The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2014 annual report for this blog.
Here’s an excerpt:
A San Francisco cable car holds 60 people. This blog was viewed about 240 times in 2014. If it were a cable car, it would take about 4 trips to carry that many people.
Click here to see the complete report.
Hello readers, I truly meant to do a lessons learned in 2014 post every day, but I got the flu and really didn’t feel up to it. I know that’s not necessary to mention, but it’s just something I want to remember cause my family has this weird competition where we each try to not get sick for as long as possible. So far my older sister is in the lead. She went a little over a year without getting sick. Anyways…enough about that!
So this past summer, I went on a mission trip. We just went to the other side of the state I live in, so it was nothing too exciting or dangerous. And the second day we were there, I sprained a tendon in my right hand. While painting. Like I said in another post, I never have an exciting story to go along with my injuries. The point of the mission trip was to do work for free for the people in that community that were too poor or too old to do it themselves. And then I go and injure myself, and BAM! guess who can’t help? I was so frustrated, I wanted to hit something. But I couldn’t even do that since, I, well, injured my dominant hand.
So I did the only thing I could do. Talk. I would spend about an hour and talk with the people we served. Before you go thinking I’m lazy, I DID help outside. For most of the day actually. I was so scared that everyone in my group would think I was a slacker or resent me or something. On my fourth day, I met an older woman who also had an auto immune disease. We talked about gluten free and well,(please don’t laugh!) Cats.
At the end of the week, everybody was given a fish hook pin as a reminder to be fishers of men. It was than that I realized that I was able to do that cause of my injured wrist. I remembered that verse in one of the Corinthians that says: For when I am weak, Then am I strong. I never understood the verse until then. God uses our weakness and our strengths for his kingdom.
P.S (I realize this was poorly written and I’m really sorry about that! I’m just tired. If there’s any questions or topics you’d like to hear about, just let me know . I’d love to help. Thanks!)
After I accepted change and left behind my old way of living( don’t worry, I’ll write about how I did that) I was thrust into a season of loneliness. And by season, I mean the entire summer. I had expected at least one of my former friends to try to keep in touch. Some I honestly hoped to never hear from again, and some, I actually valued their friendship. But I heard nothing, nada.
The church I was now at, their youth group was (and still is) one big clique. There was no way of breaking into their ranks. I thought I could during the mission trip. Once again, I’ll write about that later. We (my sister and I) thought we had broken in after we had one conversation with them, but then they didn’t talk to us for the rest of the trip. The past two summer’s had been filled with tournaments, and new experiences. So it was difficult adjusting to doing absolutely nothing. I was hating where I was in my journey and doubting my decision of quitting. “Maybe I could have stuck it out and learned to deal with those who didn’t like me?” I kept on thinking. But it was far too late to go back.
It was finally a quote I saw on pinterest that brought on an AHA! moment.
As this sunk in, I realized that the season of loneliness I was experiencing, was a gift. I was supposed to use this God-given time to not only find out who I was, but who God was. He was telling me to slow down, and I hadn’t listened. He was giving me a chance to heal. And all I did was whine about it. Instead of asking “Why?!”, start asking: “What are you trying to show me?”
At the beginning of this year, I quit Bible Bowl. I then shortly thereafter left the church I had been at for the past three years. I thought the people I had met there would always be in my life. I thought that that church would be my home church. I surrendered my desire to go into the music industry. Everything fell apart, and now, looking back, I have never been more thankful for anything in my life than I am about all that happening.
At the time I was confused and lonely, I began to resent change. I wanted everything to stay exactly the same. Man, am I glad I didn’t get my wish! Leaving that toxic environment I was in was the best thing for me. It put me on the right path. Sure, if I’d stayed, there’d probably be no major consequences, but I needed change. I think that there are thousands of different paths for us. There’s no wrong and right. Our world is way too complicated for that. But as each path presents different opportunities, it will also lead to different versions of ourselves.
I like the path I choose. It won’t be easy, but it will be worth it. I’m proud of who I am becoming. I’ve learned to accept change. We live in a world full of temporary things. So why do we continue to demand of God that things are to stay exactly how we want it to? We are taught to cling to everything around us. We are also taught that we are the writers of our own story, the directors of our own fate. That is simply not true. If you were given the choice to write out your entire life as a teenager, could you do it? I know I couldn’t. Things happen for a reason, and God is the one who wrote your life story. He knows how it ends. So when he tells you that it’s time to let go, obey. He knows what he’s doing even if you can’t see it.
Have a great day! = ) http://m.youtube.com/?reload=7&rdm=1cw8hh48x#/watch?v=aKkHi5lJ4yc
As 2014 nears its end, I want to take time (and several blog posts) to remember what I’ve learned this year. I probably won’t mention the ones I wrote about, but instead just mention the lessons I learned before starting this blog. Here is a major one for me:
Throughout elementary school, I was picked on a lot by the kids in my Sunday school, so overtime I just toughened up and let it slide off me. I began to think I was untouchable, that nothing could hurt me. Until last year when I had my reputation torn down by a couple adults who I respected. Maybe a smidge of truth could’ve been found within their lies and judging. I’m not sure and honestly don’t care, but when what they thought of me reached my ears, I was crushed. I already was feeling insecure and confused and they made it ten times worse. But it really doesn’t matter what they said, or who believed them. What matters is that I started to believe them. I didn’t think highly of myself and I placed my self worth in the hands of a couple adults whose opinion really shouldn’t have mattered.
Trying to convince yourself that you’re strong enough won’t work. Avoiding them won’t work. Trying to be the person that you’re expected to be won’t work. People are vicious and many will heartlessly throw harmful words at you. There will always be someone who will try to tear you down. It’s the way of our world and it can’t ever be avoided. I’ve found there is only one way to keep yourself from being torn down. It’s to remember this: Your self worth should never lie in the hands of the people around you. Place your self worth in the hands of God. He lovingly crafted you in his hands. You matter to Him even though you won’t always matter to the people around you. The Creator of the Universe cares and treasures you. If you place your self worth in Him, your confidence will never be shaken. You are awe inspiring, a sacred treasure. Why would you put your self worth in the hands of mere mortals when you can place it in the hands of God? Confidence doesn’t have to be temporary. The only thing that’s temporary are people’s opinions.
Only one more physical therapy session! I’ve improved so much and I was even able to write in 10 minute intervals yesterday! It’s been almost two months since I’ve been able to do that without my hand getting stiff.
Whenever someone asks about physical therapy and/or my arthritis, I always find myself ending with “Well, it’s no where near as bad as it was last time!” When honestly, it was probably about the same. Or at least physically it was. The only difference this time is that I haven’t indulged myself to a heaping of self-pity. And last time…well….it was…..a mess.
I cried myself to sleep, got moody, dramatized the situation in that annoying way where you add quickly afterward “But I’ll be okay, I don’t need your pity”. And because of that, a lot of my memories from the age of 7-11 are negative ones.
I remember one instance where I was crying on my bed and my dad came in and told me to get up, stop crying, and stop feeling sorry for myself. He told me that self-pity is very dangerous and that I needed to stop right then and there. Of course I was ticked for the longest time afterward cause I’ve always had a little rebel streak (thanks a lot, mom!).
But now that I’m older, I finally understand. I’ll always be grateful for what my Dad taught me. He taught me that it’s hard work that’ll get you places, never self-pity, laziness, or worry. The last two are still a work in progress for me….
Just got back from another physical therapy session. It went well I guess. My flexibility continues to improve. For the first time in a long while, I have hope that I’m not stuck this way. I feel really grateful right now. Every week I walk into the PhT Gym and see a lot of people in worse shape than me and I realize that I have no right to go around feeling sorry for myself. Besides, I don’t have any tragic back story or anything exciting to make me interesting and an inspiration to all like a lot of the folks I see there every week.
First came the rashes when I was 7, then the stiffness and pain, then by the time age 9 had come around, my joints had stopped working. All of the sudden I just couldn’t do much of anything. A really boring story I guess. But it’s helped make me who I am. Through it all, if I’ve learned anything momentous, it’s that things could always be worse, especially if you don’t have hope, and things, even the terrible ones aren’t nearly as bad as they seem if you get some perspective on the matter.
So this is what I’ve concluded: No, this wasn’t fair or right by our standards, just as it isn’t fair or right for me to be angry about it. It wasn’t tragic either. It was life-changing, yes. Also difficult. But I’m not sure our finite minds have any business going around determining what is and isn’t fair.
Well that’s all for now, I really ought to get some school done. I hope this helps you in some way.