It often bothers me that the world is so focused on physical appearances. That girls spend hours critiquing themselves in mirrors. That magazines portray women as thin, almost godlike creatures with big busts and tiny waists. And what bothers me even more, is that we fall for it. No matter how many times someone says were beautiful, no matter how many times we are complimented on our fashion sense or unique physical differences, we always find something wrong. Now I will admit, not all women are like this. In fact I know a few who could care less about what others think about them, their confidence level is through the roof. I am some what ashamed to admit I am one of those girls who have fallen into the deep dark pit of “i wish I was________.” It used to be frustrating when people told me that its whats inside that makes you beautiful. I didn’t believe it! I WANTED to look like a model! But I began to realize that its true. God designed each one of us individually, each indicate detail was placed there for a reason. And someone one day will look at you and think “WOW, she is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” Now you may not believe them, or you may brush aside the compliment, but remember being beautiful isn’t about being thin, or taller, or shorter, or big busted, its about being YOU, the unique, , and Divinely constructed beauty.
The Hunt
Its been a while since my last update. Seems like life is changing so fast its hard to find time for the little things that bring me joy. Like writing. But today in the midst of the dog running circles around the living room with my husband cheering her on, I find a moment to post.
Currently Josh and I are in the middle of a daunting adventure… house hunting. We have been scouring GRAR and other Internet sites for any house that looks remotely interesting, and finally a few gems were discovered. One in particular, completely bewitched us; a beautiful two story, with a great view, and elegant interior design. We thought since it had been on the market for a significant amount of time and only one offer had been made, that we had a lot of time to entertain the idea. Little did we know that someone lurked around the corner ready to make an offer. So now we wait, praying and anticipating the response to the sneaky peoples offer, in hopes that one day soon we too will join the millions of happy home owners…
Unsure
I guess this weekend has made me think, why am I where I am? What am I doing? How am I benefiting others? I couldn’t come up with an answer to satisfy myself. There are times where I feel like I am wasting my time, ignoring the gifts I have been given, and trudging down this path that leads to who knows where.
Today is the first day of fall. The leaves have begun to change, the air has taken on a refreshing coolness, and I have decided that I will quit ignoring the gifts I have been given and begin seeking the path the Lord has laid before me. Maybe it will lead me to a new adventure, but maybe I wont move at all. Maybe the purpose of my feeling unused, is to teach me to discover how I can be useful wherever I am, doing whatever I’m doing. I may not be happy in my current position, but I have so many other things to be happy about; so many other things to delight in. My Lord has blessed me in so many ways, and I have to believe and trust that he will guide my steps, no matter how frustrating or difficult they may be.
Characters
Today I decided that I was going to sit down and complete at least one of my character descriptions. One page full of adjectives and unique phrases that would make my character sound more interesting, maybe, than he or she really is. But as I sat at my computer staring at the blinding white screen, my mind stopped. I tried to put my characters personality and physical appearance into words, but every time I tried, It just seemed dry and typical. It was your case of typical writers block. The frustrating thing is the night before I was laying in bed and thousands of ideas and descriptions flooded my thoughts. I beat myself for not getting up at 2:00 am or however late it was and at least scratching what I had down on paper, because as I sat their completely empty of any creative juices, I felt entirely unproductive. For an hour or so I sat there typing, deleting, typing, deleting, completely incapable of forming one solitary descriptive sentence
Rediscovered
I thought since I dont have much to do today Id post a poem I wrote a while ago. Here goes…
She’s beautiful in her own special way
In a way others fail to see
She’s broken, the pieces scatter
Sharp edges cut as she scrapes
She pulls the pieces closer
She’s empty and bleeding
Scarlet are her hands as she scrapes
She pulls the pieces closer
She tries to mend the broken shards
Of tarnished life, but fails
As she scrapes and pulls the pieces
Closer, Closer but never close enough
And she fills, or tries
her vacant soul, with material things
indulge, consume with hatred
for what has drove her here
To the dark blanket of black
that consumes her
Fake happiness, dulls the pain
Pretend, all is fine
Its harmful, painful, killing her
And she scrapes and pulls the pieces
Closer, she fails, and falls to the floor
A tear, silently falls, a hand
Brushes it away, and she sighs
He comes, his light blinding
he kneels and scrapes and pulls the pieces
Closer, closer to him
She lifts her tired head
And observes, his touch
Scarlet are his hands as he scrapes
Pulling the pieces closer to him
With each movement he heals
Each wound, each deep painful slash
Slowly mending her, piece by piece
She stands, she sees his scarred blood red hands
as he molds, transforms her beauty
Finished, he rises, he breathes
And fills her empty sole, one
solitary breath of life
And light pours into the ebony space
it scrapes and pulls the blackness
Hope, an illuminating beauty
A beauty others could NEVER fail to see.
A Writer
I am a writer, or at least that is what I like to consider myself. I haven’t had any works published, besides a few poetry pieces here and there. I haven’t taken college courses to increase my knowledge on writing, but still, I consider myself one of the imaginaries who has a passion to create story lines that thrill and entertain their audiences. I hope that one day I will walk through Barnes and Noble, and see my book displayed in all its glory.
I am not a writer because of my education level, or because I have been published, but because I love developing characters so real, they could be your best friend. I love painting a landscape by using words full of life and color. I have held myself back to long; suppressed by the fear of never being good enough. But now I have decided to release my imagination, and to create on paper the story I have longed to write for so long.
If your a writer who has been held captive by fear and frustration, pick up your pen or pull your lap top. You ARE a WRITER! WRITE, and have fun doing it!
