Dead week

Dead week = death week = I'm dying = help me

But really. I'm taking my finals early this year to Summit Ministries for a worldview camp, and I just might kill myself in the process of it all. Tests, projects, quizzes AND finals all in one week. 

I only have four days left. 

I can do this. 

And I can draw pictures instead of write papers like I'm supposed to. :)

If you haven't read The Little Prince, I highly recommend it. It's thought-provoking, for sure. 

Writing

I have an 8-10 page paper due in 11 hours and all I want to do is write.
I don't want to write more about Biblical manhood and womanhood even though I love this topic and all the things I have been learning about it.

I want to write my heart.
I want to write my heartbreak.
I want to write my feelings of utter joy for my cousin and his fiancee.
I want to write about my family.
I want to write about my thoughts.
I want to write about my upcoming trip.


But now is not the time.
I must do what I am responsible for and write what I must.

(boo)

Grandparents

I had lunch with my grandpa on Sunday, and he gave me a birthday card that day. I had it in my purse, and I just opened it last night (it's been crazy around here). The card itself was very sweet, and grandpa's added emphasis through underlined and bracketed words made me smile. But I was not ready for the rest of it. He told me how proud he was of me as a person, and then signed it. 

But he didn't just sign it for himself. 

He signed it for Grandma Jean and Papa John and Grandma Suzie, too. 

Grandpa Bob is my only grandparent who is alive today. Both of my dad's parents have passed away and so has my mom's mom. They all died within a two year span of each other - I was barely old enough to really know what was going on. I just remember being in and around hospitals a lot. My grandparents were all lovely people. The few memories I do have of them are all happy ones. They loved their grandchildren so very much, and I remember their love most of all. 

When I saw all of their names written at the bottom of the card, tears came to my eyes. My sweet grandpa. He loves me with the weight of four grandparents, not just one. 

I do wish that I could know my grandparents who have passed away. I want them to be able to see all of their grandchildren and great grandchildren. I want them to tell me stories about their lives. I want to learn from them and hug them and love them. 

Regardless of how much I miss them, I am overwhelmed with Grandpa Bob's thoughtfulness and love. I am so grateful to this man for continually bringing my family together and loving us all so much. He is a huge blessing in my life, and I love him more than I could ever say. 

Beautiful

I have been called beautiful by four strangers/almost strangers since Tuesday. 

(Before you think this is going to be a totally self-absorbed post, I'll promise you it gets better.)

As any girl can tell you, being called beautiful makes you really *feel* beautiful. It's a wonderful thing to feel beautiful, to feel feminine. I don't know if this is the case for everyone, but I think it makes other things seem beautiful too. 

Now, let's talk for a moment about what "beautiful" is. Every time I've been called beautiful this week, it's when I've been engaging someone wholeheartedly in conversation or serving them. That is what's beautiful to people - seeing other people as humans and loving them. It's not just a pretty face or a good hair day, it's love. Raw love. The kind of love that doesn't rest on infatuation or feelings, but on considering someone else more important than yourself and taking joy in that. Sometimes (actually, a lot of the time), that's not easy or fun, but it is beautiful. That beauty doesn't come from us, though. It can't.  We are naturally sinful, selfish people, and that is not beautiful. Where does beauty come from, then? It comes from Christ. Christ loved people so much that he died to make them alive and reconcile them with God. That is the most beautiful thing I know. When we love other people, we reflect this beauty of Christ, and that's what makes us beautiful. 

That being said, I want to tell people more often that they are beautiful. I don't want to say it just when their clothes look cute or their hair is perfect, I want to say it when they've spent all day on their hands and knees, scrubbing someone's floor; when they're wiping the sweat from their forehead after planting flowers in someone else's garden; when they've just had a conversation with the old woman sitting alone. Those actions are far more beautiful than any outward appearance could ever be because they reflect Christ.

Again.

Well, here's day two. I seriously need something to do or else I'm going to go crazy. 

That's the end, hopefully for a while. I'm tired of being sick and cooped up at home. 

Illustrations

Today I am sick, but I have made myself feel a little bit better by illustrating me and what I've been doing. With hashtags. Because sarcastic hashtags make me laugh. 

I may be the only one who enjoys all of these, but hey. That was the point. 

I branched out from hashtags because not everything can be held in hashtags.

Also, this was my sad realization after this whole process: 

The end.