if we always said what we meant

If we always said what we meant

And almost always meant what we said

There would be no doubts, no questions

There would be no second guesses

How boring would it be, though

Without those half sleepless nights?

Without that great wonder of what exactly is right?

It would save a lot of heart breaks

Avoid rivers full of tears

But what would we do without chaos?

And without ever feeling fear?

We could pose in a perfect world

As perfect boys and perfect girls

Going in and out of days

Without questioning any other way

If we always said what we meant

And almost always meant what we said

Would people really connect and join together for the next step?

A few of my favorite things

A smile on a child’s face after she learns to tie her shoe

The color of the sky right before the sun sets

The way the wind hits my face as I run around the track

That “I’ll never be this happy again” feeling after a great accomplishment

The rhythm of the music and the welcoming feel of the furniture at Starbucks

The sound of a good friend’s laughter and the warmth of their hug

A simple, subtle movement that inspires me to dance

The rush of the waves crashing over me in the ocean

The want and need for continuous growth and giving..

These are a few of my favorite things*

what is my next step?

The above question is one that the pastor at St. Paul's Collegiate Church asked tonight during his sermon. Now, if you know me you know that I am not one to attend church or have strong religious ties. A friend of mine told me about the church a few weeks ago and explained how he knew I wasn't big into religion but that I should consider giving St. Paul's a chance.

We entered the church with a group of ECSU students and there was music coming from the chapel. Not an organ, not a choir group, but a guitar, drums and a girl with a beautiful voice. We entered the chapel and there were no wooden pews or a huge alter, just rows of chairs set up in a circle with a small podium.

After a few upbeat songs were played and sung by members of the church, the pastor began his sermon. I was happy to find that it wasn't just readings from the bible being recited (because something of the sort would have made me awfully uncomfortable). Instead, he talked about it being the churches 3rd birthday and what the next steps of the church were. He then expanded this later on and asked everyone to think about what their next steps are. For me, this was a difficult question considering I felt as though I had just taken my first step. I was courageous enough to go to the church and to my surprise, I was enjoying it thus far.

Somewhere in the middle of his sermon I thought of what Vikki would say if she knew that I had gone. She always used to bust my butt about how terrible it was that I didn't go to church and how she wished I would just go once and a while. I missed her now more than ever and I cried tears of both joy and sadness.

At the end of the sermon, the music started up again and this time the songs were slower and more heartfelt. This, of course, brought on more tears but I was fine with that and I just let it flow.

After the mass, we met a few college leaders of the church and it was awesome to hear about what they do to serve the community and others.

When all was said and done, it was a great experience. I still don't know how I feel about following the story of the bible and believing all that it says, but I do know that the songs were very enjoyable and the atmosphere was warming.

So what is my next step? I'm still thinking that up.. but to me, that in itself is step enough.

[God] Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change
The courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

I am extremely familar with this saying after attending many AA meetings with my father while I was a younger girl, but as time passes I find more and more meaning in it and can connect it with everyday life.

Now, I think most people can agree on the fact that no one person in this world can solve world hunger, poverty, or find a cure for AIDS or cancer on their own, but I think that we often look past the possibility of contributing a little bit of our time to work towards making a big difference.

Perhaps we should look inside ourselves and just be a little more aggressive and courageous when it comes to helping others. Whether it is a friend in need, a peer who needs help in class, a family member, an elderly person crossing the street or a complete stranger who could use a smile and a simple "hello". Start small, you will be surprised to find that when your small efforts pay off, you are suddenly inclined to do more.

I have accepted the things in my life that I have tried to change, but just can't seem to. I have also assessed the things that are important for me to try to change in the future. Lately, most of these things have had to do with others and not with myself. I am very happy at where I am in my life and now more than ever, I am looking at what I can do to help others.

So, yet again, the verse that once had a very different meaning to me, has changed to mean something completely different to me.

And that, my friends, is the beauty of written words.

i miss you..

And as the rain falls down
I can't help but hear her voice
Telling me to dance, oh she wishes she had danced
The clouds clear and the sun shines
I can only see her face
The moon shines, the stars glow
I think to myself "She can't possibly know"
I miss her, I love her, I wish she were here
I miss her, I love her, I'd be better if she were near
The clouds gather again, her tears fall down
I feel her all around me..*

RIP Meem. I think of you each and everyday.

the invisible children

www.invisiblechildren.com

This afternoon, a friend of mine brought over the invisible children documentary for us to watch together. I had never seen it, but knew before watching it that it was going to be heartbreaking and I guessed that I would end up crying throughout most of it.

The movie started and, ironically enough, it began with some comedic relief (which I foresaw as being needed more so in the middle of the story of these children).
As the documentary played on, and I looked through my TV into the eyes of some of the children from Uganda, sadness filled every part of me, but somehow, I did not cry.

Perhaps it was because the children didn't shed a tear. Maye I felt as though I needed to stay strong since they were able to do it in the face of all the ugliness around them.

They are living in their country in a time of war where they are and their friends are at high risk for being abducted and forced to be trained as soldiers to kill other people, as well as other children; yet somehow, they don't cry.

They walk miles away from their "homes" to sleep packed like sardines in spaces that could fit less than a quarter of them comfortably. They sleep practically on top of each other with little to no blankets. But, they do not cry. They eat one small meal a day, if they are lucky, but they do not cry.

The children who are taken by the rebels are desensitized by being forced to watch brutal beatings and killings of others, and are trained the same way, yet they do not cry.
For some reason, being the extremely emotional and caring person that I am, I held my composure on the outside, but I was screaming on the inside.

At the end of the movie, a young boy named Jacob was brought to the camera and asked about his older brother who was killed by the rebels. You could tell by the look on his face that it was painful for him to talk about it. He answered the questions calmly, until all of a sudden he burst out in a sobbing cry with more despair than I think I had ever heard out of a single person.
I felt one glistening tear fall from eye onto my cheek and I wiped it away with my right hand. I cried. I can't stand the sight of a child crying and being in so much pain over something that can be changed with time and effort.

Once the documentary was over, my friend and I really didn't know what to say to each other, or to say period. Yet it wasn't awkward, because we both knew what it was time to do.
Time to put some time and thought into a project that can benefit these poor, unfortunate children who deserve a fair chance at life just as much as any of us, or our kid brothers or sisters, or nieces or nephews.

Please, take the time to learn their story, and if nothing else, send out your best to the children in Uganda.

www.invisiblechildren.com

oh, what a little moonlight can do

Oh, what a little moonlight can do

That bright, beautiful illumination right there in your face

When you’re out in the dark, the still, the quiet

It shines a bit of hope, different than that of the sun

The constant movement of the day is at rest

It’s just you and the moon

Wish for it all, everything you’ve ever dreamed of

While basking in it’s seem less ongoing glow

Take a moment to yourself.

Relax, reflect, love… you.