Well, I was going to write a post a couple days back, but then I was physically unable to. How so, you ask? Well, my left hand was out of commission.
What’d I do to my hand? How did I do whatever I did?
Well, let me explain.
Eh, what the heck? I’ll just tell you.
So I got into trouble the way that most people find themselves in it, by being an idiot. And not listening to my mama. Which I should know to listen to her by now cause she generally has better ideas about stuff than me. At least when it comes to knives.
So I found this great recipe for avocado toast with poached eggs and naturally I was very excited and felt the desire to try it as soon as possible. My plan was initially to try it that morning, but I woke up and food sounded like a bad idea and cleaning up sounded even worse. So I waited, but still with excitement.
So, finally lunch rolled around and I began to cut my avocado.
That is where it all went horribly wrong.
So, you know the little avocado trick with the knife? Well, I didn’t know about it. I had another avocado knife trick.
I held the knife in my hand and stabbed the seed vertically. Even though Mom had told me before to use a spoon. But no, I had to go and use the knife. Cause the silverware drawer was really far away.
And as you have probably guess, the knife slipped off the seed and sunk itself through the avocado and into my hand.
My mom had to patch me up, gave me a couple of “I told you so”s, but I didn’t need stitches and I lived to tell the tale.
And I have recovered enough to write and pick up lightweight things with my left hand. So all in all…
And now I’ll have a cool scar story. I lost a fight with an avocado.
Wait, that’s actually not that cool…
Do you guys have any embarrassing scar stories? Any other really sporadic bloggers out there?
Today I wanted to share a freeform poem I wrote based off of a person I met at church. I always enjoy hearing people’s stories, and this person had an interesting tattoo to go with their story. It was one of those things that are just begging to be written.
My heroes have been many different people over the years. Men and women, fictional and real, famous or unknown, these people have inspired me. They have made me try harder, reach further, dig my feet in when the world tries to pull me off the edge.
I want to surpass my heroes. I want to dig in deeper, fight harder, be smarter. I want to fight like my life is too short to care about what people think of me. I want to sing when I feel a song in my soul, I want to write the words that buzz in my fingers, I want to tell people I love them without reserve or “only when”s.
I want to do all these things, and I try to do them, but the fact remains that I get scared.
This life feels long to me. The songs too awkward, the people too broken, the words too hard.
But the truth is, this life isn’t long. And I can’t do the hard things. But He can, so I don’t need to be strong. I am weak, I know this, but if God is strong, then I can be too.
Somehow, it’s hard to remember this.
It’s hard to sing when you sometimes forget the tune and your voice wavers.
It’s hard to write when the words don’t flow and things don’t make sense, when the plot doesn’t come together and the characters don’t seem genuine.
It’s hard to tell people you love them when you don’t always feel like you do. When they do things that you don’t love and it’s hard to remember to see the person and not the filth they are smearing on themselves.
The things we want to do, need to do, are hard.
But I hope I will do them. Today and tomorrow and the next day. The next week. This year. Next year.
And at the end of my life, I hope I will stand before my Maker, my first and last Hero, and look him in the eyes as my knees shake and tremble because my inspiration, the comforter of my soul, is standing in front of me. I hope that while I stand in front of him, my mouth dry and a grin on my face, that I will force out the words “I did my best with what you gave me.” That I will mean them. That then, the words will tumble and I will tell my Father what I did.
I wrote the words that you put into my soul. I sang the songs that you handed me to sing. I loved the people you put into my life. I followed in your footsteps.
This is what I want to be able to say.
All of my heroes are fighters.
I hope I will be one too.
I want to fight to write the words that He’s given me, to sing the songs that play on repeat in my heart, to love everyone with open arms.
This is my heart, and it is many of yours. So let’s fight for this.
May the grace and strength of God allow us to do so.
Who are your heroes? What do you want to say at the end of your life?
I keep getting tagged and forgetting to do them. Whoops.
My friend, Rayne at the bus stop, nominated me for the Sunshine Blogger Award! Here are the rulesguidelines, for this prestigious award. Thanks so much, Rayne!
Thank the person(s) who nominated you in a blog post and link back to their blog.
Answer the 11 questions sent by the person who nominated you
Nominate 11 new blogs to receive the award and write them 11 new questions.
List the rules and display the Sunshine Blogger Award logo on your post and/or on your blog.
Alright. Now comes the interrogation Q&A that I am taking part in!
What motivated you to start blogging?
Hm. I really just wanted to be able to put my thoughts out into the world and read other people’s views on the world and all that is in it. I wanted to be able to get feedback from people other than my family.
Do you have a favorite story to tell people? (Hint: That’s a queue to tell US that story.)
Gosh, this is a hard, hard question…
I really like telling people about The Target Meltdown. I would tell you this story, but I really need an entire blog post to tell it. So I guess you won’t be hearing it. Sorry guys. If you really want to hear it, let me know, and I’ll write up a blog post.
Who is your favorite author?
Gosh. How the heck am I supposed to answer this question? Am I allowed to pass? Can I pass this one?
Guys, I’m sorry, I really am, but the opportunity for that gif… I needed to do it.
Alright, enough stalling, I know. My favorite author has changed so much over time and as I’ve changed my reading styles and what not. I have always loved C.S Lewis, J.R.R Tolkien, and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
I’m moving on before I write an entire blog posts about all the authors I like.
In what ways did this author inspire you in your own writing?
World building. I suck at it.
C.S Lewis and Tolkien do not.
What’s the greatest thing about your best friend?
Let’s just go with that my best friend is a fantastic human being who can play music better than anyone. Also he listens to me ramble and rant for longer and with more patience than anyone. Argue with me and I’ll fight you, people.
Camp or stay at a hotel?
Hotels, man, hotels. All the way. 1005%
Fantasy or contemporary?
This is all I have to say on the matter.
If you could meet any fictional character, which would it be?
Oh goodness. Hmm. So many, so many. Alright, I’m just picking a random one. I’m sorry, all other favorite characters!
Yea, so my favorite superhero is Iron-Man. Deal with it, y’all.
Do you have a special “spot” for reading?
Hahaha, oh yes.
Behind the curtain and my bed. Or sprawled on my carpet.
Do you ever binge-read?
Most of the things I read are binge-read, my friend. I am a pro at binge-reading.
Does music distract you while you’re reading or do you prefer it?
I prefer music. While reading, while cleaning, while walking to the store to get cereal.
Music is always good.
Now, comes the time for my eleven questions.
Would you prefer to live in a treehouse or a cabin on a mountain?
How long is acceptable to wear the same socks?
Best song to listen to while doing something boring in order to make it epic?
PB&J or turkey and cheese sandwiches?
What would you most like to play in a band? (Actual musical skill not required)
What is the most perfect breakfast?
What is your opinion on flying cars?
Favorite classic movie?
Do you like surprise birthday parties?
Which of the following would you like to work in: mall bookstore, used bookstore, or a library?
If there was one question you could ask and get the exact truth for an answer, what question would you ask?
I nominate anyone who has watched Back To The Future in the past month, has pink or blue in their blog theme, or has a secret dream to become a race car driver.
Something I’ve been thinking about lately is a personal battle of mine. I’m sure that many of you feel this struggle I’m about to describe, but even if you don’t, it still can be applicable.
I’m good at borrowing guilt, or “borrowing depravity”. I will feel guilty about things I have never done (and things I would never want to do) simply because I feel the need to wallow. Simply because I think if I’m not reminded of my own depravity, I might get an ego. Because I feel the need to wallow in my own sinfulness instead of His righteousness. If you’re nodding your head right now in understanding, let me tell you something.
That’s the Devil talking. Not God.
I like to remind myself that I’m not enough (more on this concept in a bit). Maybe I think that’s humility. Beating yourself up is humility, right?
So what, if I’m not enough? So what, if I fail expectations and fall on my face now and again? Reminding myself of that does not make me humble. It might not even be fully true.
Humility is defined as follows:
a modest or low view of one’s own importance; humbleness.
A modest view of my own importance is not focusing on what a horrible person I could potentially be. In fact, that’s the opposite of humility; what I’m doing in focusing on my errors and shortcomings and potential for wickedness is focusing again, upon myself. That’s not a modest view of how important I am, now is it? The world doesn’t revolve around us, it doesn’t revolve around me.
I know this, but it always manages to give me a shock when I’m reminded of it.
Going back to the “I’m not enough” statement now. Which is absurd. I’m not enough for God, most definitely. But when has he ever required me to be enough? This is the God that loved me when I was drowning in my own sin. This is the God who did not just drag me out of that hell, but the God who died the most excruciating death just so I would never have to feel my own sin coating my throat ever again.
So yea, I’m not enough.
Yea, I’m human. Yea, I mess up. I’m not ever going to be enough, I’m not ever going to succeed at everything, I’m not ever going to be right all the time. And I’ll be honest, that thought scares me, when I really let it sink in.
But here’s the flip side of that.
Jesus is/was/will be enough. Jesus already succeeded at everything; even defeating death, which strikes fear into all that meet it. Jesus will always be right.
So yea, I write to you now as a messy teenager, confused by the struggles in her head and knowing without a doubt that I’m not enough. I worry too much, I don’t know all the answers but I act like I know them and I get too heated about little things. I’m not enough.
And that’s more than ok.
Actually, that’s the greatest thing ever. I’m not enough, so He became enough. I wasn’t enough, so instead of leaving me there, in my not enough state, He hugged me close and informed me that the burden was no longer mine to bear.
So if you find yourself being reminded that you’re not enough, look that straight in the face and tell it yes with a smirk. You aren’t enough. But you aren’t meant to stay there, staring into the mirror and crying.
That has no power over you anymore.
Jesus doesn’t want you to stay there, looking at your hands and seeing how small and frail they are; too fragile to hold the weight they should be carrying.
He wants you to look at his hands, scarred and calloused. He wants you to see his wrists, where your burden found its final rest.
My friends, we are not meant to stay staring our depravity in the face. We were meant to defeat it. We were meant, you were meant to move past it, to refuse it any ground.
So if you find yourself trying to borrow guilt or depravity because you feel the need to remind yourself of your depravity, remember that Jesus is enough.
He doesn’t want you walking around with your head down and shoulders hunched, so why are you doing it, my friend?
Walk with your head high. Keep walking. Don’t look back to see if the shadows still look the same.
Keep on walking in the sun.
You are loved, no matter who you are, where you’re at in life, if you’re a church kid or want nothing to do with God, doesn’t matter where you call your home or who you call your family.
What matters is that you’re not enough, but He is.
Though the only problem now is I have no clue what to write about.
So until I find a good subject to write a whole post on, I’m going to give you some music recommendations. I listen to these songs while writing and they help me battle writers’ block on many occasions; but they just aren’t working currently. May they help you with cleaning or whatever task you must do.
Alright, so I’ve been gone for a little while now. A month and a couple weeks, whoops. A media fast/writers’ block was put in place by my parents/and writers’ block by my mind and I thought disappearing was a better option than writing a post. Sorry about that.
that was probably not my best idea??
I’ve been really settling into my new home here, and so much has happened that I won’t try and sum it up in a post (cause that would be ridiculously long and I would get my dates mixed up.) But the bottom line is, God is good. I am so, so blessed and life is so very good. Look up, my friends, and let the light trickle on your face. It is there, even when we can only see darkness in front of us. Look up.
Some Of The Things Ruby Has Learned This Month
(Told through gifs)
Ok, so I didn’t necessarily learn this, but I got Pop! Doctor Strange and Pop! Sawyer (from Lost) for my birthday. And you all needed to know this. Because they’re brilliant.
Oh and I just wanted to share this gem with y’all.
I promise I will try not to disappear for this long without warning again. Sorry!
The words fail to come to my fingers, my friends. They swirl in my head but don’t look right on paper. Like a misspelled word or a painting turned sideways. I want to write a poem, but I do not have the words to one. I can not write because what I have been saved from is overwhelming. I have a debt paid for that I can not explain in the simple words I know.
But that’s alright. The words will come. Until then, I can only rehash the words I know to be true. The words that have given me so much comfort.
Take heart, we are not in control.
there is power in the name of Jesus.
though satan should buffet, though trials should come…
make my life a prayer to you.
it is well, it is well
a wretch like me
there is power in the name of Jesus
i want to, i need to
be more like Jesus.
prone to wander
lord, i feel it.
it is well
nothing lasts, except the grace of God, by which I stand,
Just in time for Camp NaNoWriMo, I have a handy dandy sort of helpful(??) guide survival guide. Prepare to be amazed!
Look At All That You Must Accomplish… AKA Panic
After you have sufficiently been overwhelmed, move onto step two. It gets better from here.
Sort Out Your Priorities.
Look at what you need to get done that day, and please, look at it realistically. Factor in snack breaks and inevitable probable procrastination. Know your limits. Do not think things like “I can do five math lessons in an hour and then figure out that one plot hole in ten minutes.”
That. Will. Not. Happen. Realistically.
Trust me, I tried.
Start On The First Thing.
You’re laughing, aren’t you? “Wow, Ruby, I had no idea I was supposed to start. Thanks for adding that to the list.” You’d be surprised at how many projects are never finished because they were never actually started because the person got too lazy and procrastinated.
The beginning is the hardest part of any project. The middle and the end are beasts as well.
Make yourself begin. Whether it’s googling that math formula that you need to memorize, writing the first sentence of a book, or finishing that latin homework you forgot about over spring break.
Because once you begin, you feel guilty if you do not finish.
Let Yourself Have Breaks, But Not Too Many or Too Long.
See, you start out with great intentions of only having a ten minute break or a couple breaks. And then you wind up an hour or twenty breaks later explaining yourself to the pile of work that needs to be done and you look something like this man below.
And once you take too long or too many breaks, you start to crave the sun and fresh air. You want to talk to people.
Once that happens, you can’t go back to chipping away at your block of work. So do yourself a favor and limit the breaks. You can go lay in the sunshine when you’re done.
Work For The Allotted Time Period.
Once you have figured out how long you want your “work day” to be, every day, work for that entire amount of time. Plus breaks and whatnot. But don’t decide that you’re going to end earlier that day and go later the next. Do your best to have a rhythm. School and writing can be juggled chaotically, but still juggled. You’ve got this!
Once The Work Is Done, We Don’t Think About Work.
The work is done. It does not matter anymore. Work has no hold on us. We are free. Free as a bird. Until tomorrow morning.
All joking aside, this is actually very important. Placing what you must do tomorrow out of your mind once you can do no more is actually healthy. You stress less, you can relax more, and you can get more done if there is an end in sight.
Hope this was able to help those of you writers who were frantically looking for this guide. I got your back. 😉
I know I’ve been completely absent kind of quiet this past month. I’ve just been adjusting to my new home and doing a decent amount of school. Camp NaNoWriMo is coming up next month and I am extremely excited to write a completely new novel for it.
I really like Mushu gifs, alright? Give a girl a break.
Anyway, Mushu gifs aside, this has been an interesting month for me. I moved across the ocean, have lived and am currently living in a hotel for a little over three weeks now, been to a mall with a ski slope and penguins in it (no, I am not joking, that is a legit thing), and met a lot (and I mean a lot) of new people.
Here are some things I’ve learned or relearned about moving:
It gets easier once you’re actually there.
Emotions don’t make sense, just go into it knowing that. Let yourself feel the emotions, eat a bag of goldfish, and move on. No sense in dwelling on them.
Moving is an adventure, it’s a chance to explore something new. You have a completely blank slate. Nobody knows anything about you. You have so many opportunities to make minions to read your books one day new friends.
Find an anchor and you’ll be fine.
You’ll dream about all the goodbyes you said and wake up disoriented. It’s alright. Relish the feeling of knowing you’re done with goodbyes for a while and rub the sleep from your eyes.
If you want to get to know people, you need to go and make the first step. Prove that you’re going to stick around.
People are much friendlier than you might think.
Moving is scary but it’s not as scary as we make it out to be.
If you eat more ice cream than normal, it is completely fine.
Remember, goodbyes are hard but they are worth the hellos you said.
If you leave, it isn’t the end of the world. Rather, the beginning of a new one.
An end is required for the next chapter. Don’t hang onto the last words, rather, make new ones.