Quite Simply, Life is Beautiful

First of all, today was a great day; as are most these days. I was almost late for school due to complications with my sister’s car resulting in my mother having to drive all three of us to separate schools. When I arrived, Rachel tackle-hugged me, but I kind of had to wriggle away ‘cause I was going to be late for Algebra. Which, in that class, I didn’t understand the lesson the least bit because I’m so mathematically handicapped. So that was frustrating. Anyhow, the passing period before the next class, I was like, “Okay, let’s try this again,” and then we were able to SNL roommate huggle.
During study hall in fourth period, I was forced to endure another period with the one woman mentioned in the Pink Shirt post who chews/pops gum and has it all the time. Let me give you a little tip, I will like you as long as you never, ever happen to have gum in your mouth. You lose a little of my respect every time I see you with it.
Also, Colorado recieved its first snow of the year today! Way to be late, weather.
After school, we were able to go to the coffee shop (down the street from school) following watching an Alive at 25 seminar, which does nothing for a teenager except for scare them out of ever wanting to drive again. “If you think this won’t happen to you, it will!”
Thank you, Riley Raincloud.
Anyhow, (erasing all bunnytrails) at the coffee shop, Rebekah, Rachel, Josh F. and I were able to hang out and just have a good time together. All of us, except maybe Josh - I think, got hot chocolate and some sort of baked goods to consume after such a long and exuberating day. I asked everyone about their day, because that’s what I do, and made conversation. I found out that Rachel saves all of my text messages (Everybody say ‘Aw!’). I found out that Rebekah is almost a black-belt. I learned that snorting sugar up your nose with a straw, as illustrated by Josh, is both painful and entertaining. And also that whenever I text Bekah or Rachel, they bounce around their rooms going, “Yayayay! I got a text message from Steph! Yayayay!” Which was, you know, kind of sweet in a juvenile sort of way, but I don’t really care one way or another.
After school (I just remembered I didn’t do the dishes…) I talked to Rachel on the phone for two hours and four minutes. Let me tell you, all those seconds really added up to an interesting conversation. It’s weird how you can be so blatantly honest with some friends, and never tell your family a thing about it. I feel like I could tell Rachel anything and she wouldn’t care the slightest bit. Like, if I was, say, lesbian, she’d probably still accept me for who I am. (That is truly an example; I’m as straight as yellow hay.)

I dunno. It was like we talked about anything and everything, no secrets anywhere. I can tell you right now, I haven’t just been able to do that for…what seems like forever. We talked about boys we’ve liked, friends we’ve had, freshman year, fights, school caste systems, my first day of this year compared to hers, suicide, depression, college, sound sensitivity, fun things, music, art styles, God, and just about everything that came to mind. Mind you, the brain of a teenage female can sure jump around from subject to subject.
I just…I don’t know, I wanted to post and say how much I really appreciated someone just sitting down with me for two hours and talking to me about everything under the sun and not getting tired of anything I have to say. That just hasn’t really happened with me for a long time. Honesty can be such a beautiful thing. Incredibly…freeing. Like, if you think I say too much about everything I feel about life on this blog, I’m sure you’d be surprised about the things which have never been mentioned here.
I’d like to make it official that I no longer have more bad things going on in my life than good. My little scale has been flipped around, and the good finally outweighs all the…shit. (Sorry for the sudden vulgarity, but there is no better word to place there, honestly.) I’d also like to make it official that, while I still think about suicide, I don’t think it’s worth it anymore. I have too much to be happy about and thankful to God about right now to speed up the process of death, which I’m sure some of you will be happy to hear. Just speaking with Rachel today has reminded me of really how far I’ve come. It’s kind of awesome to look back on and see how God has been providing for me all along, even in the places where I thought nothing good would ever come out of.
I love it, quite simply.

“Are you upset little friend? Have you been lying awake worrying? Well, don't worry...I'm here. The flood waters will recede, the famine will end, the sun will shine tomorrow, and I will always be here to take care of you" ~Charlie Brown to Snoopy

No, Your Other Right!

Today was a good day. Guess why? Because I, Stephany Lewis*, have gotten my driver’s permit. Hey, yah. I have now officially driven from my house up the road to our mail box. Am I cool, or am I cool?

This morning, I woke up at eight forty-seven to make up for my late night. Isn’t it funny how you will always tell yourself to be in bed by, say, ten; but end up staying up until twelve-thirty? Yeah, that’s my life. Anyway, my mother had bought some Toaster Streusels from the grocery store, which never ever happens, so I popped one in the toaster and put the frozen icing in the microwave. About fifteen seconds later, I hear a loud pop and see that the tiny, plastic packet of sugar had exploded under the heat and was now all over the microwave. Well, I thought, that’s fun.
I cleaned it up and pulled to pastry out of the toaster. Naturally, it was cold when I bit in, and so I placed it in the microwave and burned myself trying to take it out. I can’t do anything right, can I?
So I grabbed a spatula out of a drawer and lifted it out carefully, then ate from it awkwardly with the long handle sticking up straight in the air.
“Steph?”
I spun around to see my mother, her hair wet from a shower, standing in the middle of the kitchen. She gave me a weird look, but thankfully didn’t say anything while I lowered my breakfast from my mouth. “We’re going to leave in about forty-five minutes to go get your permit,” she said. “Do you think you’ll be ready by then?”
“Yes,” I said without hesitation.
As planned, forty minutes later, we were both in the kitchen. But, as had not been planned, we were running around like madwomen trying to find A.) my birth certificate, B.) my Alive At 25 legal document, and C.) the car keys.
“Okay, where was the last place you saw it?”
“Not helping!”

Thankfully, praise God, we were able to locate all three of those items, and were off towards the DMV ten minutes later. Once there, as the sign so indicated, I took a number, and my mother and I found seats to wait in until our number, thirteen had been called. The cool thing about being homeschooled is that the lines at the DMV are not very long during the school day when everyone else is at school, and not here to get their permits. So, within ten minutes, I was occupied taking the vision test.

“Okay, in a second, you’re going to see a blinking light,” the guy instructed me. “Tell me right or left.”

A light blinked on one side, but I couldn’t remember which way was right and which was left. “Uh…”
After that was the written test. The woman at the desk told me I could miss only five, and that I would go take it next to the wall over there.
“There” was a pretty vague description of where she actually wanted me to be. So when I found a seat and was just about to answer Question One, a voice barked, “No! You’re supposed to take it over there.”
She pointed this time to a row of booths where I was to stand as I took the test.
Haha, right. This is why I never go out in public.
What seemed like an hour later, I was finally confident in all of my answers and took my test over to be graded before my very eyes. The entire time I was praying, Please, God, let me pass this test. In the name of Jesus, please let me pass because I didn’t have any instruction and I didn’t study and I don’t want inconvenience my parents to bring me again to retake-
Shiz.
The crossed off the sixth problem and my heart sank. She turned it around and grinned. She freaking grinned at me. Is that how you treat a fifteen-year-old whose hopes have been dashed? No, that’s not.
“So,” she said, starting her sentences off like I normally do. Grr. “You passed the test.”
Whaaat?! No way.

I pumped a fist.

“Technically,” she continued, “you missed six, but because this law changed since this test was written,” she circled one problem marked with red pen, “you only missed five. Congrats!”

Well, hot darn.
She handed me something legal-looking and told me to go give it to this other dude standing across the room so he could put my information into the system. I turned slowly on my heel and caught my mom’s eye and grinned.
I gave the man my height, weight, eye, and hair color, and then we didn’t have my social security number for him. So I called my father, because he usually has the answers to such questions. Unfortunately, he was on a business trip and couldn’t find it for me.
“How about I call the secretary at my work in Denver and she can find it for me in my files?” he rationalized, seeing that my mother did not want to drive all the way back home to tear through his home office.
But, naturally, his secretary didn’t pick up the phone.
Dejected, my mom and I went out to lunch, hoping that he could find it on his computer like he’d told us he might have it on after he came back from his meal with a client. So my mom and I found a Tokyo Joe’s to scarf a teriyaki steak bowl for two while we planned how we could find said combination. My dad called about halfway through our lunch and informed us he couldn’t find it anywhere on his laptop, and that he was really sorry.
I was kind of crushed, but then we got a phone call right after from his secretary giving me the numbers I needed.
Back at the DMV, I had another couple of Epic Steph Moments (capitalization needed) while finishing up the process of becoming permitted.

There was the Asian guy behind the desk who talked entirely too fast. I couldn’t understand a thing he said. “Woodyoolktbeanorgnndonarrr?”
Excuse me?
“Sure,” my mom answered for me.

“Can you sign this?” another lady behind a desk asked me.

Well, certainly, I thought, signing the paper which was placed over a screen so they could record my signature on the computer. It took three tries.
“Put your right index finger on this scanner,” she instructed shortly thereafter.

So I put my right index finger on the scanner.

“Um, your right index finger.”

So I put my middle finger on it instead, thinking maybe it was the wrong finger.

“Right! Index!”

Oh, of course. My other right.

So. That's Fun.

I feel like I ruin everything. I can’t seem to get along with my family very well. I mean, my parents are good and all, but I think I fail them way too much. I fail my siblings all the time, too. Nothing I do is ever good enough for anyone.
Take today for example. All day, my back has been killing me. I didn’t bring my cello to band practice because it was too heavy, and all day I’ve been twisting in my chair trying to pop this one part of my spine behind my shoulder blade on the left side. This evening when I came home, the pain was so bad I had trouble carrying my school bin inside because of the weight. As soon as I got inside, I went to my room with a tennis ball and tried lying on the floor and trying to roll it between me and the carpet so my back would pop and relieve the pain, but it didn’t. After dinner, it was my turn to do dishes, and I felt like I couldn’t do them because of having to stand up and lean down over and over again. I was just in too much pain.
So what did I do? I asked my mom if she could possibly do them for me. She didn’t believe my story, so she told me to ask Kristen. My sister didn’t believe me either, and she apparently felt horrendous, so she told me to ask Daniel. Daniel, who was on my laptop doing homework, flew into a rage when I asked him. I told him that I would switch him my dishes night now for his tomorrow. He still refused, so I rationalized, “Why should I let you use my computer for homework if you won't switch dishes nights because of my back?”
He bitched about it, and then sent me down to ask Dad. I explained my dilemma to him, saying nobody will believe me and I just can’t do the dishes tonight. He told me to tell Daniel to come down and talk to him.
On my way back up the stairs, I was met by my red-faced brother who snapped, “Take your stupid computer!”
I’m guessing Dad convinced him to do the dishes, because soon afterwards as I lay in bed, I could hear plates and silverware tinkling as they were placed in the dishwasher. About fifteen minutes later, I received a nasty text message from Daniel which had a bad, all-too-familiar aftertaste of Michael Newman to it:

“Hey Steph! I just want to thank you for making me do the dishes today! It gave me a giant migraine that makes me want to puke! Also, thanks to you, I have a missing grade in Spanish I can’t make up! Just thought I’d let you know.”

Um.

Sorry?

What in the world was I supposed to say to that? “I’m sorry my back hurt?”

Not only do I fail Daniel, I also feel like my dad disapproves of me. He’s subtly insulted me a few times at dinner about my face and features, and has started grumbling and giving me frustrated looks every time I ask him to eat in another room. Today he snapped at me, “Why do you guys fight all the time?”

Whenever I ask him if we can go get my permit, he always exhales quickly, like a sigh, before answering me. I don’t know if it’s just that he’s frustrated at work, or if he doesn’t like me, but it still hurts all the same. I don’t see him doing it to my siblings. Maybe he liked me better when I used to stay in my room all night crying and he didn’t ever have to see me.
I'm so good at hiding when I'm hurt. Nobody even suspects a thing.

"...And If God Cares So Wonderfully For His Wildflowers...He Will Certainly Care For You" (Matthew 6:30).

Top of the morning to you all, my beloved bloggers! I hope you have all been having a great week and that God is providing for you in every way that you, personally, need him to be.

Up until about eleven-thirty at night yesterday, my day had been kind of a wreak. It was a Pink Shirt day, and by that, I mean every stinkin' time I wear my pink uniform polo shirt to school, I manage to have a bad day.

It started out with a delightful [read: horrible] math test that I didn’t know anything about until we walked into class. I hope, I thought, I’m allowed to use my calculator for these simple matrix calculations, because that's exactly what I'm doing. It was one of those instances where you’re not sure if you’re breaking the rules, but nobody says anything otherwise, so you just don’t ask. Like how if a teacher doesn’t specifically tell me to not use Wikipedia, I totally will.

History was cool, except that I’d totally spaced and not done half of the homework the day before. After filling out this long chart about Roman emperors, we were supposed to read a packet and annotate it about the Martyrdom of Polycarp. In class, he paired us off to talk about it and Jake had to explain the whole thing to me, which was a little bit embarrassing. It was interesting, but I’d kind of wished I’d remembered to do it, you know?

At lunch, the girl who I replaced, Holly, came back for a visit and stayed for fifteen minutes. You can't even imagine how out-of-place I felt. Everyone was jumping around and squealing, “Hollyhollyhollyholly! Omigosh I missed you sooo much! Omigosh I love you! Bleh-di-bleh-di-bleh!”

I stood off to the side, trying to think of what to do with my hands so I didn’t look like a freaking idiot while I watched everyone embrace her. Crossed, behind back, pockets, to the side. Should I go sit with the guys? Should I say anything? Should I not? What if I say something stupid and she thinks I’m an idiot?

So I didn’t say anything at all and waited until she had finally left. But afterwards, all the other girls were suddenly sad and nostalgic. This was hard for me, because I never know how to behave when people act that way. Rachel was quiet throughout Spanish as well, so I tried my hardest to make her laugh or lift her spirits some. I don’t know if I actually accomplished anything, or if she felt any better. But finally, the class was over, and I went to Study Hall.

Usually in my second study hall period, I get to sit in the teacher’s lounge by myself so I can focus and not have to worry about the monitor having gum. But today was different. The people who own the church we hold classes in were using our normal study hall room for something else. So now everyone was in the teacher’s lounge, where I normally get to sit. Then I had to worry about again feeling awkward around the juniors and all of the other kids in that period because I’m the only one who sits entirely by myself. Nobody even made an effort to talk to me. And the study hall monitor had gum that popped as a result of the way she chewed.

I wanted. To die. The only redeeming part of the day was after school when Jake talked with me for a while. But then after I got into the car, Kristen informed me that she was sick and I had to work in her place at the restaurant. So, I had to miss my only cello lesson I’d had in months so I could run around like a chicken seating people, grabbing silverware, and making sure the people on the waiting list didn’t get pissed and leave. The waitress Brittany and the other hostess, Caily, complained about life and vulgar language spewed like a fountain from their mouths.

Later last night when I was laying in bed reading my journal from freshman year (Before Common Blog, BCB), I was again reminded about how the definition of hardship last year and the hardship this year are so much different. I remembered that, you know, things could be worse. I could be at my old school enduring another long year of gum popping and being made fun of. I could be really depressed, or even no longer existing. I thought, you know? I think I can deal with a little awkwardness. This is exactly where God wants me to be.

Then I flipped back in my Bible to my favorite verse, Matthew 6:26, and read through the entire chapter for the first time in a while. I caught something new this time after reading it. It says in verse 31, “… ‘but your heavenly Father already knows all your needs. Seek the Kingdom of God above all else, and live righteously, and he will give you everything you need. So don’t worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring its own worries. Today’s trouble is enough for today.’”

Too easily, I can forget what God has already done for me. But just as easily, I know I can lay all my troubles on Him, because he already knows all my troubles and has told me He will give me everything I need if I trust Him. I want to challenge all of you to do the same this week as you face the troubles in your life.

Until then.

Parks and Recreation (and Cupcakes)

A few things have happened this week which I have particularly enjoyed. First of all, yesterday my class went to the Denver Zoo for Biology and we had lots of fun. Unfortunately, we were on such a tight schedule that we didn't really get to look at anything for a very long time. I didn't see any gazelles, saw only one ostrich and just one giant elephant shrew, and the flamingos had disappeared. Was I disappointed? Hoh, yeah. We didn't even get to see the baby elephant shrews which were in the animal nursery! However, overall, the trip itself was pretty fun.

Yesterday, Hannah, Rachel, Bekah, and Alyssa spent the night at my house. After our perch dissection in seventh period Biology (gross, gross gross), everyone, all the boys, too, went and hung out at the park which is a few blocks away from our school. The boys played football, and us girls sat around and chatted. We also made a circle and prayed together, which was pretty cool. After a bit, the guys joined us to play in the kids equipment not far from the field. I feel like whenever the boys are involved with anything, the class gets divided into sub-cliques. Rachel and Jake; Bekah with Alyssa, Aiden, and Nathan; Kaleb with Brice and the others; and Hannah floated easily between all of them; but then there was me. I didn't know where I fit. It was like when you put together a jig-saw, but somehow there's one extra piece. After a bit, I just kind of gave up and stood on the edges of the circles. I hate it when that happens.

Then my mom came and picked us up to get us five girls to go over to my house. I had to ride shot-gun (notice the "had to" in there?) on the way home, and the other sifted through my iPod which was plugged into the tape adapter.

The remainder of the night consisted of decorating cupcakes like monsters using various candies, having a little worship session with guitar and vocals, long walks around the property, and watching a movie. I think it's funny that God worked it out that I learned guitar just in time for my new group of friends.  Bekah's a fantastic vocalist who can lead, and so the five of us just...decided to worship God together. It was really cool.

Then after that, we decided to go out and take walk, which ended up taking two hours due to our pit-stop in a ditch to lay in the damp grass and look at the stars above. The night was lit with a full moon, and so we didn't really have to be afraid of what we couldn't see. In that pit, we continued to sing and discuss how awesome our God really is. How he makes everything work out for good. Like how their friend, Holly, left the group just in time for me to come in and be embraced. It probably sucked for the other girls to see their sister leave, but God knew that at this specific time, I was in need of such a group. Holly and I even have the same personality! And high fives, apparently. How cool is God?

We laid out on the trampoline and looked at the sky, side by side for a few hours, and I finally shared my entire story of last year. I even told them about my being suicidal and how I was going to, you know, do it. But I felt it was necessary for them to hear it so that they knew how much they mean to me. I couldn't even express it in words how greatful I was for all four of them! My eyes started watering some, and because I'd been using The Colossal mascara, my eyes stung and watered more. (Hence, do not buy non-waterproof Colossal!) But they all enveloped me into a sandwich hug/dog pile and told me how much they all loved me. I thought my heart was going to burst.

Afterwards, we went downstairs to watch a movie. Alyssa had brought A Cinderella Story (the one in the nineties with Hilary Duff - gotta' love it :), which brought back so many memories because I used to watch it all the time when I was in sixth grade. Rachel feel asleep about half way through, and after it was over, the four of us barely hanging onto consciousness crashed on the basement couches and floor.

Notice we didn't talk about boys, we didn't play M.A.S.H., and didn't even think about playing Truth or Dare. One more reason I love these kids. (Actually, that's a lie; we did talk about boys the next morning, but that was only because I'm insanely good at reading people and they all wanted to know what I had observed.)

But, yeah, the sleepover was great!

David Crowder Band, "Shine"

My Day: List 1

Top Thorns in My Side:

-         - My best friend, Ashley is in Hawaii and wasn’t at church or youth group tonight. Really, BFF? Really?

-         - I thought I was going the zoo tomorrow. I guess it’s actually going to be on Thursday. The ostriches and the gazelles will have to wait. I hope they don’t die.

-         -  My brother being twelve and making all kinds of sexual jokes because he’s in middle school and thinks they’re funny. He also refuses to cut his hair, which has grown into a large strawberry mushroom superdome.

-          Being hungry all the time. I might be PMSing or something, but I swear, I’ve been hungry all day for the last few days and I think I’ve gained a few pounds.

-          Being tired all day.

-          Getting a haircut and still not liking it. Why can’t I look good in anything? Is it the glasses? (I’m getting contacts, by the way!)

-          Not oozing talent in all the right places. Why, oh, why can I not ever understand math?

-          Having a migraine all day.

-          Not going to bed when I want to. I told myself to go to bed an hour ago!

-          Ruby not living closer to me. Some of my friends I just wish lived in a bubble with me where we could be the only people in the world around and not have to worry about others.

-          Having all my school friends live all over Colorado instead of in my hometown.

Top Sugar Plums on My Candy Mountain:

-        Maggie-the-floor-mop-dog is now shaved down. Praise the Lord, she looks like an animal! And doesn’t smell like a warthog truck on steroids.

-          Being able to talk to Ruby for a long time today.

-          Starting a project on hammerhead sharks. (Hammerheadhammerheadhammerhead.)

-          I had five Facebook notifications all having to do with someone interacting with ME for once in my life. I feel so loved. Thank you, Internet.

-          Thanks to my youth pastor, his wife, and my prayers, I was able to get off work early and go to youth group on time for once! It’s amazing how easily you can change the course of events in life just by asking God if he could help you out a little. I’m not kidding, the restaurant was dead today.

-          I didn’t fight with any of my siblings today.

What about you guys? Post a list of four bad things and four good things that happened to you today.

Guitars and Soap Bars

Before I begin, due to some recent occurrences, all comments will have to be approved by me before they are posted. (If you're thinking, "Wait, what? Is that my fault?" it's probably not. This person will know exactly who he or she is.) Lame, right? I'm sorry, I really am. But, it's now kind of necessary, I don't want to go into details, but please don't let it deter you from commenting! I love all of you and I thoroughly enjoy all of your feedback. Now that that's out of the way, enjoy the post :)

"So, a guitar this week?" Rachel asked before school as we all waited in the bin room for school to start. It was Tuesday. Because I'd worked three days in a row and I was sore, Jake and I had decided after school to practice with his fiddle and my guitar. This way, I didn't have to carry a huge honkin' stringed instrument all over the place and strain my back.
"Yeah. Maybe next week I'll bring my cello," I said.

I wasn't totally sure about practice this week since the time before when we'd played together, while it was fun, was just a tad bit awkward with just Jake and I. But, later in the day, Rachel had said she was staying, too, which was good, because I prefer larger groups any day!

That afternoon directly after classes, all of us changed out of our uniforms and headed over to the church building to set up. Only, now our group of three had grown to, I didn't know, eight, maybe. Kaleb was there, and so was Rebekah along with Tisha and her brother, Mark. Willis, also, hung around for a little bit before heading home.

To begin, I'd started playing "Hosanna" on my guitar, because it was one of the few songs I knew. And then Rebekah started singing along with me and harmonizing, which I totally hadn't expected. After that song, and multiple mistakes, we'd then started "Revelation Song" together. And it sounded really cool.

I've always wanted to start a band, and I though, gosh-darn; if both Jake and I can play guitar, I can sing with Rebekah, and if Brice plays the drums? we could actually make a pretty cool praise team. Rachel could even be our merch-girl and hand out fliers!

Bekah's dad came in to pick her up after a little while, and being the guitar genius he was, agreed to stay and play a couple more worship songs so his daughter and I could practice singing together before they left.

Afterwards, Jake eventually tried to play some fiddle stuff with me on guitar. Because my sound isn't what it ought to be, and my pick-strum pick-strum motions don't make the greatest noise, he quite literally took the guitar into his own hands.

Taking my pick and looking me in the eye, he asked, "Do you mind if I swear real quick?"

I hesitated, raising an eyebrow. "Um, why...?"

"No, just - can I swear really quick? It's not bad."

Rachel and I shared a look. "Um, sure?" I said.

"One of my teacher told me that it's supposed to sound like," he strummed and said at the same time, "'boom-sh*t, boom-sh*t, boom-sh-'"
"Jacob!" I exclaimed.

We almost died laughing.

Today, I brought Jake a bar of soap to wash out his mouth, which he carried around and bit periodically to make us bust out laughing during class and get weird looks from teachers.

So, I'm really feeling like I'm getting to know the people at my school a lot better. Rachel and Rebekah especially, and I'm beginning to have a lot more fun at school than I used to. It's amazing to think back and know that school used to be like a war zone to me, and now I actually look forward to attending. And aside from tucking in shirts, I don't even really mind having to wear uniforms!

Things just keep getting better and better. Next week, I'm planning on throwing a chick-flick party at my house after school. And on Monday, my Biology class is going to the zoo! (And Jake and I can take a picture by the elephant shrews for the Shrew Crew :)

I'm also doing a hammer-head shark presentation with Rachel, which is due on Tuesday, and I know that I don't need to be stressed out about it. I've got all of tomorrow and Sunday to work on it, and I've got a partner that isn't going to let me down. It's funny, that seems to be a huge difference with the people at this school - they all respect one another. I mean, what does it say about our society if the kids I used to know never respected the teachers or, for that matter, other students?

This is kind of a random tangent, but the absolute biggest thing I can now see is that the kids are a lot happier here at BWHS*. But at my old school, those who didn't have Christ living in them were always trying to fill their lives with things that would never satisfy. There's a hole inside everyone's heart which can only be filled with God's love. Kids will search for love in sex, drugs, alcohol, dating, possessions, and nothing will ever make them feel happy enough. No matter what they turn to, something will always be missing if they do not have Christ in their everyday lives. I ache for kids like that. They will look in all the wrong places and quite possibly never fill that desire for happiness.

One story from the Bible which comes to mind is in John chapter 4 when Jesus talks to the Samaritan woman by the well. He says to her in verses 13 and 14, "'Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give him will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give him will become in him like a spring of water welling up to eternal life'".

There is a great article I found about this, and the link is right here if you're interested.

I know this is the most quoted Bible verse ever, but it's also holds the most meaning to everybody.
"For God so loved the world, He gave His one and only Son so that whoever would believe in him," to acknowledge that Christ died to pay the penalty for your sins, "would not perish but have everlasting life" (John 3:16).

Has anyone else noticed anything similiar in your schools? I feel like it's a big topic worthy of discussion.

Sound Sensitivity Matters!

So, I think we've all been over how I've got misophonia/4S, but we've got some new followers to my blog that don't know about it and I found a great website about it! It's called Misophonia UK, and totally made my day when I found it! But, yeah, I'm Stephany Lewis* and I've got level five misophonia. Sound sensitivity matters! I'm not totally crazy.

What is misophonia?
"Misophonia, also known as selective sound sensitivity syndrome, is a newly-diagnosed neuro-otological disorder that affects children and adults. Sufferers can feel immediate and intense rage at others’ eating and breathing sounds, about which they become hyper-aware and obsessed, sometimes with an ability to recall trigger incidents years after the event. The condition often sets off a “fight or flight” panic reaction in the sufferer and has been responsible for ruining relationships, breaking up families and leaving those most acutely affected suicidal."

I know some of you guys at school heard me talking about it a little, but this is the reality of my life. I had to change schools because I couldn't stand kids eating in class and chewing/popping gum. I've been depressed because of it and I've been suicidal. If you do have it, I pity you, and if you don't, please don't tease me about it. Don't get offended if I react to noises that you would dub as "normal". I really can't help the reaction I have. I've tried. If you have any questions about it, let me know! If you're still curious, read this.

Thanks!
-Steph

(PS: Does anyone else think that they have it? I'd be absolutely beside myself :)

Stuffy Stephy :(

This weekend has been long. It has nothing to do with the fact that my mother's parents were in town, but with the fact I have finally caught a cold. I started getting a sore on Friday after our frog dissection (which was really fun, by the way) in the car while I was driving home from school. By Saturday, I was feeling like crap and my grandma and my grandpa went with my parents to Daniel's football game, leaving Kristen and I home alone until work started.

So I'd kind of woken up and stumbled downstairs to eat some toast and made myself some Celestial Seasonings throat-tamer tea. I'd also taken some cough syrup and still didn't feel any better all afternoon. Not only that, but I was periodically exploding in sneezes and flinging all kinds of germs into the air, possibly infecting the rest of my lovely family.

At work, I made sure I didn't sneeze (which was really, really hard) and not to touch my face. I washed my hands often like a good employee so that my boss couldn't fire me for spreading my sickness to the remainder of the staff. I think Chuy caught it anyway, 'cause he said he was feeling sick today. Sorry!
Now today, because we finally, finally sold our condo in the mountains, my family minus Kristen and I was obligated to bring everything in it that we wanted to keep back down to where we live. [Ergo, due to the facts that A.) I am quite accustomed to walking downstairs in the middle of the night without the lights on and B.) we have all kinds of random furniture all over the place, I tripped over three things in a row and walked into a bench.] That took the whole day, but my sister and I had to stay because we had work to do. So, like any other good little Christian girls on a Sunday, we went to church.

Today, I was sputtering and sneezing and way beyond tired. I could hardly keep my eyes open during service. Afterwards when I was standing around with the other adults and talking, Mandee mentioned that if you gargle hydrogen peroxide and water, you get over your cold within a day. "You know how it kind of foams on your cuts and gets rid of the bacteria?" she said. "It kind of does the same thing in your throat."

So when I got home, I decided to try it.

"What are you doing?" Kristen asked skeptically from across the kitchen.

"Gargling this," I told her nonchalantly, pouring the concoction into my mouth.

I gargled for a few seconds and then spewed it across the island when an intense burning sensation closed my throat. I promptly gagged into the sink.

"Aaagnn!" I groaned loudly, pain searing my vision.

Foam started to form in my throat and make its way up through my mouth. I spit it into the sink where it continued to hiss.

The look on Kristen's face was somewhere between amused and thoroughly disgusted. "Are you okay?"

I found it within me to contain myself and look up, the pain beginning to cease. "Yeah. Whoof!"

"Does that hurt?"

"Hyaw, I did. It was kind of a good pain, though. I kind of feel a little clearer."

Then I took one of those things you use to suck snot out of babies with and sucked a little of the solution into it. I shot it up one nostril.

Bad. Idea.

I howled in pain and gripped the side of the counter, shaking my head quickly from side to side. I blew out foamy mucus into a napkin, and, after a minute, my agony came to an end. I looked at Kristen. "Well that burned like hell," I said with a straight face as I wiped my teary eyes.
She laughed and I tilted my head back to shoot it up the other.

Quote of the Day: "Flamingos are just gay storks" (Stephany Lewis*).

Solve For 5y+3x > Steph

Do you ever wonder what happens to the kids who just are incapable of passing math? Like, what if they really, really couldn't understand math concepts and just failed everything? Do they have special math classes for them? Do they stick them in with the special ed kids? Can they even graduate high school?

I'm one of those kids who can be taught the same lesson over and over again, and still not get it. Which is unfortunate because I go to a tiny private school that doesn't have after school math help, and my only hope of getting a tutor would be during seventh period - when I happen to have Biology. My test scores are becoming lower and lower. First, I got a C-, and an F this Friday. (F for Friday! My life is alliterated.)

When it would often take a normal child with an average brain thirty minutes to do fifteen problems, it takes me one hundred and fifteen. Take tonight for example: I sat on the couch from seven-thirty to eight and did five problems. (Actually, that's a lie - I copied them down from the back of the book because I quite honestly had absolutely no idea how to begin the problem.) I was almost at the point of tears. My mom walked in the room and said, "What's wrong?"

I looked at her. "I don't know how to do these," I choked. "Do you think it's okay to cheat and get the answers from the back?"

"Can't you call your teacher?" she sat down on the coffee table in front of me.

I slammed my textbook shut. "She has three small children which occupy her life."

"They're probably in bed by now."

"I dunno," I said, "I've sat her for an hour and a half and gotten nowhere. I don't know if a phone call is going to help me much."

I pulled my test out from my notebook. "Look, an F!"

She pulled a face seeing that I was about three seconds from bawling. "I know what it's like to not get things," she said, taking the test from my gently.

I swallowed painfully. "I don't understand why I'm so stupid."

"You're not stupid."

"Yes I am."

She told me to call my teacher.

So I did, and, of course, she didn't pick up. So I told her that I'd been at my math since seven-thirty and didn't know how to do anything. I also informed her I wouldn't have my homework completed by tomorrow and quite obviously needed some help.

So, currently, I'm sitting in my room writing this and listening to Skillet's Collide album as loud as my stereo will go. Loud music helps some, I've found.

Does anyone else ever feel this way? I seem to be about the only kid who's this mathmatically handicapped.

Consecutive Good Days in a Row: 2

Yesterday was a good day, even though I got my first F on a test. I was able to make Rachel's day better by being the only one to notice that she was sad and needed a hug. I watched an educational video about sharks with my little brother. And Jake called me at seven to see if I could participate in his orchestra, and even though I couldn't, we proceeded to talk on the phone for an hour and a half. We decided that we need to go busking (the act of playing music on a busy sidewalk for money) sometime. And we also need start a band.
I think I've just found two new great friends!

Today, my sister and I had thought we were headed up to the mountains. But, this morning, my dad was leveling the yard (again) with a rental tractor. So, apparently we weren't. Instead, she, my mom, and I went shopping in Boulder.
After a few hours and two pints of Ben and Jerry's ice cream, we ran into Michael Anderson's family in a vintage candy store. Michael is the one who's in love with Kristen, remember? I was beside myself.
"Hey!" I exclaimed. It's not often that we find people we know out of context. Let alone in Boulder. "Andersons!"
I think Michael's heart almost jumped out of his chest at the sight of Kristen. "Woah!" he said, shaking his head. "Is this sheer conincidence?"
No, Michael, we're stalking you.

There is something I'd like to say on the subject of hippies. In Boulder, there are more than enough hippies to go around. Really, people, could you be any more whimsical?
"Hey look!" my mom exclaimed while we sipped Starbucks, pointing across the street at a man wearing shorts and no shirt with shoulder length golden hair. "It's Blonde Jesus!"
Kristen nearly sprayed her coffee all over herself.
In an art gallery, I overheard an old guy wearing a tassled tie-dye shirt, long grey hair, and ripped jeans saying, "Oh, Mercury. I see. I have a friend who's just had a baby they called "Mercury", I'll have to tell him about this."
Excuse me?
There were countless overweight women in dreadlocks with jangly belly-dancing sashes. My mom promptly began to make jokes about them whenever they tinkled past. "Couldn't you see meee wearing that?"
Bad. Mental. Image. "Daniel would be scarred for life," I coughed.

Now, in conclusion after seeing the University of Colorado campus, I'll say I'd like to go there, major in psychology, minor in music or art, and then return to my reletives in Nebraska wearing a Buffs shirt. Take that, you Cornhuskers!

Coffee Break

I know I haven't posted since last week, so I'll give you a little life update. Here we go:

I kind of had a bad day on Friday. I don't know if it had anything to do with the fact that I was wearing a pink shirt, but something was definitely different. I don't know why, but I wasn't really feeling included by everyone. Nobody really talked to me, with the exception of, like, Jake and Ben. And I guess there was this party after school that I didn't know anything about. So it kind of sucked knowing that I had to go to work and wasn't told about this. It's a little hard to be the only new kid who doesn't know any of their jokes from freshman year, who doesn't know anybody very well, and is also exceptionally shy. I'm in the group; just not in the group.

And so, because it is my first reaction to everything these days, I went home and cried about it. Crying annoys me because I know consciously that teenagers can only think with their imigdula. This part of the brain is purely emotions, and not logic. The frontal lobe deoesn't even do anything. So, in the part of my brain that doesn't control emotions, I know that I'm crying about nothing. But my imigdula has other ideas. "No, we're going to cry now," it says.
Urg.

However, today was much better.

To start, I woke up on time. I made coffee that didn't burn my tongue. I wore my Vans instead of my dorky Pumas with my special shoe inserts and instantly felt just a little cooler.

In Algebra II, I didn't get the test back that I took on Friday and hadn't been prepared for. Some would say that this even was unfortunate, but I was glowing inside. I didn't really want a D on a paper today.

In History, we've been studying the ancient Greeks. And so today, we talked about warfare (which I've always found interesting). That in itself kind of made my day.

While sitting next to Rebekah in World Lit., I received a long note in my notebook about how much she loved me and thought I was not only beautiful, but awesome. Rachel also decided to do the same thing. I have now taped both the notes on the wall next to my desk to remind me I have friends.
Also, randomly in the middle of the day, Willis asked Jake why he had music in his take-home folder.
"Oh, um, I was going to give it to someone," he said. Then he called me over and handed it to me, because he knows I play cello and his quartet needed such an addition. Unfortuantly, he lives about an hour away from me and didn't work out; but it was still kind of sweet. Wrapped in a thick layer of awkwardness, but still sweet. I appreciated it.

To top it all off, I got my second study hall switched so I can sit in the teacher's lounge in peace instead of having to deal with gum-popping study hall moniters and loud kids. Some of us have 4S, people. I was able to sit quietly and read Pride and Prejudice and draw dinosaurs for an hour, which was nice.

After school, a few of us went to the coffee shop down the street to hang out. I'd totally missed out on the memo that we were supposed to bring extra clothing to change into. So, when everyone else had normal stuff to change out of, I stayed in my khakis and polo shirt.

Life: 237. Steph: 0.

Kristen had called me after we were sitting at a table to ask when she should pick me up, and I told her, "Well, I'm hanging out with friends - because I have them now - at the coffee shop. So...four-thirty?"

The other kids laughed.

"Tell her I said hi," Jake whispered loudly.

So I did, and then Rachel said the same thing. Squosh, as well.

The four of us, including Aiden, walked to a park to play for a while. It was all just...a lot of fun. I even recieved a couple hugs before I left.

Sharing My Story

I was interviewed this evening at youth group by a few guys who were filming a few kids' testimonies for a Meet Me At the Flag Pole day. I don't think I've ever shared it aloud before to anyone, let alone men with cameras and Chris Johnson, but it was fairly nerve-wracking. So, I'd trotted in shortly before they had begun to pack up (I was the last person to go), and they said they'd film me anyway before they left. I said cool, and was sat down on the sofa with a microphone clipped to my collar.
The guy began to ask my questions. "What does Jesus mean to you?"
"Jesus..." I began slowly, trying to put the words together right, "is my savior," I said. "Not just because he died for me, but also because he saved me. I mean, I might not still be here today if I didn't have him. I could be dead."
Chris' eyes slowly widened as he sat behind the guy with a camera trained on me.
He asked if I'd like to share a bit of how I got to know Jesus.
"I've always been a Christian," I said. "I mean, I grew up in a Christian home - but I didn't really have a close relationship with him until this past year. I was being made fun of at school and was really depressed, and I have 4S, which magnifies sounds so I can't stand gum and chips and stuff. The only escape I could come up with was killing myself."
"So...how did Jesus play into this?" he inquired.
"Every time I'd come home from school depressed, my mom would tell me to go read my Bible and verses would just pop out at me and really encourage me," I said. "Then I'd been praying really hard so I could get into this one school I had no chance of getting into, but look where I am today!" I gestered to my BWHS* hoodie I then sported. "I was accepted. Jesus has really helped me."
"And what would you like to tell other kids who are depressed or suicidal?"
"Just...don't do it. Don't kill yourself. You can't do that to your family, it'll affect everyone. You just need to realize that things will get better."
"What do you want people to know about Jesus?"
I paused and smiled a bit. "He loves you. I'm not just saying that because everyone does. He loves you."
He smiled back and switched off his camera, turning to his friend. "I'm really glad we got that one in," he said. Then to me, "Thank you for talking with us!"
"Thanks!" I said, walking towards the door. "It was nice meeting you!"
Chris' face had a look of wonder on it and he gave me a high five. I don't think he ever knew any of that was going on.
Later after a lot of people had left, he came and sat next to me and said, "Powerful testimony."
I half smiled. "Thanks."
"I had no idea it was at that point."
"I can't believe I'd even considered it. At my drivers class they told us to imagine how our families would be effected if we were killed in an accident, but I couldn't think of that. I thought about what it would have been like if I'd done suicide. I just can't believe what I almost did to my family."
"Steph," He put a hand on my shoulder and smiled. "I'm glad you didn't."
I put a hand on his. "So am I."
"You're an incredible kid," he said.
I frowned. I certainly didn't feel incredible. I felt horrible. "Thanks," I said.
"God's still working on you."
I laughed dryly. "Clearly."

I can't stress how horrible I feel about what I almost did to everyone. There was a night coming home from work a few months ago when I mentioned something about killing myself to Kristen and she asked me to promise her I wouldn't. And I'd said I couldn't promise that. Today she told me that that was one of the scariest nights of her life. She was so frightened just hearing me say that.
Dad would have tore himself apart, Mom would be devistated, Daniel would feel betrayed, and Kristen would feel like she'd lost her right arm. I just can't believe I'd ever thought that. I'm so ashamed and I'm so mad at myself. I hate that part of my past. I can't get over it.
If you're reading this and you're thinking of suicide, please listen carefully to what I am saying. Think of who you would affect. Whether you think so or not, everyone would be changed in some way. And not positively.
Whatever you're going through, no matter what it is, it will get better. Life could always suck more. There is always hope, and there is always help. And if you can't find someone to talk to, I am always here for you and am willing to help.
Just please don't give up.
Never stop fighting.

Happiness is A Plethora of Hugs

It's amazing how I've gone from suicidal to filled with joy in, what, four months? I mean, I haven't really had a group of friends that I love since before Christmas last year. And now, going to my school picnic today, I've not felt so loved in a very, very long time. I can't tell you how many hugs I got today!

Today was a dress-down day, so, you could wear normal clothes if you payed five dollars to the seniors. Which sounded good to me. So, I chose to wear my very favorite outfit to school, and everybody seemed to make a mental sigh and go, "Oh, good, she's normal!" 'Cause, you know, I have glasses and look beyond dorky in my school uniform. I mean, otherwise, I can work the look; but when you're wearing khaki pants and polo shirts tucked in? You hardly have a chance.
People were talking to me more than usual today (probably because of my outfit and looking not so loser-esque) and I actually got around to telling Hannah and Rachel that I was bullied last year. They looked at me like that was a totally foreign concept to them. Yes, girls, welcome to the real world - kids like me get pushed around out there. It's not pretty. I still didn't mention the fact that I have 4S to anyone, but I'm sure they'll all learn sometime.

After school, we had a picnic at a park and participated in a relay race, a cake walk, tug of war (over a river! It got a little wet), and I had to eat a doughnut on the end of a string; but only because I'm a first-year student. It was kind of sad, because I didn't get to participate in the relay race because everyone volunteered for roles before I was able to. But, what was nice was that Willis was kind of distressed that I didn't get to play. I wasn't upset about the fact, but I was touched that he'd cared enough to ask if I was okay with that and that he was sorry.
Between events, I was able to hang out with my new friends. Mainly Hannah, Rachel, and Jake; but with the other guys, too. And while we're all different from each other, I think that it's kind of cool that nobody is ever alone. Everyone's included in everything.
The juniors ended up winning the relay, and the tug-of-war, but altogether it was really fun. What really touched me was at the end, Hannah and I were walking and she asked, "So, are you liking Bird Watched High*?"
The other girls had left and she and I were walking behind some of the guys.
I smiled, "Yeah," I said, grinning ear to ear, "I absolutely love it here!"
She tackled me in a hug. "Good! Because I love having you here!"
"I love having you here!" I exclaimed.

When I was leaving with my mother, I kind of called over my shoulder, "Good-bye, everyone!"
So, Jake flings his arms open and was like, "Byyye!"
I hugged him, even though I felt quite awkward about it because I don't think I've ever hugged a guy before. It was okay, though, and it was really quick anyway, so I got over it and hugged Hannah, this girl named Holly, and Nathan.
But wanna know something? Hugs are amazing. My self-esteem has sky-rocketed.

My Failed Attempt at Orchestrism

It's funny, because whenever I start a post, I have so many ideas in my head about what I'm going to write, making me sound all awesome and deep. But, once I'm at the keyboard, my brain goes dead. But, I'll go ahead and try and make some sense anyway.

First, I'd like to say that I think I type too fast. I think it's saying a little much if I'm fifteen and can type seventy-five words a minute. Also the fact that I would go online to figure out how quickly I can move my fingers across a keyboard. Let's say it together, dork. Please take this test and comment to tell me how you did so I feel a little better.
Moving on:
I made chocolate cake and brownies today, licked the batter, and didn't get any of it on my white T-shirt. I think this is a big developmental step for me. But why was I making all kinds of cocoa-y goodness? Because tomorrow, my school is having a back to school picnic and we are going to be participating in a cake walk. I have never done a cake walk before, but, however, I have made cakes. Hopefully I'll excel sometime at one or the other.
As I was happily making a cake in the kitchen, my mother dropped in and told me to make brownies. I asked her why, and she just told me that she didn't want to be tempted to eat my cake.
Oh, I thought, good point. So I made those as well.

A few hours earlier, she and I had drove over to a church across town because my cello teacher had said that she'd gotten me into a little orchestra as part of another home school group in the area. My mother and I thought this was a marvelous idea, so we went with it and showed up this morning. Unfortunately, it appeared that my teacher had not talked to the board about letting a random student in without being accepted to the school, and I was evidently not allowed to play.
"If we let you in," the directer so calmly explained as she chomped her gum loudly (to my particular annoyance), "then we'd have all kinds of students dropping in unannounced in the middle of the semester. I'm very sorry."
As we drove back home, I turned to my mother and said, "...because the rest of the American population is just dying to be in small home school orchestras."
"They'd be coming in through the windows," Mom commented, "and through the doors with battering rams!"
Sometimes I'm so glad for my mom's sarcasm.
Anyhow; dejected, I was dropped off at the house (because my mom was going to have coffee with her best friends) by myself and went to practice guitar instead.
Later as sat on the floor next to our daschound and schnoodle reading my Biology textbook, I was feeling quite peaceful. Even if I can't get into orchestra, I'm still contented to sit with the dogs while doing my studies at home, unhindered by children wielding bubble gum.
And that's good enough for me.

Pingpingpong!

My family likes ping pong. My mom has been playing for years since she was a little girl with her cousins and is flippin' fantastic at it. I'm kind of a wet noodle who has trouble hitting the ball, but I'm doing alright, I think. It is some of the only excersize that I get. I've gone to Dr. K from my church, and he's been telling me to start being active, and I have. I'm really proud of myself. My mom and I have gone on three walks in the past week, and I've also been doing the Hundred Pushup Challenge and the Two Hundred Sit-Up Challenge to strengthen my abdominal muscles and my back muscles so my back won't be in so much pain all the time. And, I think it's starting to help. So, if you're feeling a little bit flabby and are up for it, follow the links above and begin your own challenge!

I think there are mice living in my walls. I don't know how many, but I can hear something chewing on - I think - piping under my heat regester. My cat has been sitting next to it all day, but she hasn't found anything. I'd set up an elaborate mouse trap last week when they were on the other side of my bedroom constructed of a chair, a ramp, a box next to the chair, and a toilet paper tube teetering over the box on the edge of the chair with peanut butter in it. Did I catch my mouse? No, I did not.
My cat is a mouser. Only, she's a lazy one. Whenever she finds a mouse in my room, she'll sit and watch it all night while it cowers cornered in a frightened little ball. When she finds one in the basement, she makes sure to kill it and bring the guts up to leave on the floor as an offering for me. (Okay, that was a really nasty sentence, but I just wanted to say she does. I always feel like puking every time she does it.)
Anyway, I just wanted to share my rodent frustrations with you all because nobody else in my family seems the least bit concerned while I sit here and worry about catching the junta virus.

Tomorrow, I have school. I normally have school on Tuesdays and Fridays anyway, so Labor Day didn't really do anything for me. All I did today was follow my mom around town while she ran errands. But, my point was that I really like school. It's cool to not worry about what school's going to be like the next day. I've said this before: I love it! And wanna know something sad? I really like wearing uniforms because it makes me feel like I belong somewhere.

I hope you all had a great Labor Day and a great three-day-weekend and that you are having a great day :)

Friend Found This For Me:

I think it's pretty accurate. And I wish my life had subtitles.

Papa

Usually, my Fridays begin at 5:15 am. It's usually dark, the wood floor of my room is cold, and I'm the only one awake. Makeup, hair, lunch packing, and coffee making takes me to 6:20 (or today, 6:15), and then I'm in the car with my dad. We listen to the radio; even though I know he doesn't like my favorite morning program. But, he never makes any attempt to change the station, nor has he ever complained.

I'm learning a lot about my dad. I appreciate him more than I used to. I know I'm starting to see a different side of him than I knew a year ago. Maybe it has something to do with God opening my eyes to others and their sufferings, but maybe it doesn't. Maybe my heart hasn't changed at all. Even so, I'm now aware of all that he does for my family, but doesn't get acknowledged for. All the work he puts into taking care of my mother, my siblings, and I. House payments, groceries, medical bills. He's stressed all the time, but I've only heard from my mom and not his own mouth. I'll ask, but he'll water it all down so I won't have to worry. Then he'll ask me what I'm doing in my classes, and the subject is too quickly forgotten.

We get out of the car, now in the parking lot of my high school. He carries my book bin into the school, even though he has a bad back, without complaint. He knows I have the same condition - inherited from him. He hugs me and kisses my cheek, saying he hopes I have a good day at school and that he loves me. I do the same.