Prayer for the Religiously Persecuted

Today is the international day of prayer. Did you know? I’m a hermit and didn’t know until I saw the video in the link below. I implore you to watch this. It’s about religious persecution. I actually cried.
Believe it or not, many people are persecuted every day. However, it is rarely, if ever brought up in the news. I can’t give you facts and figures (I have no memory for it). But it’s a large number. It’s a heinous crime. And no one ever talks about it.
I was lucky enough to be born in a country that gives me my basic right to believe what I wish. But so many others are not. Remember to pray for them because they need it. Everyone does, even those in free countries like mine.
It’s not just Christianity. It’s just not right to hurt people because of what they believe. I believe that all people deserve freedom of opinions. I believe that God gave Adam and Eve the choice, and so we should let everyone choose for themselves. There’s nothing wring with telling others about your religion; there is something very wrong, however, when the choice is taken away.
Personally, I will never stop believing and spreading my faith. But to push a religion on people is a terrible thing to do. Please, tell people about religious persecution. Share the video. Anything. So few people know about this issue, even those whose faith is so greatly affected elsewhere. I know it’s one of those things that some people try or want to ignore; it causes the heart and mind so much distress. But the more who know, the more likely it is to have results.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gdrsxp_GynU

I just posted a video response to this, so here's my own video. Not nearly as good, I know.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lnGItlFB5rA

The Black Hole Containing Only Ourselves

    I’m so broken. I’m so distracted by the world. This summer was amazing, but with school, I can’t study the things I did then. And I somehow ended up in this mess.
    I’m extremely behind in one of my classes, and it is hurting me. And yet I do nothing about it. Not really.
    We all get sucked into this black hole every once in a while where we feel like we can do nothing even though we’re the only ones who can do something.
    I’m taking a stand against myself.
    I’m going to squash those inner demons.
    And I’m going to get back onto God’s path because I clearly cannot take care of myself.
    “We were meant to live for so much more…This is your life. Are you who you want to be?… I dare you to move.” -Switchfoot

A Slice of Reality

     I just read the most refreshing blog post. It was honest. The author was honest about what she was saying. I’ve met her in real, physical life, and to say what she has said directly to others is even tougher. She is one of the strongest people I know, and it’s been a hard life for her. But she had the courage to let Jesus take control, and I admire her greatly. It’s not easy.
     So now I want to be honest. I know I can never be completely honest, but I’m going to try.
     This blog is basically a collage of what I’ve learned, what God has told me. I know I must sound preachy at times. That’s not my intent at all. But by putting things into words, I think it helps me understand on a deeper level. And sometimes, when I feel bad, I look back on old posts and try to remember why I’m here. These posts, they’re for me. They’re also for the world, but I write them for me and give it to the world. The tone? It’s for me, not you.
     I’m sure you’ve caught on that I’m a rather uptight person. Sadly, it appears in my writing. But that’s how God made me, so it must serve some purpose… I hope.
     In this truth circle I seem to have just formed, I’ll tell you about some blunders I’ve made today. When I start something, it’s usually best I continue until I’m finished, because otherwise, it will take longer. I work best by devoting a large amount of time to one, sole thing. They say it’s best in college if you only work on the homework from one class only for one or two hours at a time. I say, do it all in one clump if possible. The reason is that I get distracted easily. When I stop, that allows for a time where other things can and will sidetrack me. Today, I watched far too much TV, and did far too little school work. Why? Well, today it was because my stomach growled at really bad times. Just half an hour ago, while watching a TV crime show, something in the background distracted me, and I hardly paid attention to the show, instead trying to figure out whether I had seen decorative fruits or a painting of fruits. I’m like a dog with three squirrels.
     So it’s not the worst thing in the world. But let me tell you, procrastination and distraction are two terrible traits I have. I’m getting better at the procrastination. In fact, I no longer put the “pro” in “procrastination.” But distractions… Did you know that I was supposed to be writing in a story right now? Clearly, distractions are quite a bother.
     I’m very impatient. Right now, I’m annoying myself because I don’t know where I’m going with this.
     See? I’m a person. Right now, I’m scared. I’m terrified of the future. I keep getting older. In a few months I’ll be a legal adult. Soon, I’ll move out to live with a stranger in a dorm. One terrible year from now, I doubt I’ll be able to snuggle with my cat. He’ll be at least an hour away. And my life skills are severely lacking. The list goes on and on.
     Right now, I’m dealing with the right now. I used to be petrified of the future. Now, I’m only terrified, and most of the time, I’m able to forget that. Why? Because of God. Only last month did He reveal what appears to be what I’ll have as a job one day. It incorporates my few skills that are kind of useless in most places, and it’s something I love. Best of all, it felt right with God. And it all happened right before I needed to narrow down the colleges. Right now I’m at ten, although I think it’s probably closer to six or five in reality (The other four or five are kind of just there, floating in limbo. I have no reason not to go there, but I don’t really want to.).
     This is my life. It’s not fun, it’s really boring, and I have issues. You don’t even know the half of it. But I have to go to sleep because I don’t want to procrastinate tomorrow, like I did today.
     Just remember that we all have our issues. It’s just a matter of how we deal with them. I don’t know about you, but personally, I know Jesus to be my answer.

     “God is God. Because He is God, He is worthy of my trust and obedience. I will find rest nowhere but in His holy will, a will that is unspeakably beyond my largest notions of what He is up to.” Elisabeth Elliot

That Funny Little Thing Called Prayer

     The real blog post begins in paragraph three. Paragraph two is merely a detour.
     Here I am, at the end of my first week back to college. It’s been great and nightmarish. Two of my classes are online (Hooray!). One’s at the college itself. I only go to the college twice a week. As a lifelong homeschooler, I’m used to doing things on my own. It all works out pretty well. And then I contracted some short-lived virus that plagued me the night before and the day of yesterday, my second day in class. My stomach was in an uproar, my head was in shambles, my body forgot it had a brain, and my balance napped at inconvenient times. There was heavy traffic on the way there, so I contacted some friends. Even after they informed me that they were already on campus, I continued to inform them of the backup. See? Brain and mouth not communicating. At least they were amused… I’ve been told that my life is pathetically entertaining. Ah, but you probably do not want to hear about it…
     I want to discuss prayer. And life. And other related things. I’m not really sure how broad or specific this will be. Read on to find out!
     I’m not sure when it happened. Maybe a month ago. But here’s what happened:
     For about a year, I’ve been considering being a Christian counselor. I did a lot of research. I took two psychology classes. I mean, I was really serious about it. I knew I’d need a Master’s, something I was not looking forward to, but I could help people in God’s name, and do something I liked. I mean, that’s the dream, right?
     I was wrong. One day, my mom said something that triggered a memory. Someone, probably my mom, had once asked me if it was a good profession. Why it was a good match. And I suddenly knew; it was not. I was blown away by the question of while I might enjoy the job, would it be good for the other side? Would my patients benefit? I’m not exactly great with people. And I knew it wouldn’t be right to be selfish in that way. I could potentially hurt people. And it didn’t feel right. It actually never felt completely right, but close, and at that moment, it was wrong. It was all wrong. A whole year, gone.
     This last summer (it’s officially fall as of today), I explored my few options. And I found something new. Only one thing: American Sign Language Interpreter. I fell in love with deaf culture a year ago, and something last summer, something clicked. I explored my options, and was again happy. I was only sad in that I had yet to find a backup career.
     Two months, I believe, was I gung-ho for being an ASL interpreter. I was even signed up for ASL 2 at the college before the realization. Things were slipping into place.
     GOTCHA! I realized it was wrong for me. Maybe a month ago, I knew it was wrong, mostly for the same reason psychology was; people are just not in my repertoire. But it was closer that being a counselor had been. I knew I was getting closer.
     My greatest love is words. So I read a book about jobs in writing. Nada. I mean, I really needed to know my major. Wherever I went, I would have to declare a major. I wanted to apply early. And once I had my colleges narrowed down to a few, I could really look into their scholarship information. You see why it was a disheartening summer, right? All the research, Biblical devotions, reading, writing. I was aiming to discover what God wanted from me. And with my SAT scores? I considered taking a year off from school to get a job, and study again for that evil test unknown to my existence until a couple months before I took it. Ah, the huge pitfall of home schooling: your mother as your teacher means your knowledge outside of the subjects could very well only extend to her.
     I’m getting off topic. Let’s see… Ah, yes, I left off with finding out I wasn’t made for ASL interpreting, although ASL is a completely different topic.
     I’m not sure what possessed me that day, perhaps a month ago. Perhaps I do. I think it was from my extensive reading. I was reading a book about writing a novel, and the path it took to get published. Editors and the slush pile are all I really remember gave me the idea. So, I looked up the kind of jobs in a publishing house. Voila!
     The editors edit (of course), and sort through manuscripts. A book editor? Working with fiction? I looked at the entry level position, and even that looked positively lovely.
     I was in love, and I still am. Every little thing feels perfect. This isn’t good; this is very good. I mean, I’d major in English! Preferably literature.
     Sure, there are issues. I mean, I’m not sure exactly how God will work through me, but not everyone can be a missionary. My mom still is urging me to major in journalism because there are a lot more job opportunities, but I’ve never really liked journalism, although I love the word. My dad doesn’t even understand what the job is. But they’re small, and unrelated to what’s important: serving God. (Oh, dear, I do quite overuse colons and semicolons.)
     Counseling was like sticking the key in a door, ASL was turning the key, and editing was like opening the door. For all I know there are other steps, like walking in, cleaning, eating, sleeping, making the bed, etc… But I’m letting God be in charge of my movements. And this is at least a step in the right direction. It only took me, oh, I don’t know, seventeen years and seven months of observing, praying, researching, praying, deciding, praying, and praying to come to where I am now.
     Trust me, I’ve been praying about this for the majority of my life. I know I’m young, but I’m not patient at all. Knowing my major, and possible minors helped me sort through the 200+ colleges (I’m very thorough). And now, with God’s help, I’m embarking on the quest to choose a college. I’m 90% sure which one I want to go to, but I’ve still got to explore my options, with God’s assistance. For all I know, it’s what psychology was at first.
     I’m not sure how else to express where God should be in our lives. He’s a part of everything I do.
     Here’s a question:
     Where does God rank on your list of priorities?
     You have your answer? Here’s mine:
     He’s the paper the list is written on. Without the paper, there is no list. He should be the foundation of everything.
     I’m not going to lie; it gets difficult when God’s answer is to wait. And for the larger things in my life that I’ve prayed about, that tends to be the answer I get. Wait. Wait, Crystal. Be patient. One of these days…      And when He answers, I least expect it. I wasn’t looking for a career when it hit me.
     Just pray. And let God lead you. Because He always hears, and in the end, it’s always worth it.

    
     “I wish I had a quote, but my computer’s not working right. Please, God, please, God, PLEASE let it work this time!” -Joe
     “Not this time.” -God
     “… Fine.” -Joe

You Never Know

     I never knew why I was so drawn to death; though, death on its own is not grandeur. The tragic demise of a hero, the brutal killing of the ones who take a stand… It pulls me in, like a flower to a bee.      Yesterday, while reading, I realized why it is so alluring to me. It is not that I am morbid. No. But I am a Christian. So for me, the best thing in the world is the story of a man who gave his life to offer salvation to everyone else. (And, of course, three days later he rose from the grave.)
     While it is horrible, the case of the martyr is very special. And it affects me deeply. I think it makes me connect better with God. Certainly people will die over very silly things, but let’s not dwell on that.
     (Spoilers from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallow in the next paragraph.)
     One of my favorite fictional characters is Severus Snape. I know, I know, witchcraft and all that. But put it all aside. Okay, so he still would not quite fit the bill of a martyr. But he’s pretty close. He grew up abused. He turned into a horrible person, joined the wrong side, and so on. Then the woman he loves is killed, and in remorse, spies on the evil side. He turns good. But he’s always hates by his own side, he’s always alone, and then, without knowing his betrayal to them, the evil side kills him. And it makes me want to cry. He was only loved by his mother, his childhood friend, and his mentor. They were all dead when he died. No one ever knew him until he was gone. It’s terribly tragic. His whole life was consumed by a war. And in his last moments, he helped the good side to conquer.
     I have been writing a story lately. It is about a war and a girl who has to grow up much too soon to help their army win. It is filled with tragic, seemingly preventable deaths. If it were any other way, it would not be something that I can cherish.
     The whole idea about giving up your life for God, for a cause, for the most important reason possible is largely romantic, and seems silly. But it’s not silly. I mean, those movies where the guy and girl don’t get together and everything seems to fall apart? That’s silly. So much worse things can happen.
     I won’t be sure, probably for a while, but I don’t think I’m supposed to really live like most people do. Not everyone gets married and has 2.5 kids, you know. And honestly, pretty much once I hit junior high, I stopped thinking about marriage and becoming a parent, and whatever else. I’ve hardly ever even thought about “liking” someone since then. And the times I do are insanely brief (think of five minutes as being the maximum). I’m pretty sure that if I weren’t so heinously paranoid, I could live pretty well as a hermit. I’d be the happiest hermit you would ever met. Alas! God does not want us to keep everything to ourselves. As much as I loathe this world, I know I’m meant to be a part of it to bring the Light to others. But I don’t really feel a pull toward marriage and the whole shebang. I think I’m meant to be a Severus Snape. And if God wants that for me, then who am I to say no?
     I know a girl who has no career ambitions to speak of, and who doesn’t really show an interest in college. It’s as if she thinks she’ll marry out of high school (and she’s not dating anyone to speak of). What she wants most of all is to volunteer at a church and raise a family. Maybe that’s her future. Perhaps that’s what God’s telling her. But I just can’t imagine being a housewife, or a mother.
     Some people do have to give up a lot of what their life could have been. I’m willing. I don’t know if it’s in God’s designs, but He’ll let me know one day. But society, Christian society, doesn’t tend to address that some people will be paying a bigger sacrifice for God, such as a spouse, having a cozy job, or sometimes even their life. I’m praying that people listen closely to God when he tells them if what looks like the reasonable choice is the correct choice. It probably is, but you never know. I tell my parents to expect grandchildren from my younger sister before me because it doesn’t seem like it will be in my future, at least my near future. But God’s plans are stronger than my own, and you never know…
     "Sometimes even to live is an act of courage." -Seneca
     "For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain." Philippians 1:21

Legacy

     Why must everything be profound? Even little things are massive in the grand scheme of things. I’ve read quite a few books of poor quality, or ones that did quite the opposite of satisfying me. Had I given up on them early on, how many hours, how many days of my life would I get back? Little things add up…
     It’s tiring. I can’t reverse how I see things. I regret so much because of it. But I also know that right now, this very second even, I’m doing things I won’t regret. I won’t ever regret writing this blog. It’s too important. I don’t care that hardly anyone reads it; the few who do are a good enough reward.
     My time is so valuable now. Every little break I savor; every time I work on my projects, I glow. It irritates my family that I’m so conscientious of time. I think it’s a grand thing.
     I mean, what if I were to die tomorrow? It’s a morbid thought, perhaps, but it’s also motivational. It’s cliché, but that doesn’t mean it’s not important. I want to stand before God knowing that I made the most of this life. How can I do that if I waste away my time?
     I’m not sure how I got to this topic. I didn’t mean to talk about anything so deeply important. But it’s related, I suppose, to this post’s original purpose. Forgive my confused mind.
     Throughout this summer, I’ve had a list of daily things to accomplish. Every week, I made a new copy. At the end of each day, I’d count up the points. One week, I ran out of room on the double-sided, single spaced notebook paper, and had to just add a “Miscellaneous” category. Since then, I’ve added more and taken others off. It’s shrunk so that I can focus on reading more than a chapter in each book a day, or write more, or so on. And now the list has been greatly narrowed. But how do I choose what to cross off and what to add? How do we as Christians do this? How do we decide what’s important and what to throw away?
     A year ago, I began this terribly bewildering, difficult, and at times, painful quest. I was starting college, so the summer before I gave up some habits. This is embarrassing: as a homschooler, I had a lot of extra time, and almost unlimited access to the computer. After joining Facebook, I found out my mom played this game called Farmville. Ever heard of it? I started playing it as well. That was the time when at least a quarter of my friends were playing, if not more. Then I found other games. Then more. You know what’s sad? I could strategize my way through these games so well, it was not uncommon for me to be the top player among my friends. I was astonished by how much more time I had when I quit all of those things. When school started, I hardly had any time to do any writing for fun. All those notebooks in a giant box in my room sat idle for months at a time. That was truly excruciating for me.
     But where’s the line? What’s okay to cut, healthy even, like Farmville, and what’s hurtful? School took over my life. It gave me anxiety, made me sick, and made it so I stopped attending church and youth group, and stopped volunteering at AWANA. But I was still getting great grades. At the time, that’s what mattered. And now I have to face yet another miserable year of that in a month.
    When God told Noah to build the ark, there was no question about priorities. But not everything is so clear as that. Whenever I’m around something that has to do with psychology, I can’t stop myself from listening. When I learn ASL (American Sign Language), something just clicks. And when I’m reading or writing, I feel positively giddy. So, I’ve got the drive. But which should I devote my time to? Which job area should I pursue? Because everything I do is significant, I can’t imagine making the wrong choice.
     So how do we do it? Where’s the line? What’s healthy and what’s hurtful? While the line is getting clearer in some instances, like which books I should focus on, it gets blurry in others, like whether I should focus most of my time writing a novel I hope to publish (after quite a bit of editing, of course).
     Prayer. Reading the Bible. Talking with those we look to for Biblical wisdom. I’ve heard it all. I’ve tried it all. I’m not saying that these aren’t helpful; far from it! They’ve all helped me to an extent. And I’ll continue in these things. I just wish I had more patience, I guess. I mean, I am supposed to begin applying to colleges next month. But God will take care of it. He always does.
     Oh, Lord, please give me strength to continue in You and to see the line clearly.
     “Oh, I want to leave a legacy to be remembered.
     More than just a memory that fades away,
     Because we only, we only get one life.” -Sanctus Real

Never Give Up

     Oh, man, you’re so sore from that workout yesterday. And we need rest, right? Right. So, you can relax, forget about your projects for the day, and just chill. Oh, doesn’t that feel nice? But tomorrow, you’re going to dive right back into things.
     Tomorrow rolls around. Oh, and aren’t you still sore? And now you’ve caught a cold from exercising in the rain too much. Eh, one more day of relaxation won’t harm anyone, right?
     The next day is here. Ugh, you REALLY don’t feel like working. On anything! The cold’s on your nerves. Runny nose galore! But if it weren’t just your own, personal project, say it was a midterm paper that was due tomorrow, or taking your kid to a school play he’s in, you’d do that. But this? Who cares…
     Cold’s gone! Soreness has passed. But you’re just not in the mood to do anything that’s not mandatory. You have no motivation… And if it were truly important, you’d be motivated, right?
     This is how life, at least my life, tends to work. I’ll be on fire for something. Then, life gets in the way. I’m prone to illness, so for two and a half months, I suffered from sickness after sickness. I was also really stressed out; my class schedule was kind of nuts. I was so sick that once I missed an entire week of class, plus other miscellaneous days. It was the worst two and a half months of my life. I had to drop everything but school. My writing (both novels and, for the most part, this and another blog) was put on hold. I dropped everything but my schoolwork. After the first week of school, I stopped attending my youth group, another youth group I’d occasionally go to, church, and I stopped being able to volunteer at AWANA. I think I saw the doctor three times. The first time, on my birthday, they diagnosed me with anxiety disorder, drew my blood, and sent me on my way. My whole family, myself included, forgot it was my birthday until my dad remembered an hour after I woke up (one of the days I had to miss school). I think I lost somewhere between ten and fifteen pounds because it was so hard for me to eat on campus, and also sometimes at home. I hardly ever got enough sleep. I looked like death. I still managed to get a 4.0 in every class, except in one class with an impossible teacher, where I got a heinous 3.6. Yes, I’m an overachiever, but I also like to learn, and I think I only really learned in my Western religions class, because it was something I was passionate about, and more than interested in. But even in that class, I had to stop reading the textbook, losing a lot of information, so that I could focus more on things I was struggling with. Even when I focused on school, I had to eliminate some of it.
     Motivation and life. Satan could be affecting it. He sure wore me down during that time. In a ridiculously confusing way, he brought my life closer and further from God. At the same time!
     I’m human. And I’m not silly enough to say that I never struggle. We all do. But that’s when we grow the most. I’m always relied on God. Always. I mean, His shoulder should be bruised by how much I lean on Him! But those months? He let me know that it’s okay to be carried. It reminds me of that poem about footprints in the sand. He made me stronger through this. Maybe it sounds weak to you that I don’t rely on myself. It’s not weak, though. Placing your complete trust in something you cannot see, and handing over your life to Him, and then actually letting Him take control? It sounds scary, and kind of like you’re powerless. Like you’ve given up on yourself. I promise, you haven’t. In my first ever college class, my teacher had the class journal about certain topics. We had to write non-stop for fifteen minutes, I believe. The first time, I had no idea she was actually going to read them. When we had to hand them in, I wildly thought, Oh, no! What did I write?!? After that, though, I stopped caring that someone was going to read it. It’s a journal, and meant to be true. I just made sure not to be insulting, especially to her or the class. I remember getting one back once. She would always right notes on them.
     I have to say this: when I think about topics like, “Why are you going to college?” or, well, pretty much anything, I have a good habit of thinking as a Christian. My life is nothing without God, so that’s just how I express myself. I’m honest.
     Well, when I was writing, for some reason or other, about the future, and my plans, or some such thing, I couldn’t help but write about how I’m terribly uncertain, but it’s in God’s hands. Whatever He wants is what I’ll do. Now, my teacher, not being a Christian, wrote something along the lines of, “Why is in his decision? It’s your life. Why would God mind?” I didn’t realize how much she wouldn‘t understand. I mean, it doesn’t make me a wimp. And God gave me this life. I intend to live it for Him. Even if it means that He wants me to have a dozen children (kids and I don’t really see eye-to-eye…), I’ll do it. (And I didn’t say that I’d die for Him only because that is a much nicer path for me than having twelve kids. Yeah, they’re worse than death! For me, at least…)
     This teacher, she symbolizes a hindrance for some people. It’s hard for some people to cope with others laughing at them for their beliefs, or being told they’re being stupid. I remember having almost my entire class getting upset that I don’t support homosexuality during a pros and cons presentation I did with a couple classmates. I actually had one girl almost yelling at me. It was hard for me to keep calm, and actually stay focused enough to let the right words come out of my mouth.
     These obstacles we encounter are difficult, because, face it, if they’re obstacles, what else can they be? Easy? But we’re God’s spokespeople. What we do or say affects other people’s perceptions of Christianity. I’m hoping that my complete faith in God in my journals helped that teacher to see a bit clearer. And I’m also hoping that my standing up, and in a way I could be proud of, opened the hearts of my classmates.
Struggles like these can be used as opportunities to build yourself, and sometimes even others, in God. It’s a hard thing to overcome, but God only gives us what we can stand.
     I’d like to briefly go over motivation and obstacles in one more way: The lack of motivation. Just like the first story, I was NOT motivated. A couple days ago, I had friends over (HoboCon 2011!). Long story short, I ended up being really sore yesterday. It hurt to move, or even breathe. From about my sternum to an inch before my bellybutton, and two fists wide, ached, as though I’d done one million crunches. Today is no different. Even when I don’t move, I hurt. I’ve never been so incredibly sore in such an uncomfortable spot. I never realized how much I use my upper core until now. So, yesterday, not really being able to move about, I didn’t really even read. Not up to my usual par, at least. I still got through about five books. But I assumed it would pass. Now it’s the afternoon of today, and I hurt just as much. Oh, and now my back is starting to shock me. And I feel like I desperately need to sleep. Yeah, I’m not doing well… And, add to all of this my not being at all inspired or motivated to do anything of substance. Last night, right as I was going to sleep, I thought of a tragedy, and felt motivated, but only for a minute. Today, I began to start accomplishing a few things on my list, not really in the mood. Then…pop… A tiny bubble of motivation. Just ever so slight. So, I grabbed my things and prepared to hunker down on a couch (since my bed and desk are clearly off limits as they’re so comfortable and uncomfortable, respectively). My sister got upset; for days, or maybe even a week she’s been using it as a place to lay and watch videos, or play games on her iTouch. But, hey, I thought, what’s a couple hours? Quite a bit, apparently. When I asked her why she needed it, she said because of the iTouch. I asked her why I couldn’t use it for a few hours; at least I had a purpose, and couldn’t go anywhere else. She immediately fired back that I was being selfish. I only do things that benefit myself. You see irony in this, right? I told her that what she was doing wasn’t important, even to herself. But she kept yelling at me how I’m always just doing things that are for me.
     Do you know how many times I’ve tried to explain to my family what I’ve been doing? A little over a month ago, I changed. A lot. I quit bad habits and stopped wasting time. I’ve been focusing on studying for the SAT, finding out if I really need to take it to get into the college of my choice (I very well might not), reading the Bible, and Biblical studies, writing a novel to see if I can make a career out of it, or at least become published, reading novel-writing books, reading fiction to help my writing, exercising in small increments, and so on. Everything I do has a purpose, and sure, some most may be for my benefit, but I want to help others. How can I do that if I’m homeless, or if I can’t transfer to a college? How can I help others if I can’t build up my strengths, especially in God?
     It’s crucial that we keep persevering, no matter what’s thrown at us. For me, the hardest things are illness and having to battle my family’s opinions. And I’m struggling to get my Christian family, who brought me up like this, to understand.
     Isn’t it funny? I change for the better, and suddenly my family declares it’s not good enough, that I waste my time even more. Isn’t it funny that the more I try to help, the more anger is directed at me? I guess I expected that by stepping up, I’d at least be tolerable in my own family. I expected the world to be worse, but not this.
     Those who stand up and act according to their beliefs, and those who get closer to God are almost assuredly going to face harder and harder trials. This one for me, is horrible. My strongest support is gone. There is no encouragement. No praise.
     Persevere. Perseverance is a quality I’ve been building. I used to start projects, but never finish them. Not often. I still do, occasionally. But I’ve got to keep going. Think it’s easy to write a novel? Think about how many drafts I’m going to have to write of it. And think about how many times it will be rejected to be published. But it’s something I feel called toward. And so long as I feel that God’s supporting me, no matter how hard it gets, I plan on going for it. Will you?

     “If you ask my husband my best trait, he’ll smile and say, ‘She never gives up.’ But if you ask him my worst trait, he’ll get a funny tic in his cheek, narrow his eyes and hiss, ‘She. Never. Gives. Up.’” -Kathryn Stockett