The Love of a Child

There's a boy in my life that never fails to make me feel happy, and to make me feel like I am unconditionally loved. 


He's two years old, and is like my tiny BFF. I didn't know that I'd love my job as much as I do when I first started watching him almost exactly a year ago, and now I can't imagine life without it. He's part of what makes my weeks go a little bit faster, and helps me hang on a little longer when things get hard. He's constantly hugging my leg when I don't expect it to tell me, "I luh dou, Sephy!"


It's amazing how much he's changed in this small amount of time as well. When I first started, the only word he knew how to say was "banana", and now he's at the point where he can tell me, "I feel happy!!" and it's about the cutest thing in the world. 


I think all of us need a child like this in our lives to remind us how we are to love God. He says we need to come to him like a child, and I can see this in the way that Brody follows me around and trusts me to catch him when he's literally about to fall down the stairs. 
It's just something to think about. 

Boxes

There's really nothing that beats sitting on the couch with the windows open while it's raining with a bowl of Blue Bell ice cream. It's a relief to know that God is sending precipitation to ease Colorado's drought and quench the fires! You all should have seen us on the 4th of July. It smelled like smoke everywhere, and the air was all hazy. It was nasty. However, today and yesterday, the skies finally opened up and have been spilling torrential downpours periodically without warning.

This is a picture of the word "Rain."

Ashley and I both had to work yesterday when it was raining like I haven't seen it rain in over a year. You'd all have a laughed watching us try and run out to our cars without getting our bags wet! I'd so brilliantly left my sketchbook, camera, Sour Patch Kids, peach rings, and Harry Potter book in my canvas backpack after I'd spent the morning at her house, and that plan sort of backfired onto me. The Deathly Hallows are now slightly wrinkled. Like a sixty-year-old man. 

Um, so anyway, I'd like to thank all the people out there that prayed for the rain to put out our wildfires. We all greatly appreciate it! Although, I'd encourage everyone to still pray for those who have lost their homes.
I'd also ask you to pray for the son of my co-worker, Chuy, who has been the bartender ever since I first started working at the restaurant two years ago. His son's name is Matteo and he had a brain tumor which was cancerous, and he was recently released from the hospital the other day, but is going back in for more surgery soon. Chuy is the sweetest guy I've ever met, and I've sort of seen him as a big brother figure at work, so it tears me apart to see him so sad and tired all the time. Please pray!

This is a picture of OCD.

In other news, I've spent the entire day registering for the ACT test and filling out online applications for different colleges, cowering the internet for good psychology programs at decently-priced schools.
It was funny, when I was filling out the interest inventory on the ACT website this morning, my mom caught me giggling about the things they put down. You were supposed to check one of three boxes for each choice: Like, indifferent, or dislike, and they had things like, "Draw a cartoon", or "help someone make an important decision."
At first, I thought this was kind of okay and normal, until I came to one that said, "Put things in boxes."
I laughed.
"What?" my mom asked, across from me on the other couch with a book about Nazis.
I explained to her what I was doing, and said, "I just...I just like to pack things into...boxes!"
She laughed.
I put both hands out in front of me and shook them like I couldn't resist picking things up. "What's this? The tissue box is empty? Pack it. PACK THE BOX."
Kristen appeared on the balcony and gave us a weird look, which was probably deserved, because we were just sitting in the family room dying of laughter, I myself making retarded-seal hand gestures.
"What are you guys doing?"
We explained, and she said slowly, "...I like to pack things into boxes."
Needless to say, mother and I could not contain ourselves. People with OCD, how we love them.
"Do you want to make birdhouses, too, Kristen??"

This is a picture of Boulder, Colorado.

But anyway, I've been sort of unsuccessful at finding a college out of state that isn't going to cost me a hand and a foot to attend, but I've learned that Colorado State University, where my sister goes, does not, in fact, have a better Psychology program than CU Boulder. Boulder is a party school. And they have a city-wide marijuana day. Does this sound safe to you? No, not really. I could end up with dreads and a drug rug and a recorder and play unimpressive music on the sidewalk next to some Gypsy selling jewelry he made out of tin cans.
There's always Moody Bible Institute. But you have to be impressive there.

Oh, also, this kid at my youth group, JT, and I led worship together with his guitar and my cello, and it was sick. My youth pastor's last day was Thursday, and for now, our senior pastor, Harlan, will be filling in until we get a new one. It makes me really sad, but I'm really excited for him and his family! They get to go back home to New Hampshire so that he can go back to college on a full ride scholarship. Awesome? Awesome.

In the mean time, maybe we'll do something fun at youth group. Like play the Hunger Games, bwahaha.

Found This On My Computer Today

Summer Thus Far

War wound! Stupid TVs. 

I've had an interesting last few weeks. I can't quite remember when I last updated, because I have a terrible memory, but I thought I'd try and keep up with my blogging so I have a record of things that I did this summer so I can convince myself I've actually done something.

It's amazing how much one appreciates being busy when they suddenly have nothing to do with themselves. I've started to experience since I've gotten back from Summit, and I'm actually starting to crave the brain-stimulating structure of school. Which is sort of sad and anti-teenager, I think. I have literally watched two seasons of Scrubs, one season of Grey's Anatomy, one season of I Shouldn't Be Alive, a season of Sherlock, and half a season of Doctor Who all on Netflix since the beginning of last month. I have also written 15,000+ words on the story I'm writing, sketched several pictures, ridden my horse...once, led worship at youth group several times, worked 24+ hour weeks for the last five weeks, lost my phone, learned to finger-pick on the guitar, ate a gallon of Blue Bell ice cream, and sliced a three-and-a-half inch gash into my thigh with a TV.

So, maybe I have been sort of productive.I feel like half of what I've done doesn't matter at all, and the other has made me a better rounded person. I still need to register for my ACT because I'm now on drugs (^-^), and for whatever reason, I've been putting it off forever because I'm sort of in denial that I'm actually going to be going to college in a year. How crazy is that? A year from now, I'll be getting ready to move into a dorm and find out who my room mate is, picking a major, and making a new life for myself. 

My godsisters came out to see us last week!

Dear God, I'm getting old. 


Concerning the future, I actually had something really awesome happen to me the other week. It was one-o-clock in the morning, and since I tend to put off going to bed for as long as I can, I decided to go lay outside on our concrete porch and look at the stars. I live out in the country, so it's easier to see them, and it feels like they're even brighter. 
I thought it might be good to pray. I was laying underneath the vast stretch of just a small part of God's glorious creation, and it occurred to me how small I really am. It had been on my mind to try to decide for sure what I want to do when I get to college, and what I want to pursue as a career in my life, so I thought I could maybe...ask God. In the Bible, I have seen that sometimes the prophets would ask the Lord for a sign so he could reveal to them the future, or to tell them how to make a decision. 

We're attractive.

My eyes were trained on the glittery sky, and I thought of something. In the quietness of my mind, I asked him, God, I know you can communicate if you want, and I believe you can deliver miraculous signs. I can't decide for myself if You want me to be a missionary, or a counselor. I feel an equal calling on my heart for both, and I can't choose. If you want me to be a counselor, send a shooting star to the left. If you want me to be a missionary, send one to the right. I'll listen.
I waited for a few minutes before something caught my eye. To my left, I saw a light shoot a small distance and then disappear. I thought, Are you sure?
A few seconds later, there was another to my left.
I know what He wants. It feels right to me.