have, but even when you feel like you're at your most horrified about it, it only gets worse.

When they start babbling on and on about things that don't make sense,
or seeing little tiny people appear out of nowhere,
or get angry because you ask them not to uproot your grandmother's plants,
or cry because they can't remember someone's name...

...those things?

Those things are the things that break your heart.
Those things are the things that terrify you to your core because, the truth of the matter is that it's hereditary, and you may one day be the exact same way.

It's a scary thought, but even scarier than the thought of watching it all go down.


It begins to take a lot to make you cry because you can't help but do anything but laugh... because if you don't laugh? 

Well, then that's when you start to lose your mind just as quickly as the person who has the brain- and mind-deteriorating disease.

Laughter is the key to making it through.
Laughter and love.
and memories.

The good memories make it all  better.

Remembering his stories about softball,
or his silly songs and cantations,
or the way he laughed at himself,
or the his habit of picking up trash (no matter where he was),
or his obsession with walking,
or even the way he would get so mad sometimes that you thought he loathed you...



(I love those memories.
and I'll have 'em forever.)


With all this,
I've developed an especially devout respect for my grandmother and the things she puts up with on a daily basis.

I will love her forever for doing the things she does for my grandfather, and I will do anything to help her out.  It takes a strong woman to do what she's doing, especially emotionally.


I just hope that a least a few more times
(before it's all said and done)
that my Peppy miraculously remembers my name...
even if it's to call me "PeeWee" since that's what he always called me anyway...
because selfish or not, I think that's his way of telling me he loves me

and always will.

Me for... me.

"Even on my weakest days, I get a little bit stronger."
-Sara Evans



You tell me that you believe in me,
and that you will... no matter what.
(but you have a strange way of showing it)

You tell me you want to spend time with me,
"let's get to know each other better - we're family."
You tell me you want to do stuff together.
(but you have a strange way of showing it)

You tell me that the past is the past
and that you'd never say anything to hurt me.
You tell me that you know I've changed,
even that you know I've grown into a better person.
(but you have a strange way of showing it)

You get around me,
we talk,
we may even laugh,
but still...
things are never quite normal the way one would want them to be.

You say you're only asking questions to help me,
and you say that my decisions are my own,
that you'd never try to tell me what to do,
or say,
or wear,
or who to be.
(but you have a strange way of showing it)

You say that, above all else, you love me for me,
for who I am.
You say you'd never ask me to change.
(but you have a strange way of showing it)

And the strange thing is?

I still love you.
And I always will.
"We're family," remember?

Just do me a favor:
Love me for me.

Cause no matter what you do,
no matter what you say,
you're stuck with me.
"We're family,"
and family is like that scar...
it never goes away, no matter how badly you may wish it would sometimes.

I'm changing daily.
I'm evolving - into an even better version of me -
all I'm asking is for you to love that me,
not the me that you wish I was.

Because, truth be told...
I kind of love who I am.  :)

All of the
(but you have a strange way of showing it)
moments don't have to over-shadow everything.

If we could just learn to love each other for who we are,
I think we'd be just fine.

(and I nod)
Yes, just fine.

Perhaps even better.

Registration.

I met with my advisor today to talk about my Summer and Fall 2011 semesters.

Yet again, I say...

There is an end in sight, folks.  There really is!

I am registered for the first two of my final five semesters of school.
I couldn't be more excited than I am right now...
...well...
...maybe when I go to register for my FINAL semester.

Maybe then I will be more excited than I am right now.

We'll see.

Not just a little...

Today
was a day.

A long day.

But it was my day.


As I drove home tonight from work,
down that long stretch of interstate,

I listened to this:

  "I Miss You" by Incubus

(another Paula special)

For some reason,

it got me thinking...

When I love,

     I do it big.

I don't love a little,

or just partially.

I love BIG.

And tonight, I realized:

Not only does someone out there deserve to be loved big,

but so do I.

I want to love someone as big as I possibly can...

A quote comes to mind:

"I'm looking for love.  Real love.  Ridiculous, inconvenient, consuming, can't-live-without-each-other love."

- Carrie Bradshaw, 'Sex and the City'

 ...but I don't want to just give big love.

I want to receive it

because, gosh darn it,

I deserve it.

Somewhere out there is a man who will love me for me,

no matter what,

through thick and thin.

              Someone who will think I hung the moon.

        Someone who will get lost in my eyes the way I do in theirs.

                   Someone who will miss me (five minutes after they've left me).

A ridiculous love.

A BIG love.

and, well...

that's how it should be. 

over and over (in my head)

I have had two lines
of one song
stuck
in my head.

All.

Night.

Long.


"You got a gypsy soul to blame,
and you were born for leaving,
born for leaving."

...and...

"Well, it's a windy road
when you're in the lost and found."

[thanks, Zac Brown Band for making it apparently so catchy]



I just haven't been able to pin point exactly why it's those two particular lines that got stuck in my head...

...maybe there's no rhyme or reason...

...maybe I relate...

...but I don't think I have a gypsy soul to blame for anything.

Not running from things is part of the saying "yes" instead of "no" thing.



...hmm...


I'm going to simmer on these thoughts for a little bit,
and then I'll get back to you...

Until then,
I will continue
to hum
the same two lines
over
    and
       over
          and
            over.

(and I think you get the point)

;)

yes - instead of no.

I found myself browsing through emails today and stumbled upon this:

...for those of you who don't remember, this is kind of along the same lines as what my New Year's resolution was - to stop saying "no" to being happy and start saying "yes."

I think that's why I took a picture of this portion of this magazine article.


I couldn't tell you what the article was about because it was months ago,
but somehow I don't think that that is what is so important about this particular portion of my frantic, scatter-brained, and somehow methodical thought process(es).

Why? you may ask...

(well, I'll tell you)
(just give me a cotton-pickin' second)
;)



There's things going on in my life right now that I know in my heart I need to start
"Saying yes when I'm feeling no"
about.

It's all ultimately about making ourselves happy, right?

Well, I think I know some things that will make me happy.
Not only right now but also in the long run.

And I think
       just maybe
that I'm going to start
                   saying yes
             (instead of no).


[Don't worry - I'll keep you updated on how it all turns out because, like you, I'm pretty dog-on curious how this, and other things, will work out.]

:)