Saturday, July 30, 2011

Friday, July 29, 2011

the switch

"Soooo....
.....you wanna switch?"

B leans onto the counter, sporting an adorable smirk and batting his thick, dark, glossy lashes at me. It was another normal night at the Tee-Pee; I was on register and B was on scoop. And he wanted to switch.

Now, my first instinct was "of course I'll switch with you" -- because naturally, I like him more than I like being on the register. But then I remembered that he didn't switch with me a couple weeks ago when I asked, so out of spite--I told him no.

He took it graciously, walked away, and I just stood there. Repaying him with evil. And feeling a little proud that I had hurt him. But then I realized I was standing there alone-- knowing that that was the most selfish thing I could ever think or do. Probably even more selfish than if I had just told him no on account of me really not wanting to switch. But that I told him 'no' simply out of spite?-- that like, quadruples the selfishness.

It wasn't long before I caved and called B over to the register.
"Babe! Take the register. Go!"

He smiled this coy little smile of gratitude and all of that selfishness I had harbored up, in an instant, turned into joy.

And I'm sure.

I'm sure that holding on to the things of this world only keeps us from the best of things. The heavenly things. The things that last well beyond this life. That every sacrifice we make is wrapped up into the only sacrifice big enough to save us.

No sacrifice can compare with Christ's, but every one-- no matter how big, no matter how small, is significant.

signed,
i'm-a-selfish-little-brat-but-jesus-saved-me


"do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others." 
philippians 2:3-4

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

a chance

In some distant memory, I do recall myself hating it here. The reddish-purple marks left by the bug bites I received while hiding in the bushes crying reminds me of it. They're so annoying to look at.


Yesterday morning B and I woke up early and met each other at the beach. It was windy and overcast, but it was still peaceful, somehow. Both of us have been trying to make our way through Isaiah by reading a chapter a day for 60 days. It was really his idea, I'll give him credit, but I really wanted to jump on board as well. Moreover, I wanted to be able to talk about it together. He's a good one to talk to.


One of my roommates left this morning, so I got to move down to the bottom bunk, which I'm grateful for. It's a lot cooler down here. And my feet won't blister from climbing up the side of the bunk 50 times a day anymore.


Okay, okay-- so more like 10.
Maybe 5.

It's all relative, really.


I spent a half-hour making my bed and arranging the lamp, the fan, my computer charger, and my phone charger to my liking. All of which are plugged into an outlet might I add--the outlet I had on the top bunk, and now the outlet down here. I also inherited the two drawers on the bottom and some more hangers. Everything has a place now, and I love it. But I also feel kind of guilty. Should I? It wasn't even an hour after she left that I moved down here...


My classes are over and I'm proud to say that God got me through them, and with A's nonetheless--which is com-PLETELY out of character for me. So to celebrate my new gained freedom and academic successes, I treated myself to a few Amazon purchases:



I, Isaac, Take Thee Rebekah by Ravi Zacharias (he spoke here at Camp-of-the-Woods last week),

Desiring God by John Piper,


and a little fiction action--

Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins (I've heard really great things).



It’s been forever since I’ve actually gotten to select my own reading material. And my afternoons have been bliss.


Our band 'True North' played at Battle of the Bands this past Saturday and somehow we ended up winning $500. B took me to Amsterdam for a reeeeeally nice dinner where I had stuffed Maine lobster. ‘Nuf said.


Afterward, we made a Wal-Mart trip and then went to see Transformers 3--the first movie we've seen together since we were in Atlanta. Sour Patch Kids were consumed.


After working at the Tee-Pee this evening (which is really just one huge sauna at the moment) B grabbed my hand and steered me toward the beach. My heart melted at the gesture, because usually we’re both so tired that we mindlessly head straight back to our dorms. Nothing was different tonight, both of us were equally tired, him even a little sick— but he took me to the beach. And it meant the world. In the past four months, I’ve realized that [one of] my love language[s] is definitely quality time. We don’t really have to do anything, or even talk necessarily. Just sitting on a bench under the night sky, overlooking the mountains and the lake with his arm around me is quite substantial.


So like I said-- in some distant memory, I recall hating it here. But now that I’ve been here for 4, going on 5 weeks, I do believe that I’m growing quite fond of little’ ole Speculator.

A chance was all it took.


Thanks for praying for me, bloggies!
-c

Sunday, July 17, 2011

camp-of-the-woods: week four

Hey there blogosphere! I have some pictures for you!














Saturday, July 9, 2011

a happy fourth

Confession: I missed the fourth of July due to Tee-Pee duty. And no, blogsters -- I'm not referring to toilet paper, just to the ice-cream shop I work at every evening. I get to wear a cool hat and put up with grumpy old men. It's fun.


Well, despite my devastating hang-up at the prime hang-out spot in Speculator (lovingly referred to as "Speck"), I did get to celebrate another fourth that I happen to be very fond of. And it conveniently happened to occur today on my day off.


But listen y'all: you can't "awww" or gag or roll your eyes, okay? Because all I'm doing is stating a fact. Just a plain, simple, fact...


....that today is four months of being B's girlfriend.



I'm sorry!--but I really couldn't keep it inside. I'm elated. And not just because I'm dating my best friend and it's the longest/best relationship I've ever had, but because in honor of our four "month-a-versary," he drove me all the way to Saratoga to the nearest B&N (which is a grueling hour and a half away), took my hand, and led me straight to the Moleskine display where the two most beautiful words I have ever heard him say flew through the air: "Pick one."

Pick one?! Oh, happy day.



B, you're my hero.
Let's have a month-a-versary every month, k?
I'll put it in my Moleskine.

-c

Friday, July 8, 2011

i'm not a wife

...but when that time comes, i want to be ready for it.
i love this sermon by Mark Driscoll.

p.s.
 i really need one of these.


"watch your life and your doctrine closely."
-1 timothy 4:16

Monday, July 4, 2011

cray-cray

I haven't done anything these past couple days as far as school is concerned. Sometimes I just get so overwhelmed that I find myself paralyzed to even start anything, let alone finish anything. This predicament is nothing new (thus why I am going into my sixth year of college...), yet I think I might be showing some progress towards diligence. It's just an extremely slow process....


...just as finishing all of this is going to be:


-a  ten page research paper on Paul's argument for justification through faith
- a four page paper on the "I Am"s
- some worldview paper I haven't even looked at yet
- two tests
- two quizzes
- a discussion board post
- and four discussion board replies

college. is. fun.
(sense the sarcasm?)

Among other things, my ankles and legs are covered in bug bites--because like an idiot, when I really needed to let it all out, I refused to go to my room and cry infront of my roommates. Instead, I decided to plant myself in some bushes by a horseshoe pit filled with sand at 11pm at night whilst wearing shorts and sandals. Hence the bug bites. Hence my idiocy.

And another thing I found out:
my medicine is the wrong medicine and it's making me crazy. Literally. Crazy.


Which would explain my bad attitude, bad attitude, bad attitude, obsessive crying, reclusiveness, and depressed state of being. It's the PMS that never ends. And y'all-- it's terrible.


But don't fret blogsters, I'll be back to normal here soon.

To all you crazies out there:
-don't make any rash, life altering decisions
- don't cry in the bushes
-check to make sure it's not your drugs making you cray-cray.

Rx drugs, of course.

-c