6. blood.

investment in others is inevitable.

i think it could be a fact to say that every contact with another person affects both you and them in some way; it influences the world for an instant and that impact remains.

i think heartbreak is very far from being limited to romantic love.
heartbreak is a decision that someone makes that causes one to abandon a portion of who we are forever.
no matter the size of that piece, i don't think that it is ever our own anymore.
when we love another person--a friend, a brother, a lover--we give them something from our heart and soul.
they own that piece prior to heartbreak and after the heartbreak.

at some point in time, that piece of you made them a little more whole. love fulfills. real love builds up and forms goodness within us. something that makes someone more complete can't exactly be taken back once they've decided that you're not who they want anymore. it stays there for good.

it's like donating blood.
when someone's body is going through a traumatic situation and loses blood, a donor's blood is urgently given to them. if the blood matches, it must been given to whoever needs it.
this foreign blood replaces what their body cannot create for itself. it saves their life.
it remains, continuously pumping through each of their organs, keeping them alive.
another person's blood.
blood isn't exactly something that can be "borrowed."
your blood has made them whole; a permanent investment.

all of those pieces of your broken heart that are scattered among people that you love and have loved are simply and beautifully your accomplishments. take heart in them.

don't ask for your blood to be returned.
how selfish would that be?

5. roads.

yesterday i spent six hours at the pool with gwen, a nine year old girl who i've been nannying this summer. six hours. in case you aren't getting my point, six hours is a disgustingly long time to be in a chlorinated body of water. perhaps this is just my opinion, but i sat in the sun reading a great novel; therefore, the extent of my complaining is complete. after dropping gwen off at home and talking with her mother for a few quick moments, i drove home listening to music at deafening volume levels. while at the pool, i got yet another phone call drenched with disappointment and failure. i let someone down again; i allowed my mistakes to literally be the expense of someone who has only given me the entire universe.

sometimes when you deliberately don't change something about yourself that needs to be dealt with and buried forever, you are no longer the only one who has to sustain the burden of consequence. if that's not fuel for a new beginning, i'm not sure what is.

actually, every beginning is new. i'm not sure why that phrase even exists.

when i got home yesterday evening, i had this pressing urgency to tackle the much needed task of reorganizing everything in storage down stairs. so, i pulled out EVERYTHING. i opened each bin and container, condensing items to smaller boxes, sorting through old things and selecting stuff that might be put to better use in a homeless shelter or donation center. i have so much stuff. stuff that is purely just...stuff. most everything is attached to a memory, though. so as i sifted through all of my old, dirty junk, my anger towards my previous/current failure began to fade. and my pandora station kept playing all of the right songs.

 i was one of those little girls who played with hotwheels and barbies simultaneously. oh wait. i'm the only one to ever do that? figures. i seriously loved hotwheels. i found my case of cars last night, sitting on one of the tallest shelves downstairs. not a day went by when i did not have that container completely empty, cars scattered everywhere, my imagination designing stories about destinations and journeys of all of these vehicles. i think that my love for hotwheels as a kid is partly responsible for my love for driving now that i'm an adult. for about one day i was even convinced that i should be a truck driver. i like being on a road, with or without a destination, because i'm moving towards something and away from something else. motion is super cool. at the same time, i can be driving 70 miles per hour and feel like the world is completely still. does that ever cross your mind? it makes no sense but is completely true at the same time.

roads are always available. they're always there to take us wherever we feel like going. roads are dangerous and unpredictable, but that's what makes them worth driving on. any road is worth it as long as you have a good soundtrack.

my failure is the best motivation i could have to be able to drive into my dreams.

love mercy, live justly, walk humbly...take me there.

4. joy.

my favorite thing about joy is that you don't have to be happy to experience it.

the end.

love mercy, live justly, walk humbly...thank you for your perfect peace.

3. leaves.

my favorite time of the year is autumn. i've always had a hard time picking a favorite season, though. in winter, i love bundling up in warmth and counting dow the days until Christmas and watching snow fall. in spring, i live for dresses and flowers and driving with my windows down. in summer, i like the sunshine and country music and random adventures (summer tends to hold many of those). but when fall comes around, i am one unthinkably happy girl. autumn, by my definition, is the time of the year when i fall in love with clothes, i constantly wear my favorite pairs of boots, i no longer have to worry about my hair frizzing up and risking looking as if i were freshly electrocuted, stores sell caramel apple suckers, i turn a year older on the 4th day of october, and the colors outside are gorgeous. it's beautiful and mesmerizing and i will never be too old to jump in a pile of leaves.

leaves are wonderful. they have a distinct smell that causes me to want to go carve a pumpkin and drink apple cider. taking a walk is accompanied by a natural soundtrack of crunchy leaves shifting beneath your feet, a song only heard during the season of fall. i love that sound.

fall means going back to school. i've always given in to the back-to-school hype that is annually instigated by old navy commercials and buying new pens. (i love paper-mate uniball pens. they're the best out there.) ironically, when school has started and i'm sitting in class viewing a syllabus that is still warm from the printer, the long list of assignments in my near future suddenly kills the back-to-school happy bug.

but then i leave class and shuffle my (super cute) boots through the piles of leaves in my path. and nothing beats that. i love that something so simple and natural can provide me with a smile. leaves. happiness.

people always leave.
seasons always change.
leaves always fall.

it's true. right when we think that we have friendships and relationships that are like oxygen for our every day lives, people leave. why does this always happen? prepare yourself for a really, super bad analogy.

i am a tree. every experience i absorb, each person in my life, all of the mistakes i want to take back are my leaves. all of these leaves grow and eventually must fall as seasons change. sometimes we want to hold on to this stuff because of the importance and beauty it provides us with, but you can't keep a leaf from falling. it has to happen. it always will happen and it is not in our control.

the thing about fallen leaves is that they still bring a smile to my face after they've fallen. i get to walk through them and remember where they grew and where they once had been brought to life. they crunch beneath my boots and i smile. i smile because of lessons learned. i smile because they've cleared room for new leaves to grow. i smile because life is so unpredictably beautiful, yet we will always know that seasons change.

i just really like leaves.

live justly, love mercy, walk humbly...i'm seeing who i am, God.

2. words.

i like words. i like using big words and i like it when people pick ridiculously long adjectives to describe simple things to me during conversation.

i like thoughtful words, filled with good intention. i like letters written to me. i like tweets. words must be chosen more intricately and precisely because you only have a 140 character limit to communicate within.

i like words with friends.

words encourage and words destroy.

when i was young and very distant from my desire to eat a vegetarian diet, i lived for steak 'n shake. not only did i love their grease indulged steakburgers, i also loved their place mats. on each place mat there would be a game of mad libs. i was able to manipulate stories by putting my own words into pre-arranged story structures. i loved having that control. i could create a story of triumph and happiness, or i could design a tale with a plot of malice and hatred.

actually, i have that ability every day. every word i select to release into the world to be heard or read is capable of producing a smile or a death threat.

i cannot choose the reception, but i am in complete control of the execution.

an attempt to be encouraged should not be rejected. don't miss an opportunity to be blessed.

in the same way, love through your witty thoughts and random blurbs. don't miss an opportunity to bless.

assume the best intentions from people, especially if their words are fruitful and kind.

words will forever be powerful.

love mercy, live justly, walk humbly...teach me how to speak, God.

1. heard.

do you ever wonder if you take in more decibels of sound than you create? in other words, do you ever think about how loud your voice is in contrast with the sounds you receive? what is the definition of "loud" anyway? my first word association when i hear (ha) the word "loud" is the fellow adjective "obnoxious." i want to be noticed; i want to be heard. however, i don't think i really want to be loud. i don't think it's right to be loud. when i listen to music, i like to hear it loud, blaring from my stereo speakers to the point that i am convinced that i see the sound bumping from them. my intention is to drown out all other things; all other thoughts, sounds, and silence.

are you familiar with that specific sensation that you get only when you leave a concert venue after standing in a merciless sound blasted room for 3 hours? it's exhausting.

okay. sorry. you probably are praying for an end to my circling thoughts if you have even read this far.

i just am not convinced that it's my responsibility or purpose to be loud about anything i am.
my purpose is to be heard, delicately and carefully.
because i'm a part of something so much greater, stronger, and bigger than any noise i could produce.
i refuse to let my obnoxious noise distract anyone else from hearing.

i want to listen more than speak. i want to hear more than sing.

strip down pride...try using your inside voice. i've never met a person who likes being yelled at.

love mercy, live justly, walk humbly...speak to me, God.