I find Facebook friending dumb.
Really dumb.
I went to camp last week.
I met lots of new people. The ones I actually met and created a friendship with, I added. Because I wanted to stay connected with them.
But I continue getting requests from people who I do not recognize and would not be able to pick out of the crowd... I'm sorry... I mean, if you really want to be my friend on Facebook, message me and tell me why... Because if I don't know you I won't accept the request. I don't mean to hurt anyone by saying that... It's just true. I don't add everyone. My friends on Facebook are my friends. I don't add the people who were mean to me in third grade. I don't add everyone in my entire grade.
Sorry, I like a little privacy.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Friday, July 8, 2011
Logging out of Facebook...
Last night I logged out of Facebook on my iPod and moved the app to a different, empty page. Why? Because I'm giving up Facebook for a while. Why would I do that?
Well, I spend a lot of time on Facebook. And I've been out of school a month and haven't even read a book.
So I decided I would log out of Facebook at least until camp. So that I could get back to writing, crafting, and blogging.
So what did I do on my first day without Facebook?
1. I laid in the sun and read Harry Potter (finished book 1!).
2. I made about 10 more flower hair clips that I am selling for $3 a piece. (email me for a picture)
3. I played frisbee with my brother.
I still plan on doing a bit of TAWG outside while watching the sunset, some journaling, and writing a few letters to my small group girls.
One day without Facebook and I feel like I have done so much!
Well, I spend a lot of time on Facebook. And I've been out of school a month and haven't even read a book.
So I decided I would log out of Facebook at least until camp. So that I could get back to writing, crafting, and blogging.
So what did I do on my first day without Facebook?
1. I laid in the sun and read Harry Potter (finished book 1!).
2. I made about 10 more flower hair clips that I am selling for $3 a piece. (email me for a picture)
3. I played frisbee with my brother.
I still plan on doing a bit of TAWG outside while watching the sunset, some journaling, and writing a few letters to my small group girls.
One day without Facebook and I feel like I have done so much!
Friday, May 6, 2011
Be patient with me...
heard a beautiful song today.
It's called "Lover of Ashes" an it's by JJ Heller.
Here are the lyrics:
Simple voice talk to me in simple words
Gentle wind come sing to me the songs that I know
Come to me and hold my heart inside of me
Come and see
Come and see in me
Oh lover of ashes
Be patient with me
My filthy complexion is all that I see
But up from these ashes a beauty will rise
The pride of her father
Though humble in size
Perfect love
Fill my soul with melody
Perfect words of perfect peace
I will breathe, I will sing
I will breathe, I will sing
"Oh lover of ashes, be patient with me"....
I definitely need God's patience right now. Things are so weird. Things aren't feeling quite right...
Whatever You're doing inside of me
It feels like chaos but somehow there's peace
It's hard to surrender to what I can't see
but I'm giving in to something Heavenly
It's called "Lover of Ashes" an it's by JJ Heller.
Here are the lyrics:
Simple voice talk to me in simple words
Gentle wind come sing to me the songs that I know
Come to me and hold my heart inside of me
Come and see
Come and see in me
Oh lover of ashes
Be patient with me
My filthy complexion is all that I see
But up from these ashes a beauty will rise
The pride of her father
Though humble in size
Perfect love
Fill my soul with melody
Perfect words of perfect peace
I will breathe, I will sing
I will breathe, I will sing
"Oh lover of ashes, be patient with me"....
I definitely need God's patience right now. Things are so weird. Things aren't feeling quite right...
Whatever You're doing inside of me
It feels like chaos but somehow there's peace
It's hard to surrender to what I can't see
but I'm giving in to something Heavenly
Friday, March 25, 2011
Getting to say goodbye.
Let's say you have been given a month to live. What do you do in that time?
First, I would probably cry. I would cry because I would feel like I still had many things left to do, but then I would realize God knows what He is doing.
Next, I would start writing letters. I would write a letter to each person I love. My cousins, my parents, my friends, and the people I wish I had worked things out with. I wouldn't tell anyone about them. Each letter would be placed in an envelope, the name scrawled across the front, and then tossed into a box with the rest of them.
Why would I do this? Well... I communicate through written language. I don't communicate well through spoken words very well. And I have hundreds of things I want people to know. I want people to know about hope and real love. I want people to know about freedom.
The next thing I would do is write my story. All of it. From different angles, with different things emphasized.
I would also continue to journal. I would fill up blank pages with what was going on, how I felt, and my prayers to the God who could heal me.
A few days before my month was up, I would make sure someone had all my journals. I would tell that person to share them. I would tell them to share my story. The ugly parts. The pretty parts.
But through everything else I would do, I would also spend time with people. And just talk. Just be. I would slow down, like I always meant to, and really get to know the people I love. I would ask for funny stories and sad stories.
I would pray a heck of a lot, too.
So, if you had a month left to live, what would you do? Who would you spend it with? Where would you go?
First, I would probably cry. I would cry because I would feel like I still had many things left to do, but then I would realize God knows what He is doing.
Next, I would start writing letters. I would write a letter to each person I love. My cousins, my parents, my friends, and the people I wish I had worked things out with. I wouldn't tell anyone about them. Each letter would be placed in an envelope, the name scrawled across the front, and then tossed into a box with the rest of them.
Why would I do this? Well... I communicate through written language. I don't communicate well through spoken words very well. And I have hundreds of things I want people to know. I want people to know about hope and real love. I want people to know about freedom.
The next thing I would do is write my story. All of it. From different angles, with different things emphasized.
I would also continue to journal. I would fill up blank pages with what was going on, how I felt, and my prayers to the God who could heal me.
A few days before my month was up, I would make sure someone had all my journals. I would tell that person to share them. I would tell them to share my story. The ugly parts. The pretty parts.
But through everything else I would do, I would also spend time with people. And just talk. Just be. I would slow down, like I always meant to, and really get to know the people I love. I would ask for funny stories and sad stories.
I would pray a heck of a lot, too.
So, if you had a month left to live, what would you do? Who would you spend it with? Where would you go?
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Monday, March 14, 2011
Music day
I have been holding onto this (^^) song as a promise. Especially the "You are peace. You are peace when my fear is crippling". It's been a phrase I repeat a lot.
I like to worship God in Spanish. Last night driving down the road I sang Spanish songs because I remembered the lyrics.
Perception.
"How did you know?" She sent.
"I don't know... I just did." I replied.
Sometimes, I just know things. Not like knowledge. I mean when a person walks by me or walks up to me, sometimes I know exactly what they are struggling with (or have struggled with).
A perfect example happened over Christmas break at Winter Retreat. There was a girl there who I had seen before, but never met. After talking to her I felt like we were kind of similar. When she shared during small group times I knew more and more that she was a lot like me. (I stalked her blog after WR and found out my suspicions were correct. (: ) She never out right said anything outright about certain things, I just knew.
Those of you who know me know that I give hugs a lot. Some days I need a hug, so I go through my day looking for someone who might need a hug. And when I see the right person, I just know.
We talked about hearing God's voice during chapel groups a while back. We were asked if we had ever hears God's voice and, if so, what it sounded like. I have never heard a booming voice like Moses hears in the movies. I often receive a little prodding in my chest. Instead of a cmand "Kaylyn, you must do this if you love Me", He uses His still, small voice to tug and nudge my heart towards the people with needs.
Tonight after sharin my testimony one girl mentioned I was a great encourager. (Thanks Sabrina!) That's not me. I honestly believe God uses my hands to type or write those things. I just listen for the things I am supposed to write.
I can't explain it, but I keep using it because I know it's God.
(Oh, and I have lunch with the girl from the first paragraph on Sunday. At least, I will if everything works out. I'm so excited! I sent her a copy of my testimony tonight. I had been debating for a long time over whether or not I should send it to her. Finally, I sucked up my fear and sent it off through the vast world of the Internet. It was a good decision.)
"I don't know... I just did." I replied.
Sometimes, I just know things. Not like knowledge. I mean when a person walks by me or walks up to me, sometimes I know exactly what they are struggling with (or have struggled with).
A perfect example happened over Christmas break at Winter Retreat. There was a girl there who I had seen before, but never met. After talking to her I felt like we were kind of similar. When she shared during small group times I knew more and more that she was a lot like me. (I stalked her blog after WR and found out my suspicions were correct. (: ) She never out right said anything outright about certain things, I just knew.
Those of you who know me know that I give hugs a lot. Some days I need a hug, so I go through my day looking for someone who might need a hug. And when I see the right person, I just know.
We talked about hearing God's voice during chapel groups a while back. We were asked if we had ever hears God's voice and, if so, what it sounded like. I have never heard a booming voice like Moses hears in the movies. I often receive a little prodding in my chest. Instead of a cmand "Kaylyn, you must do this if you love Me", He uses His still, small voice to tug and nudge my heart towards the people with needs.
Tonight after sharin my testimony one girl mentioned I was a great encourager. (Thanks Sabrina!) That's not me. I honestly believe God uses my hands to type or write those things. I just listen for the things I am supposed to write.
I can't explain it, but I keep using it because I know it's God.
(Oh, and I have lunch with the girl from the first paragraph on Sunday. At least, I will if everything works out. I'm so excited! I sent her a copy of my testimony tonight. I had been debating for a long time over whether or not I should send it to her. Finally, I sucked up my fear and sent it off through the vast world of the Internet. It was a good decision.)
Fights, Stories, and Tears
"My God is not dead. He is surely alive."
I got into a fight with God tonight.
Really? Who gets into a fight with the creator of the universe?
Me.
I got into the car to drive to small groups and I was mad. I was mad God was making me share my testimony.
I turned off the radio and I sat there huffily.
"I'm not going to do it!" I said out loud. "You can't make me."
I was driving down the road telling God He couldn't make me do something. Yes, sometimes I act like a three-year-old. Sorry. A knot sat in my stomach and I wanted to throw up. I was nervous. I was terrified. I did NOT want to go to small groups.
I thought about turning around and going home. But I kept on driving. Right into Nappanee and into the field next to the house where we meet.
No one else was there yet. I pulled out my journal and tried to write everything down. I tried to be honest. I tried to calm down.
I was terrified. What would the other girls think? Was I going to cry the way I had when I wrote it? (which, by the way, was me basically rolled into a ball, sobbing. no, I did not enjoy writing it.) I was scared. I tried to reassure myself.
Deep breath.
"God is still with me."
Deep breath.
"He loves me when no one else does."
Another girl pulled up and we went out to the pool house. My small group ate dinner and we talked about stuff that had happened since we had met last.
Then, Tonya, our leader, gave me the floor.
Now, I hate talking for long periods of time. I hate one-sided conversations and long stories about one moment/event. I had to fight all those fears tonight. I grabbed some tissues and started. I had it written on my iPod as a guideline, so I kept referencing it. In the second paragraph I started crying. My voice got all weird and after that I kept losing my train of thought. (which resulted in lots of "um"s and "like"s.)
At one point I thought I was going to cry and not be able to stop (but I pulled through).
When I finished I was still terrified. What did they think of me? Did I ruin their idea of me?
I'm scared of the dark in unfamiliar areas, so I waited for someone to walk out to their car so I could go with them when it was time to leave.
I climbed into my car and frantically shut the door and locked it behind me. (fear of the dark. I have to have the doors locked at ALL times.)
I sat in my car with the keys in the ignition for a few seconds and thought. I started my car and started my journey home. I shut off the radio and started to sing.
I don't have a great voice, but I I knew I couldn't sing with someone else leading me at that moment.
After awhile, I started talking out loud to God. I didn't really realize I was speaking, but words kept coming out. I talked to Him like He was right there in the passenger seat. I started crying as I talked to Him.
Yes, He already knew all those things, but I still had to tell Him. I had to admit things and ask Him to hold onto me and help me believe.
One thing I kept saying again and again was "I don't want to keep living like this." I don't want to keep depending on things to keep me happy. All I want is God.
I'm still processing all the things God showed me while I shared tonight.
Tonight was one of the best nights I have had in quite a long time. (:
I got into a fight with God tonight.
Really? Who gets into a fight with the creator of the universe?
Me.
I got into the car to drive to small groups and I was mad. I was mad God was making me share my testimony.
I turned off the radio and I sat there huffily.
"I'm not going to do it!" I said out loud. "You can't make me."
I was driving down the road telling God He couldn't make me do something. Yes, sometimes I act like a three-year-old. Sorry. A knot sat in my stomach and I wanted to throw up. I was nervous. I was terrified. I did NOT want to go to small groups.
I thought about turning around and going home. But I kept on driving. Right into Nappanee and into the field next to the house where we meet.
No one else was there yet. I pulled out my journal and tried to write everything down. I tried to be honest. I tried to calm down.
I was terrified. What would the other girls think? Was I going to cry the way I had when I wrote it? (which, by the way, was me basically rolled into a ball, sobbing. no, I did not enjoy writing it.) I was scared. I tried to reassure myself.
Deep breath.
"God is still with me."
Deep breath.
"He loves me when no one else does."
Another girl pulled up and we went out to the pool house. My small group ate dinner and we talked about stuff that had happened since we had met last.
Then, Tonya, our leader, gave me the floor.
Now, I hate talking for long periods of time. I hate one-sided conversations and long stories about one moment/event. I had to fight all those fears tonight. I grabbed some tissues and started. I had it written on my iPod as a guideline, so I kept referencing it. In the second paragraph I started crying. My voice got all weird and after that I kept losing my train of thought. (which resulted in lots of "um"s and "like"s.)
At one point I thought I was going to cry and not be able to stop (but I pulled through).
When I finished I was still terrified. What did they think of me? Did I ruin their idea of me?
I'm scared of the dark in unfamiliar areas, so I waited for someone to walk out to their car so I could go with them when it was time to leave.
I climbed into my car and frantically shut the door and locked it behind me. (fear of the dark. I have to have the doors locked at ALL times.)
I sat in my car with the keys in the ignition for a few seconds and thought. I started my car and started my journey home. I shut off the radio and started to sing.
I don't have a great voice, but I I knew I couldn't sing with someone else leading me at that moment.
After awhile, I started talking out loud to God. I didn't really realize I was speaking, but words kept coming out. I talked to Him like He was right there in the passenger seat. I started crying as I talked to Him.
Yes, He already knew all those things, but I still had to tell Him. I had to admit things and ask Him to hold onto me and help me believe.
One thing I kept saying again and again was "I don't want to keep living like this." I don't want to keep depending on things to keep me happy. All I want is God.
I'm still processing all the things God showed me while I shared tonight.
Tonight was one of the best nights I have had in quite a long time. (:
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Nervous.
"It's not about what you did then. It's about who you are now." -me
At 6:30 pm tomorrow night I will be sharing my testimony with my small group. I keep hoping it will be moved to next week. There is a knot in my stomach that churns and aches when think about sharing. I shouldn't be so scared, but I am. Just like in the rest of my life, I fear rejection and failure. I fear my small group might not understand and will not work to understand. I fear I might even be able to share because I will cry. I have gone over the events I'm sharing over and over in my mind, but I know as soon as I start talking, I will start crying. I cried just holding my pen to my paper. I can't imagine how much I will cry as I actually speak.
I also fear people thinking that my past is my present and my future. It's not, but I don't know how many girls will realize that.
I know Jesus is my strength, but in situations like this it is so hard to just hand it all over.
At 6:30 pm tomorrow night I will be sharing my testimony with my small group. I keep hoping it will be moved to next week. There is a knot in my stomach that churns and aches when think about sharing. I shouldn't be so scared, but I am. Just like in the rest of my life, I fear rejection and failure. I fear my small group might not understand and will not work to understand. I fear I might even be able to share because I will cry. I have gone over the events I'm sharing over and over in my mind, but I know as soon as I start talking, I will start crying. I cried just holding my pen to my paper. I can't imagine how much I will cry as I actually speak.
I also fear people thinking that my past is my present and my future. It's not, but I don't know how many girls will realize that.
I know Jesus is my strength, but in situations like this it is so hard to just hand it all over.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Overcome
Tonight we sang "How He Loves". That song is absolutely my favorite.
Especially when I switch up the lyrics.
Tonight instead of singing
I sang
I always change the pronouns "He" to "You" and "us" to "me". No, I don't think singing those words is selfish at all. Especially as someone who has searched for real love for the longest time.
As I sang I became overcome. And I just started crying. I felt kind of dumb because tears were running down my face and my breathing was doing that shaky thing. I was standing there with my arms up in the air crying out to God with my tears and my voice (which was NOT in tune)... and I felt so broken. God reminded me where I came from. He reminded me I am not done healing. And then He held me. If anyone had physically touched me right then, I am pretty sure I would have totally broken down. Like sobbing uncontrollably.
Tonight was one of the best times of worship I have ever had. I can honestly say I was not worried about what other people were saying about me or the way I looked to the people around me. I know it's not all about the way I feel, but I know I honestly engaged in worship tonight. It was hard to stay focused at first, but I shut my eyes and let the words coming out of my mouth be my prayer and truth I was confident in.
Dear people who read this, please be praying on Sunday evening around 6:30-7. I'm going to be sharing my testimony with my small group. I am terrified. I'm working on giving that fear over to God, but I am scared I won't be able to share. I'm praying like crazy, but thinking about it makes my heart beat fast and my palms sweat. I know God is going to be there while I share... but I still fear judgment and abandonment.
So, please pray I would be calm and not freak out. Pray I would not cry (too much). Pray I would have the right words as well.
Especially when I switch up the lyrics.
Tonight instead of singing
Yeah He loves us
Oh how He loves us
Oh how He loves us
Yeah You love me
Oh how You love me
Oh how You love me
As I sang I became overcome. And I just started crying. I felt kind of dumb because tears were running down my face and my breathing was doing that shaky thing. I was standing there with my arms up in the air crying out to God with my tears and my voice (which was NOT in tune)... and I felt so broken. God reminded me where I came from. He reminded me I am not done healing. And then He held me. If anyone had physically touched me right then, I am pretty sure I would have totally broken down. Like sobbing uncontrollably.
Tonight was one of the best times of worship I have ever had. I can honestly say I was not worried about what other people were saying about me or the way I looked to the people around me. I know it's not all about the way I feel, but I know I honestly engaged in worship tonight. It was hard to stay focused at first, but I shut my eyes and let the words coming out of my mouth be my prayer and truth I was confident in.
Dear people who read this, please be praying on Sunday evening around 6:30-7. I'm going to be sharing my testimony with my small group. I am terrified. I'm working on giving that fear over to God, but I am scared I won't be able to share. I'm praying like crazy, but thinking about it makes my heart beat fast and my palms sweat. I know God is going to be there while I share... but I still fear judgment and abandonment.
So, please pray I would be calm and not freak out. Pray I would not cry (too much). Pray I would have the right words as well.
Change
I wrote this today in Creative Writing. Most of the time, I hate poems, but this one was following a certain pattern.
I was a lost and angry sinner
I remember the loneliness and loud music
I heard "You need to get it together" "Clearly, you aren't a Christian"
I saw disappointment, tears, and failing tests, all because of me
I worried my parents thought I was crazy and were going to send me away with one more mistake
I thought no light could illuminate the darkness I saw.
But, I wanted to change
I was buried by secrets, lies, and shame
I thought no one could love me
I needed someone to take my hand, look me in the eye, and promise me hope was just behind the clouds
I forgave my parents for the misunderstandings and my peers for taunts and jokes.
Now I have changed
I still look for grace when my past looks like my future
I choose vulnerability and transparency instead of secrets and shame
I dream of a plain white house teaching freedom and healing with liberal doses of paint, fabric, and markers
I hope to offer others hope in Christ
I predict overflowing joy and a will to share stories
I know I have been redeemed
I have changed.
I was a lost and angry sinner
I remember the loneliness and loud music
I heard "You need to get it together" "Clearly, you aren't a Christian"
I saw disappointment, tears, and failing tests, all because of me
I worried my parents thought I was crazy and were going to send me away with one more mistake
I thought no light could illuminate the darkness I saw.
But, I wanted to change
I was buried by secrets, lies, and shame
I thought no one could love me
I needed someone to take my hand, look me in the eye, and promise me hope was just behind the clouds
I forgave my parents for the misunderstandings and my peers for taunts and jokes.
Now I have changed
I still look for grace when my past looks like my future
I choose vulnerability and transparency instead of secrets and shame
I dream of a plain white house teaching freedom and healing with liberal doses of paint, fabric, and markers
I hope to offer others hope in Christ
I predict overflowing joy and a will to share stories
I know I have been redeemed
I have changed.
Monday, March 7, 2011
Loneliness vs. Being alone
"Loneliness is different than being alone."
- Fop, remedy.fm
Many of us spend time alone. Personally, I enjoy having time alone. It lets me recharge and calm myself. And when I really need a good, long time with God, I get away.
But loneliness is different than just being alone.
People who struggle with loneliness feel alone even in big crowds. They can be with 100 people, yet still feel like they are the only person in the room.
I have felt this way. It's real. And it's not fun. Any time I went any where I noticed how I didn't really seem to belong to anyone.
My generation is the most "connected" generation. We text. We send pictures. We send emails. We spend hours on Facebook. Because of how much we seem to communicate, it is logical that we would have the most meaningful and deep relationships. I mean, we are constantly talking to people and sharing our opinions, right? Yet the numbers of suicides, attempted suicides, those struggling with depression, and the rates of self-harm still rise. How can this be happening?
Constant communication isn't always good. Meaningful, deep relationships cannot be built when there is some sort of device in between two people. It is much easier to share when two people are typing instead of speaking to each other. It's much easier to be rude or mean when I don't see the look on a person's face when I hurt them. I can have thousands of conversations over the Internet about everything from A to Z, but the sum of them will not mean as much to me as one conversation with a person who is fully focused on our conversation. My generation has an incredible access to communication, but we need to be sure that our relationships are real when we are with people.
The breakdown of family has also been a big issue. If I was to ask someone about their struggle with loneliness or depression, I am sure that one of the reasons they would pinpoint would come from some sort of relationship with their parents. A dysfunctional family creates wounds that don't easily go away. A child needs love and affirmation from both parents. When a parent is physically or emotionally absent, the child is not always going to receive the examples and care that they need. Some single-parent households produce kids who do not struggle with the "unspokens" of our society, but I would venture to say that many do.
Loneliness is something that our society seems to ignore. It needs to be addressed. But not with more video games or more texting. It needs to be addressed with kindness and love. A smile to a lonely person can mean the world. Looking at them and speaking to them like they are a legitimate human being can help them rise up from the trap of loneliness. Jesus called us to care for the poor. The lonely and depressed are poor in spirit. We must hold out our hands and help them.
(Do struggle with loneliness? Do you need someone to talk to? Groundwire.net allows you to talk to a caring adult who will pray for you and try to help you. There are many call centers you can contact if you need a physical voice. You are not alone. I pray that you would find the things you lack in Christ instead of people. Hold on, God has not let go of you.)
I found out about Remedy.fm last night. I have already listened to three past The Cure shows. Dude, they are pretty awesome. They do their research. Do you want biblical information on a topic? Search "remedy.fm the cure" in the search box on iTunes. They have talked about many, many things.
- Fop, remedy.fm
Many of us spend time alone. Personally, I enjoy having time alone. It lets me recharge and calm myself. And when I really need a good, long time with God, I get away.
But loneliness is different than just being alone.
People who struggle with loneliness feel alone even in big crowds. They can be with 100 people, yet still feel like they are the only person in the room.
I have felt this way. It's real. And it's not fun. Any time I went any where I noticed how I didn't really seem to belong to anyone.
My generation is the most "connected" generation. We text. We send pictures. We send emails. We spend hours on Facebook. Because of how much we seem to communicate, it is logical that we would have the most meaningful and deep relationships. I mean, we are constantly talking to people and sharing our opinions, right? Yet the numbers of suicides, attempted suicides, those struggling with depression, and the rates of self-harm still rise. How can this be happening?
Constant communication isn't always good. Meaningful, deep relationships cannot be built when there is some sort of device in between two people. It is much easier to share when two people are typing instead of speaking to each other. It's much easier to be rude or mean when I don't see the look on a person's face when I hurt them. I can have thousands of conversations over the Internet about everything from A to Z, but the sum of them will not mean as much to me as one conversation with a person who is fully focused on our conversation. My generation has an incredible access to communication, but we need to be sure that our relationships are real when we are with people.
The breakdown of family has also been a big issue. If I was to ask someone about their struggle with loneliness or depression, I am sure that one of the reasons they would pinpoint would come from some sort of relationship with their parents. A dysfunctional family creates wounds that don't easily go away. A child needs love and affirmation from both parents. When a parent is physically or emotionally absent, the child is not always going to receive the examples and care that they need. Some single-parent households produce kids who do not struggle with the "unspokens" of our society, but I would venture to say that many do.
Loneliness is something that our society seems to ignore. It needs to be addressed. But not with more video games or more texting. It needs to be addressed with kindness and love. A smile to a lonely person can mean the world. Looking at them and speaking to them like they are a legitimate human being can help them rise up from the trap of loneliness. Jesus called us to care for the poor. The lonely and depressed are poor in spirit. We must hold out our hands and help them.
(Do struggle with loneliness? Do you need someone to talk to? Groundwire.net allows you to talk to a caring adult who will pray for you and try to help you. There are many call centers you can contact if you need a physical voice. You are not alone. I pray that you would find the things you lack in Christ instead of people. Hold on, God has not let go of you.)
I found out about Remedy.fm last night. I have already listened to three past The Cure shows. Dude, they are pretty awesome. They do their research. Do you want biblical information on a topic? Search "remedy.fm the cure" in the search box on iTunes. They have talked about many, many things.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Masks
I wrote this in my Creative Writing journal. It's a rough draft, so I'm sorry about flow issues.
I stand on foot bridge suspended over a swollen river. I stand against the wooden rail and watch while the sun sets over the thick forest.
The sky is bathed in a swirl of yellow, pink, and red. Vaporous remnants of the afternoon's thunderstorm swim lazily westward.
Unlike other evenings, I did not come here just to watch the sun set.
I reach into the bag slung across my chest and pull out the reason.
The object feels like an old friend. It even smiles up at me with a perfect, painted mouth. All the things people have expected me to be stand accusingly in black letters on the smooth white surface.
Perfect
A+
Beautiful
Well-adjusted
Friendly
I stand on foot bridge suspended over a swollen river. I stand against the wooden rail and watch while the sun sets over the thick forest.
The sky is bathed in a swirl of yellow, pink, and red. Vaporous remnants of the afternoon's thunderstorm swim lazily westward.
Unlike other evenings, I did not come here just to watch the sun set.
I reach into the bag slung across my chest and pull out the reason.
The object feels like an old friend. It even smiles up at me with a perfect, painted mouth. All the things people have expected me to be stand accusingly in black letters on the smooth white surface.
Perfect
A+
Beautiful
Well-adjusted
Friendly
It sits perfectly on my face when I put it on. The upturned smile covers my own downcast one. I feel complete with it there on my face, much like a child who carries a blankie.
I remove it, feeling like a part of me is lost, and watch the sun saunter below the horizon.
I inspect the item one final time.
I take a deep breath and hold it out over the muddy water.
I close my eyes.
I breathe again.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
And... I let go.
I open my eyes in time to watch it hit the surface, dunk below, then float. As it drifts away I imagine it floating out to sea and settling in a trench or being found by an artist who repurposes it.
I watch it float off and feel a little lost. Who am I without that?
I turn and walk away. That isn't me. Me is the person standing on the bridge. Me is the real person, not the pretend.
Friday, March 4, 2011
Fear.
I'm going to be honest, here.
I'm afraid of the dark.
I don't mean like "Ah! It's dark out! Oh no!"
I mean like, absolutely terrified of even opening an outside door.
I can't even walk to the end of my driveway to leave the trash on the curb after the sun sets.
But tonight, I challenged my fear.
I walked home from my neighbor's two houses down.
You might think it's not a big deal, but I struggled to walk calmly up the wet street with only my keychain flashlight for protection. Fear consumed me. What was behind me? Was that a shadow a mailbox or a person? I forced myself to walk at a normal pace, even though everything in me told me to run for it.
I was terrified. But I made it to my safe, warm, locked house.
I marvel at the people who can just stand there in the night and still have a steady heartbeat.
I'm afraid of the dark.
I don't mean like "Ah! It's dark out! Oh no!"
I mean like, absolutely terrified of even opening an outside door.
I can't even walk to the end of my driveway to leave the trash on the curb after the sun sets.
But tonight, I challenged my fear.
I walked home from my neighbor's two houses down.
You might think it's not a big deal, but I struggled to walk calmly up the wet street with only my keychain flashlight for protection. Fear consumed me. What was behind me? Was that a shadow a mailbox or a person? I forced myself to walk at a normal pace, even though everything in me told me to run for it.
I was terrified. But I made it to my safe, warm, locked house.
I marvel at the people who can just stand there in the night and still have a steady heartbeat.
Uncharted territory.
Today I had two hours after school where I had nothing to do because Zack had practice and weightlifting for softball was canceled, so I pulled out my journal and started to write. After an hour, my hand had a huge cramp in it and my elbows hurt from propping myself up on the cold, hard floor. And, I had to pee. So, I took a quick bathroom break and then started flipping through my journal.
I am thirteen pages from having no room left. It is rather bittersweet... but fitting at the same time... See, I am in uncharted territory.
This summer was not a great summer for me. It was a time full of doubts, questions, and misunderstandings. I was angry at God many times. At one point on a missions-oriented trip I sat at the foot of a cross and basically told God that I didn't like Him anymore and I didn't believe He could do anything for me. The scariest part? I don't remember much of that happening. Yes, I remember a rough summer where I wrestled with the idea of freedom and what that means. I also remember laying in bed feeling incredibly inadequate, worthless, and inferior. I just hadn't remembered going through so many questions.
But... I don't want to take that summer back. Because of those questions and doubts, I now know more about God than I ever knew.
I am in uncharted territory because I have never given over my entire self to God. I have been on a journey these last eight months to finally give up my past. I read over and over in my own handwriting how the past seemed safer and easier, but I know that the past is full of pain that I do not want to experience again. Today I handed it to God. Sharing my testimony next Saturday (it was moved... :( frustrated) will also be a step in forever closing that door.
But not closing it so that I forget about it. I will never forget the things God has freed me from. It isn't an option. Those things have shaped me. Because I am alive in Christ, though, those things no longer hold onto me.
I am in uncharted territory. Please pray with me as I seek God's will and live in freedom. Pray with me as I surrender with every sunrise. Please pray as I close this journal and open my new one.
Which, fittingly, has a verse on the front:
I am thirteen pages from having no room left. It is rather bittersweet... but fitting at the same time... See, I am in uncharted territory.
This summer was not a great summer for me. It was a time full of doubts, questions, and misunderstandings. I was angry at God many times. At one point on a missions-oriented trip I sat at the foot of a cross and basically told God that I didn't like Him anymore and I didn't believe He could do anything for me. The scariest part? I don't remember much of that happening. Yes, I remember a rough summer where I wrestled with the idea of freedom and what that means. I also remember laying in bed feeling incredibly inadequate, worthless, and inferior. I just hadn't remembered going through so many questions.
But... I don't want to take that summer back. Because of those questions and doubts, I now know more about God than I ever knew.
I am in uncharted territory because I have never given over my entire self to God. I have been on a journey these last eight months to finally give up my past. I read over and over in my own handwriting how the past seemed safer and easier, but I know that the past is full of pain that I do not want to experience again. Today I handed it to God. Sharing my testimony next Saturday (it was moved... :( frustrated) will also be a step in forever closing that door.
But not closing it so that I forget about it. I will never forget the things God has freed me from. It isn't an option. Those things have shaped me. Because I am alive in Christ, though, those things no longer hold onto me.
I am in uncharted territory. Please pray with me as I seek God's will and live in freedom. Pray with me as I surrender with every sunrise. Please pray as I close this journal and open my new one.
Which, fittingly, has a verse on the front:
"I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me."
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Short stories are my favorite!
(NOT!)
I am taking Creative Writing this semester. The first month was good. The second month was pretty good, too. But now we are writing a fictional short story. The rough draft is due tomorrow. And I hate my main character. And I have no idea where the story can possibly end.
I changed my entire story last week. I would love to change it again, but that would mean staying up all night writing a new story...
I suppose I will stick with this one.
While I absolutely hate this, I want to do another for class. Perhaps about something that I am more familiar with?
This one is about a woman getting left at the altar. I have never been married. Or left at the altar.
And where could this story end?
I wish it would just write itself... Like life seems to do.
Life is like a novel. It just has lots of writers that fight with each other over everything.
I am taking Creative Writing this semester. The first month was good. The second month was pretty good, too. But now we are writing a fictional short story. The rough draft is due tomorrow. And I hate my main character. And I have no idea where the story can possibly end.
I changed my entire story last week. I would love to change it again, but that would mean staying up all night writing a new story...
I suppose I will stick with this one.
While I absolutely hate this, I want to do another for class. Perhaps about something that I am more familiar with?
This one is about a woman getting left at the altar. I have never been married. Or left at the altar.
And where could this story end?
I wish it would just write itself... Like life seems to do.
Life is like a novel. It just has lots of writers that fight with each other over everything.
Oh, the epicness.
I love music. I listen to almost every kind (except country and rap.). Some days, I listen to only wordless music. Today feels like one of those days... so here is one of my favorites. My orchestra director tried to find music for it, but she was unsuccessful. (I was really sad... really, really sad.)
This version is really cool, too. But then again, I like electric guitars. :)
This version is really cool, too. But then again, I like electric guitars. :)
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Just one message...
My wonderful, beautiful Wednesday just shattered into a thousand pieces, like a perfect porcelain plate against concrete. How is it that a few sentences can destroy my day?
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
A good night's sleep
I wrote my testimony last night.
I cried only once.
It wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be.
Last night God gave me peace (thanks Grace!).
I slept like I haven't in a very long time.
Today I give my best friends a copy.
Today I trust God more than I ever have.
I cried only once.
It wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be.
Last night God gave me peace (thanks Grace!).
I slept like I haven't in a very long time.
Today I give my best friends a copy.
Today I trust God more than I ever have.
Monday, February 28, 2011
A thunderstorm of peace.
Last night we had our first thunderstorm. It was beautiful. Absolutely gorgeous. As the rain tapped on my window and the thunder applauded the lighting, I had to suppress my laughter. I was just filled with this feeling of hope and freedom as I read through my old journal full of hate and a darkness.
And as I was sitting here at my computer looking for pictures for a nearly wordless Creative Writing project one of my friends (who lives in NC) posted on my wall.
I almost started crying. Right here, onto my keyboard. God spoke to her, He had to have. That was exactly what I needed to hear.
Tonight, I am forcing myself to put pen to paper and write this thing. I might cry a few times, but that's alright. The other girls in my small group have been honest. And I need to work on this honesty thing. I need to be transparent.
God, give me the peace and freedom to write this. I am so afraid that other people won't understand. When I hand a certain person the finished copy, help her understand. My story feels ugly and dirty, but it leads to You. You are the One who wrote the story, and You see beauty in it. I will not be ashamed of the things You have done.
Here is a song that I think of and sing when the rain comes down (literal or figurative).
(Please, watch/listen to it. It's only a few minutes. Maybe God will speak to your heart.)
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Remembering the Past
I am sharing my testimony with my small group on Saturday. Because of this, I am reading through my old journals. I don't remember writing most of these things. Some days are a little less blurry than others, but from mid-2005 to mid-2009, I remember very little.
On February 23, 2009, I wrote this at the close of an entry:
"Right now I have too many scars, too much pain inside, too much anger, and too little faith."
Two years later, I can say that I no longer see that sentence as true. I can now identify that as a blatant lie.
Some of you readers may wonder if I would go back and do things differently with the knowledge I have now. I wrote a quickwrite on this for English last semester, and the answer anytime anyone asks is always no. Clearly, I went through certain periods of pain for a reason. A reason that was unknown to me at the time, but better known now. Without my experience, I would not be as equipped for my chosen profession.
Please, please pray for me as I prepare and share my testimony this week. Several of my close friends will be receiving a copy because they do not know my story.
My story is not just my own. It is God's.
On February 23, 2009, I wrote this at the close of an entry:
"Right now I have too many scars, too much pain inside, too much anger, and too little faith."
Two years later, I can say that I no longer see that sentence as true. I can now identify that as a blatant lie.
Some of you readers may wonder if I would go back and do things differently with the knowledge I have now. I wrote a quickwrite on this for English last semester, and the answer anytime anyone asks is always no. Clearly, I went through certain periods of pain for a reason. A reason that was unknown to me at the time, but better known now. Without my experience, I would not be as equipped for my chosen profession.
Please, please pray for me as I prepare and share my testimony this week. Several of my close friends will be receiving a copy because they do not know my story.
My story is not just my own. It is God's.
A First
Tomorrow I attend my first funeral. "Wait," you may say, "You are seventeen and you have never been to a funeral before?" No. I haven't. I haven't needed too.
Tomorrow I attend the funeral for my principal's husband. I am going with my fellow students to support our principal. What would the point of a Christian school be without exemplifying the church?
What a wonderful Monday, eh?
Tomorrow I attend the funeral for my principal's husband. I am going with my fellow students to support our principal. What would the point of a Christian school be without exemplifying the church?
What a wonderful Monday, eh?
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Bad Days...
Have you ever had one of those really bad days? Or one of those okay days, that went horribly wrong? Thursday was like that.
I'll be honest, I kind of like school. I like it when I understand what is going on. I like it when I like what we are doing, too. But I missed Pre-calculus because of a Psychology exam (there is a LOT of hate right there. >:( ). But I had learned how to do graphing inequalities before, so I figured I could do it. Only, when I got to the homework I realized I wasn't sure how to shade, I looked in the examples in my book and it was unclear, so I just jumped in with what I thought I knew. Not smart. I ended up in tears redrawing the same graph six times. And then I threw my book across the room. I was kind of freaked out that it took that little of frustration to make me so angry. The stress of other things (like a Bible project and a short story that I have to write... in which I detest every character) have been getting to me lately... The Bible project is now over (Hypostatic Union, I am so glad that Jesus was fully God and fully man, but I am SICK of researching it and teaching people about you.), but the short story is due next week. Not too bad, right? It would be if I didn't suck at writing long fiction.
Page long descriptions of a moment or conversation are okay, but ten pages of a story that makes sense? No way. (Why did I take Creative Writing?) After a page I hate my characters, my writing style, and the way I make my k's. I think my main character is too proud or just plain dumb. I feel like my description sounds dumb. Am I being too critical of myself? Sharing my work is hard. I hate when people pick it apart and point out grammatical flaws (like little ones. I like it when someone fixes a big mistake!) and argue with me over my word choice. I leave some sentences without description for REASONS! What ever happened to leaving out some things for suspense?
I have four journal entries and at least two pages of my story to write tonight. This is awesome. /endsarcasm
So, to sum up:
- Crying over Pre-calculus homework is lame.
- Short stories are lame, too.
I'll be honest, I kind of like school. I like it when I understand what is going on. I like it when I like what we are doing, too. But I missed Pre-calculus because of a Psychology exam (there is a LOT of hate right there. >:( ). But I had learned how to do graphing inequalities before, so I figured I could do it. Only, when I got to the homework I realized I wasn't sure how to shade, I looked in the examples in my book and it was unclear, so I just jumped in with what I thought I knew. Not smart. I ended up in tears redrawing the same graph six times. And then I threw my book across the room. I was kind of freaked out that it took that little of frustration to make me so angry. The stress of other things (like a Bible project and a short story that I have to write... in which I detest every character) have been getting to me lately... The Bible project is now over (Hypostatic Union, I am so glad that Jesus was fully God and fully man, but I am SICK of researching it and teaching people about you.), but the short story is due next week. Not too bad, right? It would be if I didn't suck at writing long fiction.
Page long descriptions of a moment or conversation are okay, but ten pages of a story that makes sense? No way. (Why did I take Creative Writing?) After a page I hate my characters, my writing style, and the way I make my k's. I think my main character is too proud or just plain dumb. I feel like my description sounds dumb. Am I being too critical of myself? Sharing my work is hard. I hate when people pick it apart and point out grammatical flaws (like little ones. I like it when someone fixes a big mistake!) and argue with me over my word choice. I leave some sentences without description for REASONS! What ever happened to leaving out some things for suspense?
I have four journal entries and at least two pages of my story to write tonight. This is awesome. /endsarcasm
So, to sum up:
- Crying over Pre-calculus homework is lame.
- Short stories are lame, too.
60 Days of Beauty? Ooops...
So... It seems I am unable to finish a simple two-month blogging spree. Oops.
In order to remedy this, I have a list of some more things I find beautiful.
17. The ecstatic greetings of my dogs.
18. Homemade bread.
19. Grass waving in the summer wind.
20. Pianos.
21. Sunrises.
22. Bird song.
23. A brand new journal.
24. Daddies hugging their children.
25. Fire.
26. Worship.
27. People. (Okay, this is only sometimes. I have days where I absolutely can't stand people. But in general, I find them beautiful.)
28. Dancing.
29. Beaches.
30. Laughter.
31. Tears.
32. Guitars. (I am incredibly jealous of those who can play...)
33. Creativity.
34. The Connection Band. (This is the band that plays in the alternate service at my church. Just today I mentioned to my mom that one of their songs would always remind me of home. In fact, I see myself playing their music in my big white house with rainbow doors. :) )
35. Dreaming. (While asleep and the dreams for the future.)
36. Getting things done.
37. Sharing.
38. AGC Baby Center.
39. Confidence.
40. My small group.
41. Breaking the chains.
42. Learning to run. (I say "learning" because that's EXACTLY what it's like.)
43. Hillsong United. (They are my designated group for worship playlists.)
44. Photography.
45. Sunsets.
46. Clouds.
47. Rain on a summer afternoon.
48. Letting go and letting God.
49. Stories.
50. Love.
51. Hope.
52. Rescue.
53. Paint and a clean canvas.
54. Learning to speak Spanish.
55. Wishing on dandelions.
56. Stars. (Especially the ones in Kenya.)
57. Summertime.
58. The tree in my backyard. (Except when I have to mow around it.)
59. Knowing I am not alone.
60. My house. (But not my current house. The house I am talking about is called "Rescate". Back in December, God gave me a picture that blew me away. A simple house with a large porch and lots of windows. It was surrounded by trees. And the idea of peace surrounded the building. And I knew what it was instantly. It's what I've wanted to do for the past two years. It's there to help people. I'm going to teach people freedom, hope, and love. I'm going to teach them how to keep going and how to fight. It's the house where I will meet with God in my sunny kitchen and laugh with those who have not laughed. It's my house with many colors of paint and a large room for the freedom of expression through art. It's bright and sunny all the time because of the many windows. During the summer, the windows are open to let in the air. That's my house. That's my dream. That's where I want to be in ten years.)
Whew. That was a long list... and a very vulnerable list.
In order to remedy this, I have a list of some more things I find beautiful.
17. The ecstatic greetings of my dogs.
18. Homemade bread.
19. Grass waving in the summer wind.
20. Pianos.
21. Sunrises.
22. Bird song.
23. A brand new journal.
24. Daddies hugging their children.
25. Fire.
26. Worship.
27. People. (Okay, this is only sometimes. I have days where I absolutely can't stand people. But in general, I find them beautiful.)
28. Dancing.
29. Beaches.
30. Laughter.
31. Tears.
32. Guitars. (I am incredibly jealous of those who can play...)
33. Creativity.
34. The Connection Band. (This is the band that plays in the alternate service at my church. Just today I mentioned to my mom that one of their songs would always remind me of home. In fact, I see myself playing their music in my big white house with rainbow doors. :) )
35. Dreaming. (While asleep and the dreams for the future.)
36. Getting things done.
37. Sharing.
38. AGC Baby Center.
39. Confidence.
40. My small group.
41. Breaking the chains.
42. Learning to run. (I say "learning" because that's EXACTLY what it's like.)
43. Hillsong United. (They are my designated group for worship playlists.)
44. Photography.
45. Sunsets.
46. Clouds.
47. Rain on a summer afternoon.
48. Letting go and letting God.
49. Stories.
50. Love.
51. Hope.
52. Rescue.
53. Paint and a clean canvas.
54. Learning to speak Spanish.
55. Wishing on dandelions.
56. Stars. (Especially the ones in Kenya.)
57. Summertime.
58. The tree in my backyard. (Except when I have to mow around it.)
59. Knowing I am not alone.
60. My house. (But not my current house. The house I am talking about is called "Rescate". Back in December, God gave me a picture that blew me away. A simple house with a large porch and lots of windows. It was surrounded by trees. And the idea of peace surrounded the building. And I knew what it was instantly. It's what I've wanted to do for the past two years. It's there to help people. I'm going to teach people freedom, hope, and love. I'm going to teach them how to keep going and how to fight. It's the house where I will meet with God in my sunny kitchen and laugh with those who have not laughed. It's my house with many colors of paint and a large room for the freedom of expression through art. It's bright and sunny all the time because of the many windows. During the summer, the windows are open to let in the air. That's my house. That's my dream. That's where I want to be in ten years.)
Whew. That was a long list... and a very vulnerable list.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Love is...
Love is:
- A friend date at Taco Bell.
- A warm dog on a cold day.
- When someone looks into your eyes to be sure you are okay.
- Roses for no reason.
- A father buying his daughter flowers for Valentine's Day.
- A mother kissing her tired child's forehead.
- A six year old sharing his cookie with the little boy who has no snack.
- Letting your sister wear your shirt.
- A little girl tryin out her mom's lipstick.
- Being late to work because you stopped to help the person stranded on the side of a busy road.
- Listening even when someone stumbles over their words.
- Waiting.
- A hug without words.
- Letting him go.
- A candlelight dinner with piano recordings in the background.
- Holding hands even though your fingers are freezing.
- Trusting
- Giggling about the dumb things we used to do.
- Watching Pride and Prejudice with her even though you hate it.
- Never giving up your fight.
- A friend date at Taco Bell.
- A warm dog on a cold day.
- When someone looks into your eyes to be sure you are okay.
- Roses for no reason.
- A father buying his daughter flowers for Valentine's Day.
- A mother kissing her tired child's forehead.
- A six year old sharing his cookie with the little boy who has no snack.
- Letting your sister wear your shirt.
- A little girl tryin out her mom's lipstick.
- Being late to work because you stopped to help the person stranded on the side of a busy road.
- Listening even when someone stumbles over their words.
- Waiting.
- A hug without words.
- Letting him go.
- A candlelight dinner with piano recordings in the background.
- Holding hands even though your fingers are freezing.
- Trusting
- Giggling about the dumb things we used to do.
- Watching Pride and Prejudice with her even though you hate it.
- Never giving up your fight.
A Dream
I have this dream. It's a big dream. It's a dream full of freedom and love. It's a dream of shoving it in the world's face when I show others how to see their own beauty. It's a messy dream full of ink, paint, chalk, fabric, and yarn. It's a dream of healing. I want my whole life to be showing people art, love, beauty, freedom, and healing. That's my dream. In a big old house with a wrap-around porch and rainbow doors, that's where healing will be. Outside in the quiet, welcoming forest, that's where freedom will be.
The huge-ness of this dream scares me, but I know I can do it. I will do it.
The huge-ness of this dream scares me, but I know I can do it. I will do it.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
A Very Personal Shirt
(picture heavy)
We have all seen those really cool shirts in stores that have cool prints on them or whatever, but are super expensive, or shirts that we want but don't want to buy online because we don't have a card, or we love the print, but hate the color of the shirt or the paint. So, I'm going to teach you how to make your own printed shirt!
- Acrylic craft paint (those little bottles that come in hundreds of colors. I used black and white because that is what I had on hand, but you can use whatever colors your heart desires.)
- Access to Word or similar program (to make your stencil)
- X-Acto knife or other craft knife (to cut out your stencil)
- Self-healing cutting board (so you don't kill your table)
- Newspaper (to cover surface and to put inside shirt)
- Extra paper
- Paint brush or sponge
- Paper plate to put paint on
-Tape
Instructions!
First, decide what you want to write. I chose a quote from the organization TWLOHA (here).
Now, if you suck at drawing big letters free hand (like me), get on your computer and pull up Microsoft Word (or any similar program). I wanted the words in all caps and each on their own line. (no pictures of this, sorry) If you are using an image (which will be MUCH harder if it has lots of little pieces) paste that into a Word document and size it, then print it out. Remember that your image can't really be bigger that a piece of paper is wide. (I set my paper to landscape and printed each word separately. But it can't be any wider than about 10.5" without a bigger piece of paper than regular copy paper) Once you have chosen font and size, print it out (make your letters LIGHT gray or print it as a draft if your printer has that option. This is to save ink.).
Lay out your shirt on a table bigger than mine. I just used the small round table we had in the basement because there was stuff on the kitchen table that I didn't want to deal with (it wasn't mine). Get out EVERYTHING you need (or think you will need. I probably spent more time searching for things than actually painting).
See, I don't have everything I need. (iPod touch is optional) So, go run and get everything you need. Back yet? Okay. Now grab you cutting board and x-Acto knife.
Now you can see what I mean by the way I printed it. I changed the margins so that I could print as far to the edge as possible. (Font was Candara or something like that. The letters were size 300 or so.) Grab your first sheet and grab an x-Acto knife. I used the red handled one because it was easier to hold onto and not as heavy. CAREFULLY cut out the letters. Don't worry if parts stick up. We will tape those down.
Go back and smooth out the edges. It doesn't matter if the inner letter is mangled, you just want the stencil to be smooth. Any imperfections will show up on your shirt.
Continue until your entire stencil is cut out. Now go on to your others. (If you have more)
Uh-oh! What do I do about the "O"? It has an inside? Just cut it out.
And set it aside (in a safe place, you don't want to lose it!), then cut the gray part out...
This stencil is sticking up all over the place, but we will tape it all down.
Go on to your last stencil. I wanted a heart instead of my "O", but I went ahead and printed it with an "O" so that I knew where it needed to be. I cut out the heart of wanted, then traced it over the "O" and cut it out.
You will notice that I have two stencils on that page to save paper. You can do this, you just want to be sure there is enough space to cut them apart.
See the heart? It looks wonky, but it turned out great. Cut off any excess on the stencils (leaving about a half inch so that you don't get paint off the stencil) and set aside the knives and cutting board.
I grabbed two sections of newspaper and stuck them inside, but then noticed that they made an icky crease line. So I took them out and folded the opposite way to get rid of the crease.
See? It messed up my stencils.
Decide where you want the image or words to be. (I used the t-shirt I had on to compare) and lay out the first stencil. ((In my picture, I already painted the first stencil to get a feel for it.))
Take your tape and make it sticky on both sides by folding it and overlapping it on itself. Don't be skimpy! You want nice crisp lines, and that happens by having a flat stencil. Center it (or place it wherever it should go) and press it flat. Carefully tape the sides flat with tape.
Away from your shirt, pour your paint onto your paper plate. (If you are mixing colors, make sure to make PLENTY of color!) Use your brush or sponge to grab some paint and dab it over the stencil. Be careful not to get it off the paper on the outside. I used two coats because my paint was kind of opaque. (Sorry, no pictures!) Let it sit for a few seconds, then take off the outside tape and carefully(!) pull up the stencil. Continue to do this.
But remember our "O"? What do we do!?
Stick some tape on the backside...
And then stick it where it goes!
Yay! Pretty! (You can see where I tried to cover up my boo boos. Bad idea. I had to mix paint several times to get it the right color, then I had to go over it with lighter paint because it dried darker... if they aren't too noticeable, just leave them. (Or use another stencil and make a star or something).
If you still have opaque areas, take a small brush and take a little bit of paint and go over that area. (carefully!)
:)
I added some freehand writing to the bottom hem. This is totally optional, but I wanted the organization's name on it.
Leave to dry overnight. DO NOT flip it over to work on the back until the paint is more than completely dry. My paint said it would dry in a half hour, but I would wait at least two. (Or overnight to be safe)
Go wash out your brushes so they won't get nasty. Now. You don't want gross, crinkly brushes (or sponges), do you?
No pics of me wearing it yet, I'm probably going to put some words on the back, I just haven't decided what yet.
Any questions? Leave them in the comments. (: Good luck!
We have all seen those really cool shirts in stores that have cool prints on them or whatever, but are super expensive, or shirts that we want but don't want to buy online because we don't have a card, or we love the print, but hate the color of the shirt or the paint. So, I'm going to teach you how to make your own printed shirt!
Materials needed:
- Plain t-shirt (I bought mine from Hobby Lobby for three or four dollars)- Acrylic craft paint (those little bottles that come in hundreds of colors. I used black and white because that is what I had on hand, but you can use whatever colors your heart desires.)
- Access to Word or similar program (to make your stencil)
- X-Acto knife or other craft knife (to cut out your stencil)
- Self-healing cutting board (so you don't kill your table)
- Newspaper (to cover surface and to put inside shirt)
- Extra paper
- Paint brush or sponge
- Paper plate to put paint on
-Tape
Instructions!
First, decide what you want to write. I chose a quote from the organization TWLOHA (here).
Now, if you suck at drawing big letters free hand (like me), get on your computer and pull up Microsoft Word (or any similar program). I wanted the words in all caps and each on their own line. (no pictures of this, sorry) If you are using an image (which will be MUCH harder if it has lots of little pieces) paste that into a Word document and size it, then print it out. Remember that your image can't really be bigger that a piece of paper is wide. (I set my paper to landscape and printed each word separately. But it can't be any wider than about 10.5" without a bigger piece of paper than regular copy paper) Once you have chosen font and size, print it out (make your letters LIGHT gray or print it as a draft if your printer has that option. This is to save ink.).
Lay out your shirt on a table bigger than mine. I just used the small round table we had in the basement because there was stuff on the kitchen table that I didn't want to deal with (it wasn't mine). Get out EVERYTHING you need (or think you will need. I probably spent more time searching for things than actually painting).
See, I don't have everything I need. (iPod touch is optional) So, go run and get everything you need. Back yet? Okay. Now grab you cutting board and x-Acto knife.
Now you can see what I mean by the way I printed it. I changed the margins so that I could print as far to the edge as possible. (Font was Candara or something like that. The letters were size 300 or so.) Grab your first sheet and grab an x-Acto knife. I used the red handled one because it was easier to hold onto and not as heavy. CAREFULLY cut out the letters. Don't worry if parts stick up. We will tape those down.
Go back and smooth out the edges. It doesn't matter if the inner letter is mangled, you just want the stencil to be smooth. Any imperfections will show up on your shirt.
Continue until your entire stencil is cut out. Now go on to your others. (If you have more)
Uh-oh! What do I do about the "O"? It has an inside? Just cut it out.
And set it aside (in a safe place, you don't want to lose it!), then cut the gray part out...
This stencil is sticking up all over the place, but we will tape it all down.
Go on to your last stencil. I wanted a heart instead of my "O", but I went ahead and printed it with an "O" so that I knew where it needed to be. I cut out the heart of wanted, then traced it over the "O" and cut it out.
You will notice that I have two stencils on that page to save paper. You can do this, you just want to be sure there is enough space to cut them apart.
See the heart? It looks wonky, but it turned out great. Cut off any excess on the stencils (leaving about a half inch so that you don't get paint off the stencil) and set aside the knives and cutting board.
I grabbed two sections of newspaper and stuck them inside, but then noticed that they made an icky crease line. So I took them out and folded the opposite way to get rid of the crease.
See? It messed up my stencils.
Decide where you want the image or words to be. (I used the t-shirt I had on to compare) and lay out the first stencil. ((In my picture, I already painted the first stencil to get a feel for it.))
Take your tape and make it sticky on both sides by folding it and overlapping it on itself. Don't be skimpy! You want nice crisp lines, and that happens by having a flat stencil. Center it (or place it wherever it should go) and press it flat. Carefully tape the sides flat with tape.
Away from your shirt, pour your paint onto your paper plate. (If you are mixing colors, make sure to make PLENTY of color!) Use your brush or sponge to grab some paint and dab it over the stencil. Be careful not to get it off the paper on the outside. I used two coats because my paint was kind of opaque. (Sorry, no pictures!) Let it sit for a few seconds, then take off the outside tape and carefully(!) pull up the stencil. Continue to do this.
But remember our "O"? What do we do!?
Stick some tape on the backside...
And then stick it where it goes!
If you still have opaque areas, take a small brush and take a little bit of paint and go over that area. (carefully!)
:)
Leave to dry overnight. DO NOT flip it over to work on the back until the paint is more than completely dry. My paint said it would dry in a half hour, but I would wait at least two. (Or overnight to be safe)
Go wash out your brushes so they won't get nasty. Now. You don't want gross, crinkly brushes (or sponges), do you?
No pics of me wearing it yet, I'm probably going to put some words on the back, I just haven't decided what yet.
Any questions? Leave them in the comments. (: Good luck!
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