tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-69586768068275282432024-02-08T05:07:44.680-08:00ProcessingThis is a tool for me to try and process whatever the heck is going on in my life. Much of my time is spent deep in thought, but sometimes that just isn't enough for me and I need to write about it.Niahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02018815279265274783noreply@blogger.comBlogger21125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6958676806827528243.post-64128658949263524782009-04-03T16:43:00.000-07:002009-04-03T17:26:39.186-07:00the view from the wrap around porch<span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;">porch swing white<br />property green<br />air warm<br />skies serene<br /><br />messy kitchen<br />wooden floors<br />high ceilings<br />open doors<br /><br />spinning bikes<br />muddy halls<br />pattering feet<br />bouncing balls</span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;">trust in God</span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;">warmth of a man</span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;">sound of guitar</span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;">satisfied clan</span>Niahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02018815279265274783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6958676806827528243.post-6047410256660174142009-03-17T17:03:00.001-07:002009-03-17T17:08:08.535-07:00HopeThis is a poem I wrote where I just write and write and don't think about the words that are forming and don't think about sentence structure and everything deep within me just kind of exposes itself on paper without my forcing it out and trying to put it in poetic and perfect form and instead it is a rambling expression of all the thoughts in my heart, kind of like this sentence.<br /><br />Hope<br /><br />Hello hello you crazy World<br />I've yet to believe<br />you're completely bad<br />I've still some hope<br />for your battered soul<br /><br />Goodbye goodbye Sadness, you fiend<br />How dare you slither<br />and skulk your way<br />into our world<br />Be gone Be gone<br />and never you return<br /><br />We need you no more<br />We tolerate you none<br /><br />Shoo shoo, perish in flames<br />Our crazy world<br />can stand on its own<br />hope-filled feet nowNiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02018815279265274783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6958676806827528243.post-86750149107325922222009-03-16T17:32:00.000-07:002009-03-17T17:18:58.246-07:00With All the Rough EdgesFor most of us, we idealize our lives as a sheet of stainless steel. Smooth, shiny, predictable. We want our life to be smooth, and every day is an attempt to acheive this steel life we dream of. We cringe at dents; we scowl at smudges; we steer clear of sharp edges.<br /><br />In reality, life is a boulder. Bumps and ridges, rough here, smooth there. Color here, more colors there. Unexpected, unpredictable.<br /><br />Our lives are not only boulders, they are mountain ranges. If you look at one little 3" x 3" section of a boulder, all you can see are the bumps and ridges. But if you look up, you can see miles and miles of mountains. You can see how the red of the rocks complements the green of the trees; you can see the sun playing peek-a-boo behind the clouds at the mountain's peak. You can smell life in the grass, the trees, the wildlife.<br /><br />If you try to make a boulder look like steel, you can grind it and sand it and color it and process it in so many ways, and you do nothing but ruin the majesty of the boulder's natural and intended state.<br /><br />I want my life to be a mountain range. People drive for miles to experience the wonders of the mountains. People can get lost in the mountains. The mountains are comforting; the mountains are dangerous; they are spiritual, wanted, admired. People dream of the mountains. People travel across the world to behold the mountains; who would make great sacrifices and travel the world for a piece of steel?<br /><br />I would rather be a boulder than a sheet of stainless steel. I'd rather free fall from the mountain top and crack and chip along the way than be systematically placed in order. When studied for years, a boulder cannot be memorized or predicted. There are crevices in a boulder that may never be noticed or touched unless someone is unwaveringly determined to knowing about them. I'd rather be a boulder with all the indentations and all the rough edges, with all the splotches of color and all the dirt and debris.<br /><br />And aren't the mountains so much more glorious and beautiful and alive than a piece of stainless steel?Niahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02018815279265274783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6958676806827528243.post-13743454056263706482009-02-25T19:12:00.000-08:002009-02-25T20:02:37.734-08:00More on ShoesI wrote about shoes earlier....however, I must retract part of my statement. I recently was going to meet up with a guy, and I gave a little extra thought to what I was going to wear. I assembled my whole outfit complete with accessories, and right before I headed out the door, I slipped on a pair of shoes. I remember thinking, "Ah dang, these shoes aren't exactly perfect for the ensemble I'm going for, but whatever guys don't notice your feet anyway." Later that night, he and I were hanging out and in passing he mentions my shoes with approval.<br /><br />It was oddly nice to be noticed by this guy, and for even my shoes to be noticed. Maybe as women, we want the little things to be noticed and appreciated. Even if it is just a pair of shoes or a new haircut, even if it's that we say a certain phrase often, or that we have quirky little mannerisms when we speak, we just love that someone is interested enough to notice these little things about us.Niahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02018815279265274783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6958676806827528243.post-69469876215627684562009-02-15T23:52:00.000-08:002009-02-16T00:16:37.514-08:00It's hard enoughI can't imagine being divorced. It's hard enough trying to dig deep enough to recover from the pain of a breakup from a boyfriend of 3 months.<br /><br />Crying<br />sleeping in<br />sobbing, crumpled on the floor<br />missing school<br />missing work<br />napping all day<br />tears streaming during forcedly normal conversations<br />not eating<br />not sleeping<br />sleeping too much<br />irregular sleep<br />dangerous thoughts<br />hopelessness<br />fear<br />chest pains<br />foggy brain<br />delayed responses<br />lack of caring<br />irrational emotions at uncalled for times<br /><br />Symptoms of a broken heart. Symptoms of heartache, brought on by a casual dating experience. What must it be like to be a mom of 3 children and your husband doesn't want come home one day or ever again? What must it be like to be a newly wed and your husband decides he wants to take it all back? What must it be like to live as man and wife for 64 years, and you wake up one morning and the man who has been with you and loved you through fire and rain...fell asleep forever? I cannot fathom what that pain is like.Niahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02018815279265274783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6958676806827528243.post-54942178262918724362009-02-15T23:43:00.000-08:002009-02-15T23:52:54.699-08:00emptying me of myselfI think I'm going crazy going crazy<br />sitting here sitting here<br />I'm going crazy sitting here doing nothing<br /><br />Nothing with my heart<br />nothing with my mind<br />nothing with my time<br /><br />I'm going crazy not knowing<br />where to go<br />where to seek<br />where to live this life<br /><br />I'm<br />I'm<br />I'm emptying my mind<br />emptying my life<br />emptying my heart of myself<br /><br />I'm dumping all these dreams<br />desires<br />wants<br />longings<br />dumping them into a pile<br />and sweeping them out the door<br /><br />I don't need them anymore<br />because God has something else in mind<br />He has something else<br />something wonderful<br />something marvelous<br />something I could never dream up<br /><br />All these dreams I have,<br />who do they benefit?<br />Me, selfish me<br />And even then, my dreams aren't that good for me<br /><br />God knows what's good for me<br />And He's got it all in line<br />He's got it all set up<br />So I can stop going crazy<br />going crazy trying to plan out my life<br />Because who do I think I'm kidding?<br />I don't have half as good a plan as God doesNiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02018815279265274783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6958676806827528243.post-6915415380505497822009-02-15T23:21:00.000-08:002009-02-15T23:31:20.479-08:005'4" below your faceWomen care so much about shoes. They care so much about the materials that cover their tiny little feet that walk on the grimy ground.<br /><br />Men don't give a crap. I doubt they ever notice shoes, unless that are thigh-high neon green spike high heels.<br /><br />Shoes are so close to the ground; why would you want to draw attention 5 feet 4 inches below your face? And if a guy does notice your shoes, why would you want to be with a man who stares at the ground? Men already have to bend their heads just to look at women's eyes; why do women want those men to crane their necks even more to check out what is keeping their feet warm? (or, more often, what is unsensibly strapped to the soles of their feet)<br /><br />The obsession with impractical footwear does not make sense, yet an outfit, an attitude, and a statement can be completely altered by the selection of the shoes.Niahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02018815279265274783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6958676806827528243.post-31435706823879338782009-02-15T23:15:00.000-08:002009-02-15T23:21:53.823-08:00Step One: AdmitI shall admit<br />into the night<br />that i am a bit of a mess<br /><br />I shall admit<br />unto the Lord<br />that I am in extreme distress<br /><br />I will admit<br />to myself<br />to you<br />to all and beyond<br />that i am a bit of a messNiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02018815279265274783noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6958676806827528243.post-44715718533500830042008-05-23T12:08:00.000-07:002008-05-23T12:30:56.217-07:00protecting myself<p align="left">I lean against a railing, lightly covered with snow and gaze across the Rocky Mountains. Wrapped in an extra blanket found in the closet of the condo four of my friends and I are staying in, I protect myself from the cold. The mountains...are breathtaking. My mind is blank as my eyes glide over the numerous trees dusted with snow. It seems only slightly odd to me that the scenery before me incorporates snow in May, but I remind myself this is Keystone. A whispy fog blocks my view of the peaks of these mountains, these mountains that thousands of skiiers came to enjoy only weeks before. </p><p align="left">Everything is beautiful. The red colored neighboring condos, the vast sky, and other displays of God's artwork. I see the beauty, I know and understand the beauty...but I don't feel the beauty. I don't feel anything as I drive up to the mountains with the four girls I spent so much time with in high school. I don't feel anything as we check into the condo for a night of celebrating our graduation. I don't feel anything as the evening goes on, as the nightengale quiets and the morninglark chimes in. I feel nothing as we coast back down the mountains, back to our homes in Littleton.</p><p align="left">I realized, and am finally admitting that I know nothing. I know who I am, because God tells me that in His Love Letter to us. But I know nothing more. I do not know His Plan, and I do not know it in the least. Everything I dream of, everything I long for, I do not know if or when I will finally acheive any of it.</p><p align="left">I feel nothing. I know nothing. And I don't really know what to do about that.</p><p align="left">I am raw, I am tired, I feel hopeless, and no, I am not happy. I wrap myself in blankets too often. But I don't protect myself from the wind; I try and protect myself from the unknown. Why can't I just throw this blanket aside and join the billions of other people in this world that admit they know nothing of the future either? Why can't I spread my arms, let the blanket fall off, and raise my hands to God and let Him take over? </p>Niahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02018815279265274783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6958676806827528243.post-83181966786772409252008-03-18T17:47:00.000-07:002008-04-02T22:00:53.923-07:00I am a part of this fieldI sit in this field<br />a part of this field<br />My spirit soars<br />a part of this field.<br /><br />I see the earth stretch before me<br />stretching in the morning light<br />awakening from a warm night.<br /><br />The miles of rustling grass<br />The red in yonder mountains<br />The crisp clouds above<br />All painted for us.<br /><br />I am a part of this scene,<br />I am a part of this picture.<br /><br />I feel God nudging me<br />with the morning breeze.<br />I feel God hugging me<br />with the rising sun.<br />I feel God<br /><br />I know Him<br />I am a part of His picture<br />I am a part of His plan.<br /><br />I am a part of His field<br />I will do as He wishes<br /><br />I am a part of Your field<br />As You wish,<br />It will be done.Niahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02018815279265274783noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6958676806827528243.post-85304150689885969762008-02-28T21:20:00.000-08:002008-02-28T21:28:27.999-08:00NowWhen you think too much about wanting to change the world, you do no more than fret yourself. If you get caught up in how to do something big and important that will make a difference, you just get caught. You cannot sit and fuss over how to make the world a better place. Just live. That’s all it really takes. Just live your God-given life in a God-pleasing way. Your life is not like a river that you float down slowly, uneventfully with nothing ever happening until you reach the one giant waterfall, your one chance to make a giant change. There are whirlpools; there are logs and rocks jutting in the way. There are wild animals; there are fish jumping all around our boat. There is no need to lie back and let the current dully take you to the waterfall where you can finally do some good. There is no need, because things are already happening around you! There are people on the banks that you are passing by. You could help them now if you weren’t too busy waiting for your big limelight moment. Your moment to create change is not once. Your moment is not going to wait for you to reach a specific age, a specific financial state, a specific anything. Help is not specific. You need to sit up in your boat; we all need to sit up in our boats and not waste any more time looking forward to when we can make a difference. For change doesn’t only come with a giant waterfall; it comes with the slightest of tilts with your oar. It comes when we decide it comes. So let's decide upon now.Niahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02018815279265274783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6958676806827528243.post-24646207519434280202008-02-25T16:50:00.000-08:002008-02-25T16:53:06.220-08:00"Mess is the motor of creativity"I realized why I don’t throw anything away. Everything is so beautiful. Everything is too beautiful to throw away. Too enrapturing to say, “Oh, this isn’t worth anything anymore” and dump it in the trash. Every cardboard box, ever trinket found in the street while going on a walk on a warm day, every clipping from a magazine – it’s all beautiful. I can’t bring myself to through away the Chinese fortune I found in my fortune cookie last year – the fortune that gave me hope during a really hard time in my life (it’s now taped to my mirror). My messy bedroom is filled with inspiration. The jumble of hemp on the edge of my dresser reminds me to find time in my schedule to do crafts for other people. A copy of a short story of mine lies on an old vinyl on the floor next to a pile of novels, magazines, and poetry books and encourages me to keep the pen moving and continue to pour onto pieces of paper. A giant collage of magazine pictures and quotes on the back of my door excited me about my future, my career, and the home I will have. My room is messy, my life can be messy, and I like it that way.Niahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02018815279265274783noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6958676806827528243.post-77309809880307882442008-02-07T13:32:00.000-08:002008-02-07T13:36:21.029-08:00Narnia in LittletonI was driving through my neighborhood today. The gutters overflowed with freshly melted snow. Not just a little trickle or a few melted snowflakes gliding down the path, but cold, icy water gushing down the street, spilling over the sides of the gutters moving fast. Fast fast, almost as fast as the water is cold. I was reminded of when Aslan finally returned to Narnia. The wicked queen had cursed the land with a bitter cold winter that trudged on unendingly. Then upon Aslan’s return, the snow melted in gushes. Green jumped out from underneath, as a track star does when the gun signals the start of the race. The freezing streams flowed down the mountainside and the hills. The melted snow rushed along paths and trails eager to release their once imprisoned energy. The arctic wind becomes a crisp but gentle breeze. Spring.<br /><br />I drove through the neighborhood, my wheels being pulled slightly to the left and right by the mushy snow and ice on the roads. I looked at this Narnia in my neighborhood and thought about what is melting in my own life. What is my winter storm that has left me unendingly cold? I have felt these past weeks that something in me is melting. A wonderful, free and excited melting is occurring inside of me! Perhaps it is a newfound form of worship that lets me praise my Aslan in a way I never allowed myself to before. Recognizing God and celebrating every gift He gives to us. Perhaps it is my zeal for all in this life, and acknowledging from where it has come. Whatever is melting in me, all I know is I am falling in love with the spring and the One who brought it about.<br /><br />No one controls the rivers. They flow with a mighty and boundless force. And yet, while they are wild and free, they still flow exactly on the path before them. I have confidence in where I am headed, and even though I cannot see around the river bend, I know that where I am going is full of excitement and passion.Niahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02018815279265274783noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6958676806827528243.post-39657353148448161812008-01-15T13:08:00.000-08:002008-01-15T13:17:33.494-08:00SawdustCarried Bradshaw’s style definitely contrasts that of Aiden. Her high fashion style of boots and sequence tank tops drastically clash her carpenter boyfriend’s grungy jeans and (maybe) a t-shirt style. But they are just right for each other.<br /><br />Today Conner took me backstage the theater where we hung out with his friends for lunch. With my hair all pinned up and four different colors on my eyelids, I sat in a sawdust covered chair. My dainty silk slippers tapped his sneakers to the beat of the music that resonated off the concrete walls. It was the first time I had been in “his school environment” as he has known it the last four years. I looked at Conner, relaxed in a splatter painted lounge chair surrounded by half-finished projects and felt peaceful at the sight of him.<br /><br />An hour later I looked down and noticed I still had sawdust all over my new black dress shirt. I felt like Carrie just returning from Aiden’s carpentry workshop. My many gold bangle bracelets jingled as I wiped off the sawdust. I smiled and thought about how two so seemingly different people can go together so well. I smiled at how jeweled, freshly painted fingers fit perfectly in large, spray painted hands.Niahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02018815279265274783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6958676806827528243.post-28880349293559379532008-01-13T21:01:00.000-08:002008-01-13T21:07:14.017-08:00Vibrant Ruby<span style="font-family:georgia;">I wake up and grab my thick socks from the nightstand before letting my toes hit the chilled wooden floor. I cross the bedroom in two solid steps and enter the narrow hallway. In the kitchen, I heat up the skillet and whip up a quick egg. Fried with the yoke broken. Just the way I like it. A chime rings through the air and a piece of toast jumps up just in time. I sit at the tiny four-top, legs crossed under me on my chair, and I look five stories down to the cobblestone pathway. People are already buzzing about outside. My heart does a jumping jack and I rush into the extra bedroom. I had renovated the minute guestroom into a walk-in closet last autumn. Let’s face it; I have more clothes than I do overnight visitors. I push aside department store racks of pants, tank tops, summer dresses. Flipping on the stereo, I rummage through my wardrobe, the sun from the window joining me in my quest. I find the pair of denims I was looking for: dark, slender, just crisp enough to look more chic than the pair you wear every day. Twirling and fluttering around, I put together an outfit that perfectly fits my feathery and cheerful mood.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Pausing to look in the full length mirror, Coco Chanel’s words dash into my mind, “When accessorizing, always take off the last thing you put on.” I pull off the red and gold headscarf and shook out my long curls. Perfect.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">I step out of my apartment and chirp good morning to the single mom that lives next to me who just returned from taking her youngest out to the playground at the nearby park. I decide to take the stairs as I glide a vibrant ruby across my lips.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">My forest green heels hit the stone path and I lift my face to the sky. The sun kisses my cheeks and continues to hug my back as I mosey on down the street toward the marketplace. The delightful fragrance of fresh fruit stealthily captures my attention and I purchase a juicy pear from a vendor. Slurping on my treasure, I slip past bustling, talkative groups of people and pick up a pound of hazelnut coffee beans and a big orange ribbon. My lips form a smile as I imagine my neighbor putting it to use and needing the extra boost to help her out on those early morning park adventures. A little skip finds its way into my gait and my smile broadens even more as I look forward to the rest of this joyous day.</span>Niahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02018815279265274783noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6958676806827528243.post-63827504967358707212008-01-09T22:38:00.000-08:002008-01-09T22:41:02.872-08:00TwirlingWhen we kiss<br />On the clouds<br />I spin and twirl<br />And sing out loud<br /><br />My toes dangle<br />In the sky<br />I flip and swirl<br />And dare to fly<br /><br />My heart’s a flutter<br />When I’m with you<br />I dance and whirl<br />Up to the moonNiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02018815279265274783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6958676806827528243.post-48593902381732342952008-01-05T00:02:00.001-08:002008-01-05T00:02:31.302-08:00Where We WalkWhere we walk<br />And where we’ve been<br />Cannot be judged<br />By the minds of men<br /><br />Their ways, their laws<br />Every word and thought<br />Cannot take the power<br />For which they fought<br /><br />They try and take over<br />Try to be in command<br />But they cannot control<br />That which they demand<br /><br />So have no fear<br />And pay them no mind<br />Cast those worries<br />And troubles behind<br /><br />They cannot touch you<br />So shed not a tear<br />If you desire,<br />They cannot come near.Niahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02018815279265274783noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6958676806827528243.post-12099934565684977202008-01-04T23:58:00.000-08:002008-01-05T00:03:11.442-08:00BeyondWhen will we voyage<br />beyond this world<br />and see see see<br />beyond the sky?<br /><br />When will we journey<br />behind those clouds<br />and spy spy spy<br />with our very own eye?<br /><br />Oh, to see what is past you, Sky<br />Oh, to escape your bearing<br />and fly fly fly…Niahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02018815279265274783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6958676806827528243.post-27933382774714640522008-01-04T23:36:00.000-08:002008-01-04T23:57:05.636-08:00I do this best when...I do this best when…<br />I cook best when I make a meal for someone I care about.<br />I drive best when I’m fucking pissed.<br />I dance best when I don’t have to fend off creepy men.<br />I laugh best when I really enjoy the company.<br />I live best when I trust God.<br />I love myself best when I think about how much God loves me.<br />I run best when there is nothing on my mind.<br />I sleep best when I am sad.<br />I sing best when I’m in the car and can’t hear myself anyway.<br />I read best when I don’t have a care in the world.<br />I feel best when I make others feel good.<br />I get in trouble best when, oh wait, I don’t get caught.<br />I study best when, oh wait, I don’t study.<br />I write best when it is really late at night.<br />I worship best when I laugh.Niahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02018815279265274783noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6958676806827528243.post-76550007727625376302007-12-16T20:10:00.000-08:002007-12-16T20:26:20.301-08:00Third Time's A Charm, Right?<em><span style="font-size:85%;">Strike One</span></em><br />You can love who you are when you are with him. You are confident, strong, closer to God. You can see the potential and know you would do great things together. But for one reason or another, you cannot and will not be together. It hurts, but it's just not going to work.<br /><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Strike Two</span></em><br />You can love him for who he is. Love him for his dreams, his skills, his smile and his heart. You can love everything about him, and be in love with him. But for one reason or another, you don't work well together. It's not that you don't care for each other, one just cannot supply what the other needs. It hurts, but it just doesn't work.<br /><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Third Time's A Charm, Right?</span></em><br />One day, you will love a man for who he is. You will love how you are when you are with him. You will love how you are together. You will be in love from every angle. And it will be the same thing for him.Niahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02018815279265274783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6958676806827528243.post-80231342274125416372007-12-15T11:06:00.000-08:002009-02-16T11:48:13.006-08:00Looking Back, Looking ForwardThe first day of a break up is an emotional haze. The second is even harder. Looking back on Thursday, I have to say that I learned a lot. Now, I'll admit I am no more knowledgable of the American judicial system than I was the day before, nor have I figured out how to say "to come" in French yet, but what I did learn that day will probably stay with me longer anyway.<br /><br /><ul><li>Donuts are worse for you than body piercings.</li><li>There's never a good excuse to skip a meal. An empty stomach will cause uncontrollable feelings of guilt to pump through your sugar-filled veins.</li><li>Never surrender your hope to the unfortunate circumstances of the world.</li><li>Don't lie to your mother.</li><li>Look people in the eye.</li><li>Wear your hair the way that makes <em>you </em>feel prettiest and dress exactly how <em>you </em>want to dress.</li><li>When your feet are cold, everything is uncomfortable.</li><li>Apologize to your teachers.</li><li>There's no such thing as over-tipping.</li><li>Unexpected help will be given to you when you need it.</li><li>Anger and pride can conceal your hurt from others, but it will never heal you.</li><li>It's okay to just hold your Bible and just feel God rather than memorize verses.</li><li>Just because your mouth smiles, it doesn't mean your heart does.</li></ul><p></p><p>The second day can be worse, but it doesn't have to be. Every day I will get up because I haven't surrendered my hope because of situations like this. I haven't concealed my hurt with anger because I asked God to take that anger away. He did, and He replaced it with understanding. I'm asking God to prepare me for whatever He has in store. And He is already helping me to smile from my heart.</p>Niahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02018815279265274783noreply@blogger.com1