There is something to be said about the darkness and shame of the world, the blazing sun and focused blue sky, and dark and shadowed gray shelf clouds.

There is something to be said about the glory of God in miracles.
Miracles that take place in a hospital room at 8 o'clock at night, involving a dying man in his 50's, who has two beautiful pregnant daughters and a family who loves him beyond words. It takes one phone call to constitute a chain reaction of prayer, and soon enough, half the world is praying for the life of this son of God.

There is something to be said about the glory of God in miracles.

There is something to be said about the passion, commitment, and dedication of those in the world that live their lives not by their own enjoyment, but by finding ways to service the happiness of others.

Where there is beauty, there is God.

Look around you and tell me He doesn't exist.
Try to tell me that God is not within the heart of the Pope, who dictates and performs countless sacraments in the divinity of the Creator Himself.
And try to tell me that He isn't in the tears of my nephew as he watches his daddy walk out the door to take his wife to her dying father...and my one year old nephew, William, curls up on top of Eric's sandals and lays there, wrapped in his blanket and seeking any sort of comfort he can understand.
And try to tell me our God isn't in the people around you. In the GR cop that was shot and within the person that shot the cop. In the streets and the restaurants, in the churches and the strip clubs, in the drug addict and the priest, in the loner and the candidate, in the gospel and in the mouths of His very children.

HE. IS. EVERYWHERE.

I worked 3rd shift last night at a treatment home for adults with psychosis/mental illnesses...

There is something to be said about walking down the dimly lit hallway of a mental health group home at 3am, and opening the doors of psychotic people with fucked up minds and lives, and hearing complete silence. Breathing and silence. Nonviolent, calm, and sleeping. There is something to be said of the feeling I felt while experiencing this. There is.

I need to get away for awhile, I think.

I leave you with that.

I'm frustrated. Very frustrated.

I feel pressured and trapped and stupid, because I'm completely incapable of making decisions on my own.

I've been keeping this to myself for too long.
I have this huge decision to make and I just can't make up my mind. There's so many things to consider and I really just can't decide. I've spent so many days and endless hours in prayer and reflection, seeking out the advice of others, talking, journaling, thinking about it.

Sitting and thinking about it for hours and hours on end...and not getting anywhere.

I was supposed to decide by today, but I just can't. I keep being SO certain of my "final" decision, and then changing my mind.

I'm truly going insane. I need to vent...I need to breathe.

AGH. I need to get away.

I need to talk to someone, I need to just get it all out, to explain it all. Maybe I should write a pro's and con's list.

If I told you this "decision" I speak of, you'd laugh. It's downright foolish to worry and think this much over this...but...here I am, Amy...doing just that.

I was offered a promotion at work. That's it. part-time to full-time.
but....oooh, my oh my, there's so much more to it. so much.

The pressure is on and I CANNOT DECIDE.

For the love of all that is good,

WHY THE HECK CAN'T I DECIDE?!???!?!?!?!?

Please come hang out with me and my incredibly weird but fun family for the 4th of July.

I'd love to see you all, and I miss being around civilization.

If you're busy during the day, come for the fireworks...or vice versa.

love you all.
also, please pray for an end to abortion.
and for me and a HUGE pressuring decision I have to make in less than a week.

thanks much.

Dudes.

I CLEANED MY CAR. MARVIN IS CLEAN AND SHINY!!!

I didn't just pick up junk off the floor and throw it all in my trunk, either. Cause my trunk is clean, too!

:) I CLEANED MY CAR!

For anyone who knows me, and has had the "privelage" of taking a ride in Marvin, you understand why this is a huge deal.

yeah. I'm pretty cool.

I was going to use this spot right here to apologize for the forward and blunt language I'm about to use...but then I realized that there's no reason to apologize. Feelings are feelings. I know it's unlike me, but considering where I'm at in life right now....yeah.

so here goes.

Do you ever feel like you just don't belong? Do you ever feel like you don't belong in this fucking world, with it's fucked up screwheads who wander the streets immersed in whatever it is society feeds them, robotic surfaces that are internally screaming for air and love and touch. Humans that have no desire to live a worthwhile life, but that of laziness and technology and disgust. This probably makes no sense to you, but I walk into a crowd and it blurs before me. Time slows and I faintly hear the voices of thousands of different people as the colors all mesh together. I stand in the center, oblivious to the noise except that of my beating heart, watching the world go on in slow motion, watching time pass before my eyes.

People flipping open cell phones and unlocking their 2007 Mercedes with the automatic beeper. More isolation and less community. Pollution crowds the streets and the mouths of the children that run to catch up with their parent, who's frantically walking and talking to their boss on the phone. The child wonders with a pang of fear what would happen if their hand were to slip from their moms, in a split second, and they would be swallowed by layers of clothing and steaming coffee cups and bustling bodies.

I can't make sense of the world nor of time or words or thought. I can't make sense of the meaning of life and the meaning beyond. I can't seem to draw a line in my head when it comes to morals and where exactly I stand. why? because I just don't know. Don't ask me what kind of music I like because I no longer know. Is it rock? classical? jazz? indie? punk?

I feel I'm laying flat on the floor, the palms of my hands touching the cold cement, slowly detaching myself from my life in small, subtle ways. I see myself more and more each day, bringing out the journal and the music and the random wandering thoughts. I find myself thinking existential and philosophical again, and craving more Garden State.

There's this song by a christian artist called "Place in this World"...you can actually listen to a semi-clear clip of it on my facebook profile...and that's absolutely one of my favorite songs, because it stirs those feelings, those instincts, those questions and curiosities inside me every time I hear it.

where is my place in this world?
where do I fit?
I don't belong...I KNOW THIS. Don't waste your time trying to prove me otherwise.
I KNOW I DON'T BELONG.

...but how do I escape? I want to live a life of real passion and truth and love and happiness. I want to be friends with open, honest human beings who can expose themselves for who they are as a person and give me a chance to embrace it...I want community and realistic virtues and spirituality and trust. I want to see God alive.

I feel so trapped sometimes...trying to find my place in a world that's not cut out for me. Something bigger and better needs to take place. Perhaps that's why I have all these crazy dreams and goals like Germany and traveling and the Amazon...perhaps that's always why I feel I'm trying to run away from all of this...maybe I just need to.

Have you found your place in this world? If so, where?

...meh. I suppose I've expounded all my energy and the last of my thoughts onto the page.

thanks for listening.

hello internet world of dear friends.

you know, I have a weird feeling that no one reads this thing. And while that should be comforting, being as I'm about to spill some personal nomadic thoughts onto the page...it isn't. where'd everyone go? I know i always mocked live journal, but I'm warming up to it. come back, friends, come back!!!!

hmmm.

I really, really, really need to find another job. Part-time would be nice. Full-time would be really nice, if it had good hours that worked well. I feel I’m being awfully picky.

I feel it’s time to move on from the job I currently hold and love.
Now, I ask myself why I think that.
-is it really because of the emotional issues and possible danger/risks of the job?
-is it because I can’t commit to anything and I run everytime things become uncomfortable?
-is it because I’ve become bored and confused and unaccustomed to the inexcitement of my job and career?
-is it because I’m just not ready?
-does God really want me to leave? Even though I’m praying, I feel He does not respond sometimes.

Man…how the heck will I ever know? Listening to my heart is not an option, because there is no answer. Perhaps it's a mix of everything, or I've just lost my head and it's none of those.

I used to think I was such a strong person. I used to love when people noticed my strengths, because as a kid, I desired to be strong like my brothers. I admired them more than I can explain, and I always wanted to act and look as strong as them. I conned myself into believing I was. Physically, I am pretty strong...especially with my experience at camp over the years...but emotionally....oh...*sigh*

Emotionally I am so freaking weak. I'm a wreck. I always try to hold everything in and never cry and keep this perfect stature of "I'm good, and you?" and pretend the world's okay and my life's okay and nothing's wrong...and even if something were wrong, I tell myself I'm probably being overdramatic and I just need to chill out and tough up and take it. Take it like my brothers would handle it. Take it like my Dad would handle it.

But my heart is exhausted and my soul is aching in weakness. I've recently come to the realization that probably should have been discovered long before that I am not like my brothers and my father when it comes to strength. I'm more like a little scared and helpless child solely relying on another for my source of strength. This is me. This is who and what I am. Weak and helpless and lost. I am without control. I do not have direction. I lack power, I lack guidance, I lack wisdom, and I've fallen too many times to remember where to go from here. Sometimes it's so easy to want to stay on the ground. Getting back up requires so much thinking and solving and working things out...all of which I want to do very badly, but don't at all at the same time.

and here I stand.

Life is always throwing curveballs my way. In a twisted sense, I really appreciate the crap in my life. I'm thankful for the burdens and the crosses I carry daily. I'm grateful for the stress and anxiety and petty issues, because I know that without these sacrifices, I would be nothing of a person, nothing of a human, nothing of myself. I would be lost and famished. I wouldn't know what to do with my planned out perfect life, and I'm really really really sure I would hate it a lot.

Would I like things to fall into place and go my way every now and then? Heck, yes!!! ...but if they don't, it's just more stones to step over, more tunnels to crawl through, more stories for the heart and the children, and more wisdom for my faith journey. The sorrows only make the joys all the more joyous.

Heh.

So, where am I at in life? I asked myself this question last night, and my answers leaned more towards my aches and sorrows. But I suppose if I have to start somewhere, I should start at the root of the hurt, and then within that, seek out ways to glorify God in these low moments.

where I'm at:
-I miss the community incredibly.
-I desire community so much it hurts. So much that it’s become a painful, gaping hole.
-I’m striving to become healthier because of all the deaths and losses and diseases in my family. I have a 95% chance of getting like 12 different things, and I want to live my life. I am not giving up easily. In fact, I'm not giving up at all.
-I feel,for the first time, that I am truly ready for a relationship…but I have another feeling that God doesn’t think I am.
-I also feel (very contradictory) that God is calling me back to the convent. Maybe I need to be there first in order to see my true vocation, which could very well be the convent. This I do not know. It sort of scares me, but I am willing to let Him guide me if it means joy.
-I need to seek out complete healing in everything I can before starting a new. Perhaps that is what I am waiting for, in some sense, in life. Perhaps I'm waiting to be healed and renewed in the Spirit.
-I do not know what God wants of me, where God wants me to be, and how God wants me to do it.
-I do not understand why I don’t feel or see clarity.
-I desire to return to Germany. I long to master music, and yet, I feel it cannot be done. I have poor motivation when it comes to my skills and conquering the instruments I play. Mostly because I really, really suck at it.

I get frustrated with life when I don't know what to do. I'd rather know what God wants from me and not like it, than not know anything and wait and wonder and drive myself crazy over thousands of different options and outcomes of my emotions and life and future.

rah.
have I been complaining this whole post?
that was not my intent. My apologies. I really needed to vent.
I used to write insane amounts as a child, and I really miss it. I miss writing.
and I just needed to write (type) this out and get it out there, even if it's just symbolically leaving me.

I hope everyone's doing well.

please pray that someday, people all over the world, advocate for life in all ways.
love you all.

wow.

i haven't been on lj in a freaking long time.

so, i must ask...how is everyone doing?

I.

am.

so.

sick.

of.

school.

...i haven't even signed up for winter semester yet.
much less even thought about it.
i'm considering taking a vacation. perhaps staying with a friend in Lansing.
except I have a job. so. i guess that probably wouldn't work.

man.
life is crazy.

packing a lot.
it's sad in a way, taking these treasures and pieces of my childhood, my teenage years, high school...and throwing them out. or keeping the few things I find myself absolutely unable to part with.

like my stuff from Germany.
and camp.
and all of my old writing...my gosh.

writing. I used to write SO much. I miss it. I miss it so much it hurts. I was looking a my old stuff, and I must have had about 30 notebooks in a musty cardboard box filled from first page to last with stories. some stories lasted through 2 or 3 notebooks, and some ended mid-sentence. some were 5 pages long and some were 20. most of them are cheesy and meaningless...to others, at least. they're a part of me in a way.

i don't think i could ever throw away my writng.
my whole life growing up, I had this thing. This feeling that started when I was really young and grew inside of me as I got older. It's still within me today. But this thing I used to always say and feel was that "no one understands me." It was my life motto. No one understands me, no one understands my thoughts, the way I think, the way I feel, and the depth to which I feel, why I have passions that others don't and why I feel like I stand alone in the world...it was all the same, and it just grew deeper and deeper and I felt it was the core of the absolute truth. that no one would really ever understand me.

so i wrote. it was the expression of myself, of my life motto, of my point to the world. even though I rarely shared my pieces with anyone, I felt that what I wrote on paper was EXACTLY how I felt. and that was the only time- when I was writing- that I felt I was really saying what I was meaning. speaking from my heart. speaking truth.

i still feel that way. so strongly.
so often I try to carry a conversation with someone and find myself mangled in my thoughts, unable to say exactly what I'm feeling. and sometimes I think things that are really important and that need to be said. but it never comes out right. i always miss the moment, I always say something other than i mean, and then i try to take it all back and wallow in the guilt and embarassment for the next 7 weeks, wishing i could have rewound and wrote what i was going to say, and then handed it to the person.
it doesn't quite work that way, though.

i don't know.
i still so often feel that people say they understand me, but they never really do.
i crave that.
i crave the understaning of someone...just ONE HUMAN BEING would be enough.

it's never happened.
yes, people get me to a point. my friends decipher my character and pick up on parts of who i am, but am I understood? probably not.

all of my life this feeling has never gone away.
i don't know what ignited it and i don't know what caused it to stir up again, but i really wish there was a way to make it happen.
i suppose in due time, huh.

anyways.
packing made me think of writing, and writing made me think of my identity, and here I am, rambling on.

thanks for listening.

i love you, Andy.

it's been 3 years and I still think of you everday.

happy 21st birthday.

i miss you, man.