What is love? No, I don't mean love like you love your boyfriend or your girlfriend or being IN love. I mean love. The way you love your friends, your parents, your children, your bothers, your sisters, your pets. Whatever it is that you love. Like the way your parents may bring home a new baby, and in that instant a new love develops. Like no matter what they do, you'll always love them. No conditions, no returns, no refunds.
When in Mexico, summer of 2009, one of the places we went was to an orphanage. The children there had every right to be miserable and bitter, but none of them were. They were smiling and happy and sweet. But one little girl in particular remains forever in my memory. I remember her very clearly. She had short, boyish hair, chocolate brown eyes, a petite, sweet face, and a heart of gold. When we were close to leaving, she came up and hugged me. Her head up to about my waist and her tiny arms wrapped around me. As she looked up at me with those big brown eyes, her smile was one of pure joy. A smile I've never seen before. A joy so pure, so whole, so right, that it changed my life forever.
And THAT is what love is. That little girl didn't know me, but for some unknown reason, she loved me. She wanted me to stay there with her forever. She wanted me to be her best friend, her sister, her mom. And if I could have stayed there with her, I know with all my heart that I would have. Thinking about her now brings tears to my eyes. Because never in my life have I seen such a pure soul, or that pure joy on her face.
The same thing goes for my nieces. Abigail, the first, my beloved Abigail, changed my life. As a baby, so sweet and little and innocent, to a toddler, growing brighter and bolder with every day, I've loved her since her day of birth. I watched her grow and get smarter and sweeter, loving her no matter what. And then Hayden was born, and I was there in the delivery room. Nothing is more incredible, more spectacular, than birth. From the moment she was born to her final days, I'll love her.
I'll never understand how someone can love or be loved unconditionally, for absolutely no reason. What's my reason for loving my parents? My nieces? My siblings? Just because. No because I'm supposed to, not because I'm told to, but because I just love them.
How does that work? And why? Why love someone for no reason? I don't know why it happens, or how. But I have to think, if I can love them so much, no matter what they do, how much must my God love me? Even though I make so many mistakes every day, He loves me. No matter what I do wrong, He loves me. Why? Because he made me. With Earth and sky and water and air, he spoke it into existence. But with us, with his people, he took his time. He carefully designed each one of us with a purpose. And he loves us, no matter what we do. It's unconditional. No returns, no refunds. So you have to always remember... no matter WHAT you do, God loves you, and he designed you. No matter what you do or say, he will always love you.
God Bless The USA ;)
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
R.I.P
Ok, so have you ever lost anyone? Someone special to you? A friend, a relative? Let me tell you, it sucks. And this past summer, I lost a friend. His name was Seth Carnahan...
Seth and I had been friends since we met in kindergarten. We were in nearly every class together every year all the way through fifth grade. Then in middle school we had fewer classes together, but were still friends. In 6th grade, we had gym together for 9 weeks an I must admit, those are my favorite memories of him. Playing basketball and soccer and football and other sports with him.
7th grade, in the middle of the year, he went to live with his dad in Anderson County. He went to a new school, joined a new football team, and became their star player. Seth was the kind of guy everyone wanted around; fun, sporty, smart, happy, and all-around just amazing. Those who knew him, loved him. And those who didn't love him never got the chance to know him. Seth loved everyone. He encircled those who were cast out by others with his unique friendship. He took care of them and befriended them.
And Seth was always smiling. His smile is one I could never forget. Something about i made you smile right back. You just couldn't help it. Seth radiated happiness and was care-free. He was a good kid, a bright student, and a great friend. No. He wasn't all of those things. He is all of those things. And he always will be.
But that summer, the summer of 2009, Seth came back. He came back to visit his friends and his mom and step-dad. He was 13 years old. It was late in the summer time, almost time for school. It was his 8th grade year. But August 1st, 2009, Seth drowned.
Him and his best friend, Caleb, were walking on the dam in Elkhorn Creek. The creek is 99 miles, one mile away from being a river. The creek was majorly flooded that day, due to lots of rain that week. But there they were on the dam, despite the high water level. Caleb dared Seth to jump in. Then and there, an impulsive decision is what cost him his life. Seth said he would jump in if Caleb did, and so they both jumped into the flooded water. Only Caleb made it out.
My dad, the preacher of the church Seth's mom and step-dad attended, had about 10 more minutes until he had to go on stage and preach. It was a late Saturday afternoon, and church was about to start. The police came in, and told him a teenage boy was missing and thought to have drowned. He left the church with the police and headed to the creek.
The search for Seth took 3 days. 3 days for his parents to agonize over whether or not he was dead or still out there, wandering around lost. 3 days for all of his friends to hope and pray and cry over him. And 3 days for them to find his dead body at the bottom of Elkhorn Creek.
The funeral was the worst. It was open-casket. All of his sandy brown hair had been cut off, his beautiful eyes sealed shut, an his face swollen and covered in thick makeup. It wasn't him. It wasn't Seth. It couldn't be. It was the first time I'd ever seen him look sad; and he looked broken. All the makeup made him look fake, like a doll that had been poorly made. Long sleeves covered his arms, but I knew they were cut up and cruised and shriveled like his hands looked.
Sad music played and the preacher droned on and on. But it just didn't seem real. That couldn't be Seth up there. This kind of thing just didn't happen. Especially not to people like Seth. I'd known him since I was 5 years old. I was 13 when he died. The same age as him. 8 years I'd known him. But none of this was real. Part of me still wanted so badly to believe that Seth, my Seth, was still out there, waiting to be rescued...
But it didn't happen that way. And as soon as reality found a way into my mind, my heart was broken. I cried myself to sleep many nights in a row, and I woke myself up sobbing after dreaming of him. I knew he was gone. And that reality was too painful.
Seth Andrew Carnahan: Nov. 1, 1995 - Aug. 1, 2009. Rest in Peace.
Seth and I had been friends since we met in kindergarten. We were in nearly every class together every year all the way through fifth grade. Then in middle school we had fewer classes together, but were still friends. In 6th grade, we had gym together for 9 weeks an I must admit, those are my favorite memories of him. Playing basketball and soccer and football and other sports with him.
7th grade, in the middle of the year, he went to live with his dad in Anderson County. He went to a new school, joined a new football team, and became their star player. Seth was the kind of guy everyone wanted around; fun, sporty, smart, happy, and all-around just amazing. Those who knew him, loved him. And those who didn't love him never got the chance to know him. Seth loved everyone. He encircled those who were cast out by others with his unique friendship. He took care of them and befriended them.
And Seth was always smiling. His smile is one I could never forget. Something about i made you smile right back. You just couldn't help it. Seth radiated happiness and was care-free. He was a good kid, a bright student, and a great friend. No. He wasn't all of those things. He is all of those things. And he always will be.
But that summer, the summer of 2009, Seth came back. He came back to visit his friends and his mom and step-dad. He was 13 years old. It was late in the summer time, almost time for school. It was his 8th grade year. But August 1st, 2009, Seth drowned.
Him and his best friend, Caleb, were walking on the dam in Elkhorn Creek. The creek is 99 miles, one mile away from being a river. The creek was majorly flooded that day, due to lots of rain that week. But there they were on the dam, despite the high water level. Caleb dared Seth to jump in. Then and there, an impulsive decision is what cost him his life. Seth said he would jump in if Caleb did, and so they both jumped into the flooded water. Only Caleb made it out.
My dad, the preacher of the church Seth's mom and step-dad attended, had about 10 more minutes until he had to go on stage and preach. It was a late Saturday afternoon, and church was about to start. The police came in, and told him a teenage boy was missing and thought to have drowned. He left the church with the police and headed to the creek.
The search for Seth took 3 days. 3 days for his parents to agonize over whether or not he was dead or still out there, wandering around lost. 3 days for all of his friends to hope and pray and cry over him. And 3 days for them to find his dead body at the bottom of Elkhorn Creek.
The funeral was the worst. It was open-casket. All of his sandy brown hair had been cut off, his beautiful eyes sealed shut, an his face swollen and covered in thick makeup. It wasn't him. It wasn't Seth. It couldn't be. It was the first time I'd ever seen him look sad; and he looked broken. All the makeup made him look fake, like a doll that had been poorly made. Long sleeves covered his arms, but I knew they were cut up and cruised and shriveled like his hands looked.
Sad music played and the preacher droned on and on. But it just didn't seem real. That couldn't be Seth up there. This kind of thing just didn't happen. Especially not to people like Seth. I'd known him since I was 5 years old. I was 13 when he died. The same age as him. 8 years I'd known him. But none of this was real. Part of me still wanted so badly to believe that Seth, my Seth, was still out there, waiting to be rescued...
But it didn't happen that way. And as soon as reality found a way into my mind, my heart was broken. I cried myself to sleep many nights in a row, and I woke myself up sobbing after dreaming of him. I knew he was gone. And that reality was too painful.
Seth Andrew Carnahan: Nov. 1, 1995 - Aug. 1, 2009. Rest in Peace.
Friday, June 12, 2009
Teenage Love
The teenage years. Ages 13 through 17. No longer a child, not yet an adult. A roller-coaster of emotions and a tornado of rushed feelings.
They say that teenagers don't know what love is; but they do. It is love, just a different kind of love than the love that adults share. But should that love change? The butterflies in your stomach, the constant thoughts of that one special person. The way you can barely contain how much you care for that one person. How much you want to be with them; what you'd give to know that they love you back. That is the love of teenagers.
But sometimes things can go too far. Teenage pregnancy? Premarital sex? It's wrong. No questions. That's not love; that's insecurity, looking for someone to 'love'. But when we hit adulthood, what happens to the thrill of love? The overwhelming care you have for someone, the butterflies, the willingness to share your love. Is it still there, or does it fade? Why?
If we all loved like children and teenagers, it would last longer. Maybe forever, if we were to live that long. The thrill of it never fades, as long as you remain in the arms of that person. The thundering heartbeats going 100 miles an hour, the butterflies in your stomach, batting their wings and tickling your insides. The dreams and thoughts of them, the longing to be with them.
The Lord says that the faith of a child is strongest. So have the faith of a child in love, and all will be ok, right? We will never know for sure, because love fades. It seems to disappear if not kept alive. Candlelight dinners and romantic music, love languages and roses. Family trips and bonding. Is it enough to keep the love of adults alive? If we all loved like teenagers, we wouldn't have to worry. Young love can survive through anything.
They say that teenagers don't know what love is; but they do. It is love, just a different kind of love than the love that adults share. But should that love change? The butterflies in your stomach, the constant thoughts of that one special person. The way you can barely contain how much you care for that one person. How much you want to be with them; what you'd give to know that they love you back. That is the love of teenagers.
But sometimes things can go too far. Teenage pregnancy? Premarital sex? It's wrong. No questions. That's not love; that's insecurity, looking for someone to 'love'. But when we hit adulthood, what happens to the thrill of love? The overwhelming care you have for someone, the butterflies, the willingness to share your love. Is it still there, or does it fade? Why?
If we all loved like children and teenagers, it would last longer. Maybe forever, if we were to live that long. The thrill of it never fades, as long as you remain in the arms of that person. The thundering heartbeats going 100 miles an hour, the butterflies in your stomach, batting their wings and tickling your insides. The dreams and thoughts of them, the longing to be with them.
The Lord says that the faith of a child is strongest. So have the faith of a child in love, and all will be ok, right? We will never know for sure, because love fades. It seems to disappear if not kept alive. Candlelight dinners and romantic music, love languages and roses. Family trips and bonding. Is it enough to keep the love of adults alive? If we all loved like teenagers, we wouldn't have to worry. Young love can survive through anything.
Monday, May 25, 2009
Rain
Rain, rain, rain. Why is rain the symbol of sadness? It really shouldn't be. People say that raindrops are the tears of Angels or snows from Hell. What are raindrops?
The rain brings life to the world around us; so how is it that we consider it a bad omen? It keeps the plants alive, the grass green, the earth wet with puddles that all the children love to splash and play in.
One of my favorite quotes is one I found on the internet a while ago. I'm not sure who said it, but whoever did was wise. He said, "Whoever loves the sun has never danced in the rain."
Have you ever danced in the rain? There's a simplicity to it, yet a complication unknown to anyone. No one can explain the joys of feeling the wet raindrops fall on your face, or the wind comb through your wet hair. The puddles beneath your feet keep you cool, and the clouds overhead bring a fresh breeze. The damp ground creates a fresh, earthy aroma. It smells of new rains and pine and grass and leaves; all the smells of a forest, intensified. The sweet smell is one that cannot be replaced by anything else.
So have you ever danced in the rain? Do you dare to try? To risk getting wet? To step out of your comfort zone and into a new world? Dancing in the rain isn't just an activity; it's allowing yourself to join a new world where you become closer to the earth. It's natural, the way we as people love to dance, and the rain falling on our faces and pattering on the ground is the best rhythm the earth can offer.
So through all this rain, will you mourn over the sun's disappearance, or you will go out and dance? If you need me, I'll be dancing.
The rain brings life to the world around us; so how is it that we consider it a bad omen? It keeps the plants alive, the grass green, the earth wet with puddles that all the children love to splash and play in.
One of my favorite quotes is one I found on the internet a while ago. I'm not sure who said it, but whoever did was wise. He said, "Whoever loves the sun has never danced in the rain."
Have you ever danced in the rain? There's a simplicity to it, yet a complication unknown to anyone. No one can explain the joys of feeling the wet raindrops fall on your face, or the wind comb through your wet hair. The puddles beneath your feet keep you cool, and the clouds overhead bring a fresh breeze. The damp ground creates a fresh, earthy aroma. It smells of new rains and pine and grass and leaves; all the smells of a forest, intensified. The sweet smell is one that cannot be replaced by anything else.
So have you ever danced in the rain? Do you dare to try? To risk getting wet? To step out of your comfort zone and into a new world? Dancing in the rain isn't just an activity; it's allowing yourself to join a new world where you become closer to the earth. It's natural, the way we as people love to dance, and the rain falling on our faces and pattering on the ground is the best rhythm the earth can offer.
So through all this rain, will you mourn over the sun's disappearance, or you will go out and dance? If you need me, I'll be dancing.
~Nina <3
Sunday, May 24, 2009
What Love Really Is
There's no specific reason for this blog. I just felt the need to write something. I'm so excited I get to go to Junior High Challenge! And what's better, our new youth intern is coming! Lately I've been very into my music. I listen to it all the time, and every time I do I feel so... great. Something about it just seems to free me. It's like an escape from our world, into a new world of music where there's no pain. Only happiness and joy. I can't explain it. I feel as if chains have been lifted off of me, a weight gone from my shoulders. It's a freedom I cling to.
I'm working on my 1 person. I'm trying to get my friend Anthony to come to church. He's been a great friend to me in the past, and it's time for me to return the favor and bring him closer to God. I'm also working on my friend Shelby, who is a Buddhist. Her family really has no religion, and she's found a happiness in Buddhism.
I've decided to read my bible. My entire bible. This will be the first time, and I based my decision on Andrew's sermon in the "Why" series. I'm planning on finishing it before School starts up again in August.
Hayden is getting bigger already. She's so precious and beautiful; her gorgeous blue eyes against her soft skin makes her look like an angel. In my opinion, she IS an angel. She was our little gift from heaven. First God sent us Abigail, and now he's sent us Hayden. Our family is growing and we praise God for it. Abigail has been such a good big sister to Hayden. She's been such a good girl. I can't wait for her to come back to Grandma's house to spend the night with us again.
It's amazing how people think they know you. I ind it amusing how people at my school talk about me, as if they know every detail of my life. When they confront me about something that's maybe untrue or rude, I simply smile and walk away. I find it hard not to laugh. Most people may be torn to shreds if they had even half of the things said about me pointed toward them. I only think it's amusing. They don't know who I am, and they won't be lucky enough to ever know who I am if they keep thinking that way.
My friends are always there for me when I need them. Waverly is there to cry with me. Shelby is there to talk me through it. Anthony is there to hug me when I need it. And Beka? Beka is there no matter what. She's there to love me and forgive me for everything I do wrong. She sees through my fake smile when something's wrong. She always knows what I'm thinking and feeling. She always knows when I need her, and she's always there.
God's greatest gift to me was Beka. Sometimes I treat her cruelly, but she forgives me every time. I can be so bossy and mean and cruel, but she always sticks around, because she knows that those are the times I need her most. I never had a real friend until God gave me Beka, and I'll never have a friend as great as her as long as I live. She means the world to me. She was there when I lost my first tooth. She was there when my hamster, mouse, bird, and other mouse died. She was there when I had to give my guinea pig away. She was there when I first cut myself. (one of the stupidest decisions of my life). She was there to tell me how tupid and selfish I was being when I kept talking about suicide, even though we both knew I'd never even try it. She was there when I had to go to counseling, and she was there when I got better. She was there when I decided that she was right; there was no point in hurting myself to feel better. All I needed was God and I'd be ok. God would always be there for me; and so would she. She was there with me through everything, and she always will be there for me. She was and is God's greatest gift to me, and I love her more than anything.
I'm working on my 1 person. I'm trying to get my friend Anthony to come to church. He's been a great friend to me in the past, and it's time for me to return the favor and bring him closer to God. I'm also working on my friend Shelby, who is a Buddhist. Her family really has no religion, and she's found a happiness in Buddhism.
I've decided to read my bible. My entire bible. This will be the first time, and I based my decision on Andrew's sermon in the "Why" series. I'm planning on finishing it before School starts up again in August.
Hayden is getting bigger already. She's so precious and beautiful; her gorgeous blue eyes against her soft skin makes her look like an angel. In my opinion, she IS an angel. She was our little gift from heaven. First God sent us Abigail, and now he's sent us Hayden. Our family is growing and we praise God for it. Abigail has been such a good big sister to Hayden. She's been such a good girl. I can't wait for her to come back to Grandma's house to spend the night with us again.
It's amazing how people think they know you. I ind it amusing how people at my school talk about me, as if they know every detail of my life. When they confront me about something that's maybe untrue or rude, I simply smile and walk away. I find it hard not to laugh. Most people may be torn to shreds if they had even half of the things said about me pointed toward them. I only think it's amusing. They don't know who I am, and they won't be lucky enough to ever know who I am if they keep thinking that way.
My friends are always there for me when I need them. Waverly is there to cry with me. Shelby is there to talk me through it. Anthony is there to hug me when I need it. And Beka? Beka is there no matter what. She's there to love me and forgive me for everything I do wrong. She sees through my fake smile when something's wrong. She always knows what I'm thinking and feeling. She always knows when I need her, and she's always there.
God's greatest gift to me was Beka. Sometimes I treat her cruelly, but she forgives me every time. I can be so bossy and mean and cruel, but she always sticks around, because she knows that those are the times I need her most. I never had a real friend until God gave me Beka, and I'll never have a friend as great as her as long as I live. She means the world to me. She was there when I lost my first tooth. She was there when my hamster, mouse, bird, and other mouse died. She was there when I had to give my guinea pig away. She was there when I first cut myself. (one of the stupidest decisions of my life). She was there to tell me how tupid and selfish I was being when I kept talking about suicide, even though we both knew I'd never even try it. She was there when I had to go to counseling, and she was there when I got better. She was there when I decided that she was right; there was no point in hurting myself to feel better. All I needed was God and I'd be ok. God would always be there for me; and so would she. She was there with me through everything, and she always will be there for me. She was and is God's greatest gift to me, and I love her more than anything.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
The Beauty Of Life
Monday, February 23rd of 2009, my new niece was born. Her name is Hayden Elizabeth, and she is beautiful. For the first time, I was in the delivery room as a baby was born. People continue to ask me, "What did you think?" But there were no thoughts. Only the trick of the mind where you think you must be in a dream to expreience something so spectacular, but you're not. It's just the beauty of new life, coming into the world.
What is it that makes something so natural have such beauty? I may never understand. There were no thoughts. Only the rush of feeling. The racing of the heart, the butterflies in the stomach, the simple feeling of overwhelming excitement that consumes you.
I was experiencing all of that, but yet it was so much more. So much that I couldn't possibly put into words. I can't even begin to explain what I felt once she was born, lying there on the table, so innocent, so precious. She is God's gift to the world. Yet, a close friend told me that we should be sad when a child is born into this cruel, bloody world, and happy when someone passes away and enters the eternal greatness of heaven.
But I am overjoyed that she is here. I can hold her in my arms. I can sing softly into her ear, keep her close, tell her I love her. She is more special than she will ever know. She is precious and delicate and the most amazing thing I could ever have even imagined.
I will never forget how incredible it was to watch her be born. New life entering the word is simply amazing, yet more complicated the even the wisest of men can understand. No words can describe it.
And people continue to ask me, "What did you think?" but all I answer is, "There are no thoughts. Only incredible, indescribable feelings."
What is it that makes something so natural have such beauty? I may never understand. There were no thoughts. Only the rush of feeling. The racing of the heart, the butterflies in the stomach, the simple feeling of overwhelming excitement that consumes you.
I was experiencing all of that, but yet it was so much more. So much that I couldn't possibly put into words. I can't even begin to explain what I felt once she was born, lying there on the table, so innocent, so precious. She is God's gift to the world. Yet, a close friend told me that we should be sad when a child is born into this cruel, bloody world, and happy when someone passes away and enters the eternal greatness of heaven.
But I am overjoyed that she is here. I can hold her in my arms. I can sing softly into her ear, keep her close, tell her I love her. She is more special than she will ever know. She is precious and delicate and the most amazing thing I could ever have even imagined.
I will never forget how incredible it was to watch her be born. New life entering the word is simply amazing, yet more complicated the even the wisest of men can understand. No words can describe it.
And people continue to ask me, "What did you think?" but all I answer is, "There are no thoughts. Only incredible, indescribable feelings."
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Light in the Storm
Even in the worst storms of life, there is a light. A person that can help you through anything, right? I know, I know, I sound ridiculous. But it's true. If you read my previous blog, you might understand the kind of train-wreck I'm in. But I have my little light.
You see, my light has helped me through thick and thin in the past few weeks. I can tell him anything. Every time he sees me he opens his arms, knowing I'll need a hug. He's kind and understanding and fun all at once. He is what keeps me going through life.
He was there for me when my storm hit. But he was my sun shining through the thick black clouds, hovering over me, destroying me, but he helped me up and sturdied me, even under the weight of the storm.
I won't mention who my light is, for his sake. I consider him my best friend, whether he thinks of me that way or not. I know he can help me through anything, and I know he will. I trust him with everything I've got, even my life. I maybe depend on him for too much, but he's too loyal to say anything if I am.
I would lay down my life for my friends, and he is one of them. Of my few true friends, I can definitely say that he is one. I can and do tell him everything, my darkest secrets, my unique stories, my dreams, my fairytales.
He is everything to me. So, who is the light of your storm?
You see, my light has helped me through thick and thin in the past few weeks. I can tell him anything. Every time he sees me he opens his arms, knowing I'll need a hug. He's kind and understanding and fun all at once. He is what keeps me going through life.
He was there for me when my storm hit. But he was my sun shining through the thick black clouds, hovering over me, destroying me, but he helped me up and sturdied me, even under the weight of the storm.
I won't mention who my light is, for his sake. I consider him my best friend, whether he thinks of me that way or not. I know he can help me through anything, and I know he will. I trust him with everything I've got, even my life. I maybe depend on him for too much, but he's too loyal to say anything if I am.
I would lay down my life for my friends, and he is one of them. Of my few true friends, I can definitely say that he is one. I can and do tell him everything, my darkest secrets, my unique stories, my dreams, my fairytales.
He is everything to me. So, who is the light of your storm?
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