ha. ha. ha.

Help. Help. Help. How do I do all the homework I have to do? My motivation is gone. It is all away. Never here to stay. Living my life like it is summer and I have no more homework assignments, while all those assignments sit in my lap waiting to be completed. Makes me feel like I'm going to be defeated. Help. Help. Help. Help me find the muster to complete this cluster of work to be done before I can enjoy the sun. I know I just have to grit my teeth and bear it, make it through the next three days, but my mind is all a haze. Ugh. Just thinking of all the fun things I have planned for the rest of this season, shouldn't that be reason enough, knowing the work will lead to pleasing? Anyway. I'm off to write these two papers and study for this exam. Will my brain melt? Probably. Ha. Ha. Ha.

Living a Bucket List Life

One thing I have not gotten around to doing, because it would require work - a bucket list.

However, that has not stopped me from living a bucket list kind of life. This year I have been white water rafting, spent a night in West Virginia and dun dun dun - went skydiving. Probs one of the most common bucket list life items. 

This whole adventure started with a conversation that Jen and I had saying that we should really go skydiving. 

This is Jen. Super Friendly. 

This is how Jen and I do things. We say we really want to do something and talk about how awesome it would be and how much we really, really, really want to do it, and then we wait for it to fall in our laps without putting in any effort. Luckily, this plan worked flawlessly this time. 

One day, as I was looking through the groupon deals, there happened to be one for skydiving. So a phone call to Jen later, and our tickets were bought. 

Here's another thing about Jen and I, once we spend money on something, we are committed to it. No backing out. 

After quickly checking with our friends to see if anyone else wanted to join, and all of them essentially stating that they preferred living, we were well on our way to willingly jumping out of a plane. ha. ha. ha. 

Three weeks ago Jen called D.C. Skydiving center and reserved our spots. ha. ha. ha. 

Here is a screenshot of our initial feelings about skydiving. 

We were so optimistic. 

Please ignore the fact that I spelled butterflies, butterflys.

Flash forward to the week before skydiving. Monday, April 22, 2013. We watch this video. 

Ha. Ha. Ha. 

Thursday, April 25, 2013. I feel like I'm going to throw up. The whole day. Probably more because of school and life stress, but I'm willing to attribute this feeling to skydiving. 

Friday, April 26, 2013, I tell my group that they shouldn't count on me getting my work done because I will probably die. I decide not to do homework, because, hey I'm jumping out of a plane. This is nutz. Dance the night away. Can't sleep, too nervous. Text Jen telling her I can't sleep, too nervous. Shower, Watch this video again

Saturday, April 27, 2013. It is the day. Go to Jen's house. Drive to the chiropractor. Jen goes to the chiropractor. I sit in the car. Cry, cry. Go to a bookstore. Can't focus. Too nervous. Go to panera. Want food. I eat wondering what it will be like to throw the food up in a few hours. 

We drive to the place, realize we are going to be an hour early, so we stop, have 7-11 slurpees and take a little bit of time to enjoy the weather. Then we continue to drive. As we approach the place, I yell and Jen stops the car as we see skydivers floating down from the sky. 

With excitement we walk through the fields into the skydiving place. We stand in line and watch a video with a long bearded man saying that we may die and will never be able to sue lol. Then we sign six pages stating that we are never, ever, ever allowed to sue them. Lol again.

Once we signed the papers we took a quick five minute course in skydiving. Essentially, hold on and then spread your arms out. After our extensive training, Jen and I were ready to take the sky.

As we were waiting for our harnesses, we witnessed an argument between our instructor and some fellow sky divers. This was all very reassuring and encouraging. One on one the instructors were nice, helpful, and funny. And we all know humor is the most important factor of all.

The terrifying fear that I had felt left the moment we arrived at the place. Probably because my mind no longer had time to create terrifying scenarios, probably because it was finally real and that was something I could hold on to.

So from the moment we stood in line to check in, I began to feel more comfortable. Not excited, not worried, not terrified, comfortable. As I was walking toward the plane, this turned into an event that was happening, the build up led to this moment, and the moment was here and now it was more typical than atypical. So while sitting on the plane and watching the world become small and visible, I was calm. The view was beautiful, the world was below me for my viewing.

I hear Jen's yells and screams. The door to the airplane opens. I watch as Jen spills over the side of the plane. And through this all, the butterflies that were in my stomach the week before are gone. I scoot my body (with the attached instructor) to the edge of the open door. First my legs dangle out, then we are standing on nothing, on air, as the instructor holds onto the doorframe of the plane. He asks if I am ready, and with a sense of calm I throw up a thumbs up. Then he lets go of the doorframe. We are parallel to the ground, the wind is overwhelming. I let out a yelp, because that is the moment that skydiving became real. Facing the open fields and perfectly cut out subdivisions is when I realized this was happening, I was no longer holding on to anything, this was a completely new experience, something I had never come remotely close to before. So in that brief moment I felt, not terror, but not comfort. I felt newness. Something I had never experienced before.

So after getting that yell out of my system, I relaxed and tried to comprehend the fact that I could see Washington D.C., Manassas, and Warrenton all at the same time with my own eyes. I tried to comprehend the fact that I could view the roads we had just traveled on, the backyards of people who lived complex lives. And that view made me realize, how small it all is, how little. What a weird thought that when I am on the ground, everything is so big and overwhelming and important. Viewing it all from above made it seem like time was standing still, like nothing was really occurring. Surreal.

Anyway the week leading up to this experience was stressful because the idea of jumping out of a plane is crazy. However, the actual experience was a moment to slow my life down, to remove myself from all the stress and anxiety and deadlines. It was a phenomenal experience and I wish I could accurately use words to depict the serenity and newness of the experience.

Here are some images of the view and Jen.

West Virginia Camping. Guns and Fireworks.

Over Columbus day weekend, two of my friends and I went camping. The location - wild and wonderful West Virginia.

Not sure what is more wild, West Virginia, or Lauren. 

The whole adventure started off with a travel voucher. After working at a desk job all summer, I was feeling a tad dissatisfied with the lack of adventure I had provided for myself that summer. So when I saw a discount for a New & Gauley River Adventures two-night camping and white water rafting, it seemed to be just the thing to spice things up a little.

So I did what any adrenaline seeking, confident adventurer would do, I asked my friends to please buy this voucher with me because I wouldn't do it alone.

After hearing yes's from a few, I decided to jump right in, shirk my newly found boring desk job personality and seek out some rapids to raft.

Fast forward a few weeks. I find out none of my friends bought the voucher and I can't return it. So after being ditched by those jerks, I decided that I was going to be committed to going, after all there was no reason I couldn't be the adventurous heroine of my life.

Fast forward a week or two. I realized the fear of dying in bear attack alone was greater than my zeal for adventure. So I asked my former roommate and friend, Jen Yoo, to accompany me.

Reassuring. 

After making a call to New & Gauley River Adventures to make a reservation I discovered that the camping people were lenient on who pitches a tent on their property. And I also found out that the voucher I bought was for West Virginia. Not Virginia. Surprise.

So Lauren was invited because all of our roommates had weekend plans except for her.

So my camping team was assembled.

What could go wrong with these two by my side?

The departure date was set for Friday after everyone got off work.

After work that Friday, I rush back to my apartment to quickly pack. It was at that moment that I realized how cold it was going to be that weekend, how ill-prepared I was, how I didn't have appropriate clothing for white water rafting, and, finally, how I wasn't sure what food to cook that weekend.

Along with the fear of starvation and hypothermia came the realization that I didn't know how to get to New & Gauley River Adventures. That last thing could easily be solved. I quickly rushed to my computer and printed out mapquest directions.

Upon printing these directions I received a new surprise to the already surprise filled trip - this place was five hours away. Originally I had thought that it would take no more than three hours to get there.

So instead of calling the trip off Jen and I decided to move on forward, without telling Lauren how long it would take to arrive to our destination.

Two hours into our trip we stopped at Cookout in Harrisonburg, VA to have dinner with some friends. That is when we broke the news to Lauren that we still had three hours to drive instead of one! Surprise! Best camping trip ever! She handled it really well, even though she has still not forgiven us.

We arrive to the place around 1 a.m. after driving through a ghost town from a horror movie.

We quickly make note of the welcome sign advertising fine burritos, the many many cars, and many many tents and realize that we are not going to be alone on this trip like we had originally thought. Bear attacks would not be a relevant fear that weekend.

Thank goodness we found a place that sold fine burritos. 

 We park the car and get out to gather our bearings. We are looking around, trying to soak it all in. Within the first minute out of the car we hear a gun shot and a person yelling, "Shoot, I've been shot!" That is when we knew that that was going to be the general theme of our whole weekend. Gunshots and crazy characters.

With a little bit of uncertainty, we walked around to find the prime place to pitch a tent. We found a spot between three trees and right next to the bar and restaurant, which was another part of camping we did not expect.

Little did we know we were breaking the rules.

What are they going to do? Tow us?

That night the bar, seen in the background of the picture, yes it's an outdoor bar, played music well into the morning, like 4:00 a.m. Then, at approximately 3:30 a.m. there were more gunshots and fireworks and a voice yelling, "wake up campers!" In that moment I was so certain I was going to die.

Luckily, we survived through the night and Jen made us breakfast.

The headlamp is a fashion accessory. 

Once we had eaten breakfast, Jen and Lauren escorted me to my solo white water rafting trip, because all my friends ditched me.

I was feeling pretty nervous about the whole experience until I found out I rent a wet suit. With the rental wet suit, I began to regain some of my confidence.

Jen made fun of me while I put the wet suit on. 

That newly gained confidence soon eroded after I had put on my wet suit and Jen and Lauren left me alone. All the rafters gathered at the bottom of the stairs and attendance was taken. Attendance went a little like this:

"McDonald, party of 8?" "Smith, party of 2?" "Martinez, party of one? One really? No one else is with you? And your helmet is on backwards."

So after being shamed for being alone and for putting my helment on backwards, I was starting to slightly question this adventure I had chosen to embark on.

Then came the safety talk. One of the instructors outlined all of the ways we would die. Getting stuck under the raft, being sucked under rocks that were undercut, falling out of the boat and into more rapids. I forgot to listen to the how to survive those situations part because I was overwhelmed by the fact that I was going to die.

The moment I realized I maybe wouldn't survive white water rafting. 

A forty-five minute bus ride up the side of mountain later, we were at our location. I was in a raft with two married couples. Being a fifth wheel quickly became one of my stronger qualities.

Some other people that went on this trip: a bachelor party (this party also shot guns until 4:00 a.m.), three french guys, two couples (whom I was with), and male members of a family.

After going over the first rapid, and crying inwardly a little, I realized that I probably wouldn't die and decided to relax and enjoy the trip.

Our raft guide was named Skip. He has been guiding rafts for 35 years, essentially since the commencement of the the industry. He was a true West Virginia character, with a long ponytail, an earring and wool socks. On our trip he told us stories about moonshine and the best practices for soaking fruit in moonshine. He pointed out different areas and told us the history behind them, even though most times he made it up. He let us do things that other raft guides don't do because they are younger and care more about the lives of their rafters.

Overall, the white water rafting experiences was one of the best of my life. It was a huge accomplishment and I still can't believe I went through some of the rapids I went through.

The reward for the rafters making it out alive was a beer for all. No worries, I did not partake in this tradition. However, I did enjoy the game they played on the way back - taking a drink every time they saw a trailer.

I returned to the Fine Burrito camping place extremely cold and accomplished.

While I was out adventuring, Jen and Lauren took a walk, played some cards, took some naps, and ate multiple meals.

100th meal of the day.

The walk. 

Some Karate Kid exercises. 

A camping site Jen and Lauren found. Dresser and all. 

After their walk and my white water rafting, we decided to head over to the bar and restaurant to finally try some of the fine burritos. We ate the burritos so fast we didn't get pictures. My burrito had sweet potatoes in it, definitely a new experience. A fine one.

Luckily, there is a picture of this. 

After finishing our dinner and bonding with some fellow diners over a fumble in a football game, we went back to the tent and tried to get warm.

Fire in a tent is always a good idea, right?

We found out Lauren was going to have a new baby nephew, we talked about the movie Pitch Perfect and Jen told us bedtime scary stories.

We tried to sleep. There many gunshots, fireworks, and drunken shouts. Then the bar decided to play some comedy show tracks. Quality bedtime serenity.

The next morning we woke up, said good bye to our neighbors, and put away our little tent.

Our show-off neighbors, who needs tents that big?

Our two person tent, where three people slept. 

Where our tent used to be. 

An awesome campfire someone had made. 

Good times were had in the tent. 

In all our glory. 

Then to finish is it up, we had a breathtaking drive home with the beautiful West Virginia scenery. Jen took a picture of literally everything, the Pizza Hut, the gas stations, trees, trees, and more trees.

Most times the pictures Jen took weren't all that focused. 

And, as if things couldn't get better, we encountered and photographed a motorcycle gang on our way home.

As a group.

And individually. 

They can use the HOV lane.

He was cold. 

It was a phenomenal weekend. We learned very little about camping, but we enjoyed the gunshots, fireworks, and stories. Thanks for the experience West Virginia.

Twas the night before my internship...

So tomorrow I end my winter break and head back to the ever friendly northern portion of the Commonwealth of Virginia. I've dreaded a lot of things in my life, but this one has a particular unsettling feeling. It's a premonition that it's going to be a little rocky. But these feelings aren't coming out of no where. Let me tell you a little story of how it all started.

So last year I was in this program called Cornerstones. It was promoted as a first year experience which promoted hands on teaching and learning and small class sizes. Sounds ideal right? Well it wasn't. We took field trips to the woods to sketch what we saw. And one of my teachers told the class there was feces in tap water. There were no tests and almost all assignments were group projects. We also had reflection papers for literally every single thing that we did in that class. You showed up to class? Write a reflection paper on your experience. You read a one page article on global warming? Write a five page reflection. You took a field trip to a farm and took a hay ride? Write a reflective memoir. So you get the gist, it's basically like middle school but you pay thousands of dollars for it. And not middle school like the academic part, but middle school when everyone is trying to figure out who they are and going through puberty at the same time. So I guess you could say that Cornerstones was like going through puberty.

From the Mason website. None of this happened in real life.

What Cornerstones was really like. 

Anyway, I promptly dropped out of the program after my first year experience was over. I mean who wants to go through puberty more than two times? Cornerstones emails students information about the university. (Did you like the transition between thoughts?) This past semester I received another email from the bleeding hearts that are Cornerstones. It was about an internship. The internship is called the Study of the United States Institute. SUSI. I thought it was pronounced sushi, like the dish, but it's Susie, like the person. The email described SUSI as a program which allowed students from Bolivia, Peru and another country which I can't remember, maybe Paraguay, to come to George Mason and learn about leadership and community development and familiarize themselves with American government. A requirement was that interns and mentors be able to speak fluent spanish.

So maybe it was my latin blood that drew me to this internship. But I filled out the application, I interviewed and I received a position. A little less than a month ago, there was an orientation for this institute. I pictured the orientation going a little bit like this: Hello, this is what the institute aims to do, these are your responsibilities, these are the activities, this is the mission statement of our program, these are the logistics, and this is a schedule.

This is how the orientation went: Sorry I gave you the wrong room number, glad you found the place. The man in charge is running late. Here is a packet, read it in silence while we wait. (20 minutes later) Okay, he's not showing up, let's get started. Here's the schedule, read it in silence. (15 minutes later) Man shows up. "We are going to have to change everything, there need to be major changes, the funding has changed. Change the schedule now. Do we have a 90 person reservation for the last meal? How do you connect to the internet? Let's find an ethernet cord." (30 minutes later) This is main thing we need to discuss, it breaks my heart to have to say this, but it is a rule, I just wish it wasn't this way. You can't fall in love during this internship. Also no alcohol. Meeting over.

So I walked away from this orientation not knowing what the heck SUSI does. And also being told that I can't fall in love. I don't have an issue with that instruction. I do, however, have an issue with the fact that these people think that falling in love is something which undoubtedly happens and needs to be addressed. That's when I realized that this internship was going to be like puberty all over again.

So those are a few of the reasons why I'm dreading the beginning of this internship. Also, I lost the folder they gave me during orientation. Oops. And another also, the people let us know very last minute that we weren't going to be staying at the hotel on campus and that we had to find our own housing. So I am going to be doing a lot of house jumping.

I'm leaving tomorrow morning. There are a few things that I have done to prepare myself for the upcoming weeks.

Stress relief and quiet moments tea, necessary.

I've drank a lot of stress relief tea. And a lot of Cozy Chamomile in hopes my stress toward this internship will be relieved and that I may have quiet moments. Didn't know tea could do this, did ya?

Last supper...at home (not funny right?)

My mom prepared me my final home cooked meal for a while. It's ethnic. My latin blood got me into this, and it'll get me through this. Maybe something I should do tonight is pack. 

Can't wait for the awkwardness and general chaos that will begin tomorrow!

Gini Happiness Index

When the United Nations gets together to discuss human rights, they judge countries on human rights by different methods. They include social and economic equality. One method which I recently learned about is the Gini Happiness Index. This is an index which uses a nations happiness to indicate whether it is developed/developing.

One would assume that a nation that is happy is developed, right? Surprisingly, (at least to me) it's the opposite. The sign of a developed nation is a lack of happiness. According to this happiness index, the higher economic prosperity, middle class lifestyle, the more a person will want. It's the general, once you get something you just end up wanting something more. When a person sets a goal, reaching the American Dream (white picket fence, stable job, family, blah, blah) and they obtain it, then there is a sense of dissatisfaction. When we get something that we want, then we want more. When we reach our goals we are unhappy.

It is a cycle that is continual. You know, the definition of cycle, continuous. So I guess my question is, is anyone ever happy? Ever? I mean you set a goal, obtain it and then you are unhappy or you set a goal, you don't reach it and then you are unhappy and disappointed. And in this case I don't think that there is a median gray area. In most situations there are gray (or do you spell it grey? I NEED TO KNOW!) areas, but not with the Gini index, which in case you hadn't figured it out is a metaphor for life.

I just want to know if we are ever satisfied with the lives that we lead. Because this is what I've been feeling, I've been feeling a little tired of school, I've been feeling like what I'm doing now has little significance. So I am dissatisfied. The more I have, the more I want. So the Gini Happiness Index is true.

Now that we have that established, the next question is where do we go from there? If we know that we have a tendency to be unsatisfied, how do we deal with it? How will I deal with it?

The importance in life is to find a passion. To figure out what the heck we care about. Then from there we do things in order to put that passion into action. We find purpose and we dedicate our life to do what we love for the ones we love. So I guess I'm still trying to get through this stage in life. Which is actually your whole life.

And then once I am dead I will know that though it wasn't easy, I live my life for something that I loved. Even though there were moments when I was unsatisfied and craved more.

Those are my thoughts.

Why do we eat Judy Dolls?

I don't know if this is something that I should be ashamed of or not. I watch Grey's Anatomy. And I love it. A lot. It's the one show that has makes me cry. All the time. Like a little baby. Like a teenage girl. Like a pregnant woman. So I am all three ages and stages in one when I watch this show.  I am an emotional mess and it's probably the reason why I lose so many friends when they watch Grey's with me. And it's how I will know who my future hubby will be. It is at those Grey's watching moments that I am my worst. Okay, maybe that's an exaggeration. But if he can stick it out through that, then he can stick it out through pretty much anything. So anyway, it's my obsession. I like it. A lot. And I don't just throw that around.

Moving on from my hysteria over the show. I am currently watching it while studying for finals that I will fail. I watched the Enough is Enough episode. In this episode there is a guy who eats judy dolls.

Judy is so cute. 

I mean I've eaten some things that could be considered weird. Pennies, dog food, George Mason food, just kidding George Mason food is good. But the things that I ate, I could swallow, easily. The guy in this show swallowed Judy doll heads. Like Barbie doll heads. Swallowed them. Whole. With hair. And if you think that it's just a show, it's not a big deal. You are so, so wrong. This show has meaning and depth. Put aside the senseless sex and sometimes lack of common sense and intense fear of relational commitment for just a second and you have a show that is an observation of the complexity of human nature. Or maybe you could argue that those things just add to the complexity. So there. The fact that this man swallowed Judy Dolls, is important.

Obviously the question at hand is why the h would he swallow ten Judy doll heads. I mean it can't feel pleasant. Have you ever tried swallowing a Barbie doll head? Not an easy task my friend. Not even in the show. So even the sex driven, common sense lacking surgeons question the motives that this man had to ingest doll heads.

Yummy right?

Toward the end of the show, after they had removed the doll heads from the man's stomach, he somewhat answered the question of why he swallowed those doll heads. Once his tummy was doll head free, he said that he felt empty. First of all, he feels empty because ten doll heads is a lot.

But it goes a lot farther than that. The reason why this man ingested these doll heads is to make himself feel full. To avoid the sinking sensation of being empty.

So what does being empty feel like? It's those moments in life when you are worn out and exhausted. When you are at your limit and you honestly feel like you can do no more. When you are running/living on absolutely nothing. That's the feeling of being empty. It's a scary feeling. A feeling that I would do anything to stay away from.

So why do we eat Judy dolls? The same reason that we give ourselves away, the same reason that we turn to other things that numb us from the world. Because sometimes we think that living with the guilt is better than living with the emptiness. But in the end this is a no win situation. The things that you take, use, eat to get away from the emptiness end up hurting you just as much if not more. The Judy heads may have taken the man away from the emptiness but they also put his life in danger. And the emptiness,  the Judy dolls themselves are just as scary.

The Judy dolls themselves are weird and uncomfortable and don't make anyone feel good. So this is what it comes down to. What we rely on, the Judy doll heads, don't make us feel better and the emptiness is too scary to deal with. So what the heck does that leave us with?

I'll tell you what that leaves me with. It leaves me with nothing. I have nothing to fix the emptiness. I have nothing to make it better. I am useless. And that has been a hard lesson to learn. So when I am not enough, that would seem like the end of a hard fight, right? But that's not the case, when we have nothing  what does that leave us with? It leaves us with the love of a forgiving and redeeming friend. A love that heals. A love that fills the emptiness. A love that we have never known. A real love.

Can you imagine that? Something so great that takes away the pain? Takes away the feelings of our inadequacies? So instead of ripping dolls heads off and eating them to feel full, what if we turned to this love?

And here's the hardest concept of all. We can. We have this love at our fingertips, we can use it to heal our pain. But we don't. Why? Why can't we use this love? What is this anyway?

This love is the love of our eternal unfailing friend, our passionate and caring lover, and our stable, unchanging, always loving, and forgiving Father. It is the love of God. So why can't we accept it? Why do we not turn to this when we are hurting? Why is it so hard to believe that we have a Father who always loves and forgives?

This is something that has been on my heart a lot recently. And no matter how much I think about it, no matter how much I talk about it, discuss it, question and search for an answer, I can not find one. Why can't we accept love that is being given to us? Why are we obsessed with hurting? I don't know that anyone really knows.

Maybe it's because it is so hard to love ourselves, that we find it difficult to believe that someone else could love us.

Maybe it's because we have been disappointed so much, that investing in just one more relationship is too painful.

Maybe it's because we are too used to being the only ones we can rely on, the fact that there is someone else is unreal.

Maybe it's because our lives have been fairly simple to this point. We don't feel a need for a loving Savior.

Maybe it's because the concept is too scary.

Or maybe it's just easier to not.

Whatever it is, the empty feeling will always, always be the most terrifying feeling. And whatever it is, the things that we use to solve the emptiness will never be enough.

So maybe the first step is admitting that we eat doll heads. We use other things to solve the emptiness. Are those things working? Are we aware of the emptiness? How much pain will we have to go through until we begin to consider love as a solution?

Confessions of a Teenage Homecoming Queen.

So the secret is out. People have found out. And I will never be able to go back. I was one of the girls who wears a crown and a sash in front of a football stadium. So judge me. So scoff at me. So walk in front of a moving car. Because everyone hates the homecoming queen, right Emily Osment?

And I get it. I understand where it all comes from. And I understand why people are surprised when they flip through a few facebook pictures and see the boutonniere that is bigger than my face pinned to my dress. And I get why it's funny to say, "So I saw that you were the homecoming queen."  Because I hate school dance and crowns too. My senior homecoming was the first school dance that I went to. And that was a little bit out of obligation.

Oh wait, forgot about eighth grade finals. But was middle school even real life? Don't think so.

Remember this?

In mid September I went back down to the Valley for my high school's fiftieth celebration. And I had some time to reflect on the time that I held the crown. It's taken me two years, but I'm finally aware of the way that my school and community loved me. I am humbled at the fact that I was chosen to be queen. Not in a the, gee didn't see that coming, I'm going to cry on the football field sort of way. But in a truly moving, the Lord is glorified sort of way.

Lately I've been learning the difference between oneself being glorified and Jesus being glorified. I truly believe that the reason that a crown was handed to me two years ago is because the kids at Fort Defiance are so attracted to the Love of an eternal, reliable, unwavering Father. Every community is yearning and hurting for someone to be kind, for someone to pour out love. They know that they want it, they don't know how to reach it. But out of instinct they turn to a God that they many times have never given any thought to. I am truly humbled. As believers of Christ we are called to be Jesus with skin on. Though we are far from being anywhere near that. We sometimes show some minuscule of amount of love that can transform a life. Because of our great love for our creator.

I grew up in the Shenandoah Valley, and though it may not be in the bible belt, it is a place where kids are raised knowing about God, but not really knowing about a relationship with God. People are placed in this area to show others what a relationship with God can do to a life. Two years later I realize that all Christians are called to be disciples. And I am humbled by the way that the Lord used me at Fort Defiance.

The year after I was queen, I came back to hand down the crown to someone else. That someone else was a beautiful girl, Kristy.

Kristy and Ronnie 2011 HC King and Queen

So from now on when people think it is humorous that I was homecoming queen, I won't have that small unsettling feeling. I realize now that whatever being homecoming queen may have meant in the past, it is different at Fort Defiance High School. At this school kids glorify things other than popularity and superficial beauty. They search for real beauty and the incarnation of a Jesus they don't even know they need.

So I was the homecoming queen. And I'm finally okay with that.