Forgive me, but this post is going to be a plethora of things that have been swirling around in my head recently. So I'm sorry if things don't transition or make sense, but that's life. It's messy around the edges, but somehow it manages to work out ok.
First of all, this song. Goodness, it's just so right right now. I could legitimately listen to it from the time I get home from work until the time I go to bed everyday and never get sick of it. It's so beautiful, in lyrics and in melody. Please, give it a good, honest listen.
Secondly, I've been learning more and more, and not the easy way, that the only thing worth truly pursuing with your life is God. As posted before, I got myself I nice little slap in the face on Sunday night, which made me realize that I'm not doing my part trying to balance the scales of pursuit at all. I run...and run...and run some more, but the endurance of God is never-ending. He will run after me until my muscles fail me and I can't run any farther. So I decided to give up trying things my way and trying things the way God wants me to do them. Crazy concept, right? Yeah, that was a little bit sarcastic.
This whole new way of doing each day has been exciting. I wake up not quite knowing what will happen, but that whatever does happen, will be for my good in the end. Some days are filled with generous blessings, others with trials, but at the end of the day, I know that no matter what has happened, I'm that much closer to God and striving to live everyday like he commands me to.
So I spread writing this post out over two days. Mostly because I got distracted when I was writing originally, and now I feel focused, and better rested. I originally also couldn't come up with a decent title for this post, but I think in the shower today, it came to me. You have to lose your life to find it. I think that's an appropriate title today. Forget about what you want out of life and drop your plans. Just start living and you'll find a life fuller than you can even imagine. This is a tough one for me because I can be so Type A sometimes. I like when things match, are planned to the minute, and when people actually use their turn signals. (But really, people in this town drive like maniacs.) But I'm trying to better, and for now, that's all I can do--just keep trying.
Also, while I was looking in the mirror trying to decide whether to straighten my bangs tonight or in the morning I got this: Glory be to the Father. And it made me think, how much am I taking credit for in my life? Because in all reality, none of it is me. It's one of those things I want to remember so badly, I thought about getting it tattooed on. (Too far, mom?) (Psh, like my mom knows I blog.) But really, think about that one. Are you taking credit for things that you shouldn't be? I don't want to make you feel bad, just convicted. Which is a good thing! And God rejoices in the confession of not giving credit where credit is due. (Shameless college ministry plug--for a wonderful message on the beauty of confession, go here: http://www.fueleveryday.com/media.php?pageID=32)
So, to conclude this post, I thought I'd leave you with another song that I've been a little bit obsessed with recently. It's so lovely and simple and the lyrics are so sweet. Here you go! Hope everyone is enjoying their week and if you live anywhere near the midwest, hope you're beating this heat!!
Blessings,
Liz.
A journey through the world of creative cupcake (and other delicious treats) baking and decorating!
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Monday, July 18, 2011
That Awkward Moment When You Realize You've Been Ignoring God For Nearly 10 Months
Hey y'all. I know it's been awhile since I've written, but honestly, besides it being ridiculously hot outside and babysitting, not much has happened--until tonight. It was one of those days where you get the good news and the bad news but they're kind of the same thing. Yeah, I realize that was vague. You don't need to tell me twice.
So here's thing, long story short, it's another one of those drawn out boy meets girl stories, but in this one, girl realizes she wasn't doing the right thing all along, is about to dtr* herself, and then gets dtr-ed* by the boy out of the blue after a game night at the Christian girls's campus house after church. This story doesn't end well for the girl in one way, but at the same time, it's a good thing. Confusing? Probably. Sorry bout it. I'm trying to not get too detailed here, otherwise this story would go on forever, and I would really like to keep the identity of said boy anonymous as well as possible.
If you didn't catch on here, I am girl. I got to go through that awkward moment where you're like, "no really, I talked to God and He was like, 'girl, what are you doing? I've been trying to tell you for awhile now that he's not right,'" even though you told a girl literally a week ago about your crush on this boy. But true life, I wasn't in a good place before, let's say Thursday for the sake of argument, and it wasn't until then that I realized what had been right in front of my face for, well, awhile. What's awkward now is going to be going to work and having the mother of the kids I babysit ask me questions and me having to answer, "Yeahhh about that..." I'm awkward enough without being thrown into extra awkward situations. I'm not so sure I can socially handle that one. Whatever though, I'll figure it out as I go. Hey, maybe she was right about the eyebrows and if they were nice, I would've landed the man. (Sorry, still bitter.)
Tangent. My bad. Back to business.
So where I was going with this story was that I've realized that I can't keep trying to fit World-shaped pegs into God-shaped holes. It's just one of those times in life where legitimately EVERYONE AND THEIR MOTHER is getting engaged, so it's like, oh you're 20 and not in a serious committed relationship?? What the heck?! And then you're like, shoot son, I gots ta get me a man! Which is such a lie. A big, fat, ugly, worldly lie. And it's only taken me way too long to figure that one out. But, I'm ok with it, because I did figure it out and now I'm able to focus my attention on things that deserve my attention. (cough cough, Jesus, cough.) And when the timing is perfect, Mr. Right will walk into the picture, preferably in a nice pair of Toms, just sayin, and life will be splendid.
But for right now, I get to work on the most important relationship in my life and I'm really excited about it. God time is good time. And I need it badly. So I can only see things going up from here. Super.
Well, this seems like a good place to leave the story for now. Until next time,
Blessings,
Liz.
*dtr is a term used by young adults in my Christian community meaning define the relationship. so there's no more awkward, "oh I think he likes me" stuff. It's typically the guy's responsibility, as a Christian, to step up to the plate and start a dtr conversation. And this time, I got lucky and had a guy with enough (excuse my language) balls to bring it up himself.
So here's thing, long story short, it's another one of those drawn out boy meets girl stories, but in this one, girl realizes she wasn't doing the right thing all along, is about to dtr* herself, and then gets dtr-ed* by the boy out of the blue after a game night at the Christian girls's campus house after church. This story doesn't end well for the girl in one way, but at the same time, it's a good thing. Confusing? Probably. Sorry bout it. I'm trying to not get too detailed here, otherwise this story would go on forever, and I would really like to keep the identity of said boy anonymous as well as possible.
If you didn't catch on here, I am girl. I got to go through that awkward moment where you're like, "no really, I talked to God and He was like, 'girl, what are you doing? I've been trying to tell you for awhile now that he's not right,'" even though you told a girl literally a week ago about your crush on this boy. But true life, I wasn't in a good place before, let's say Thursday for the sake of argument, and it wasn't until then that I realized what had been right in front of my face for, well, awhile. What's awkward now is going to be going to work and having the mother of the kids I babysit ask me questions and me having to answer, "Yeahhh about that..." I'm awkward enough without being thrown into extra awkward situations. I'm not so sure I can socially handle that one. Whatever though, I'll figure it out as I go. Hey, maybe she was right about the eyebrows and if they were nice, I would've landed the man. (Sorry, still bitter.)
Tangent. My bad. Back to business.
So where I was going with this story was that I've realized that I can't keep trying to fit World-shaped pegs into God-shaped holes. It's just one of those times in life where legitimately EVERYONE AND THEIR MOTHER is getting engaged, so it's like, oh you're 20 and not in a serious committed relationship?? What the heck?! And then you're like, shoot son, I gots ta get me a man! Which is such a lie. A big, fat, ugly, worldly lie. And it's only taken me way too long to figure that one out. But, I'm ok with it, because I did figure it out and now I'm able to focus my attention on things that deserve my attention. (cough cough, Jesus, cough.) And when the timing is perfect, Mr. Right will walk into the picture, preferably in a nice pair of Toms, just sayin, and life will be splendid.
But for right now, I get to work on the most important relationship in my life and I'm really excited about it. God time is good time. And I need it badly. So I can only see things going up from here. Super.
Well, this seems like a good place to leave the story for now. Until next time,
Blessings,
Liz.
*dtr is a term used by young adults in my Christian community meaning define the relationship. so there's no more awkward, "oh I think he likes me" stuff. It's typically the guy's responsibility, as a Christian, to step up to the plate and start a dtr conversation. And this time, I got lucky and had a guy with enough (excuse my language) balls to bring it up himself.
Monday, July 11, 2011
Welcome To The Midwest
Holy begeezus y'all. Today was a scorcher! By the time I left my apartment this morning at 8:10 am, it was already 90 degrees out. I don't think I've ever sweat more in my young adult life than at the park today while merely pushing a toddler on a swing. Call me a loser, but summer is not at all my favorite season. I would say it's spring, but heaven knows we don't even get a spring anymore. Nope. It's just freezing, freezing, freezing...oh, now it's hot, hot, hot...oh, now we'll add the humidity and call it summer. Barf. They're calling for rain tonight and I couldn't be more excited. Hopefully a little water will cool this place down a bit. (I mean, it obviously won't if I'm still living here, but...) (jk lol) (I'm so modest.)
So here's a video of a wonderful song by a wonderful artist that you should all watch because you have nothing better to do. :)
So here's a video of a wonderful song by a wonderful artist that you should all watch because you have nothing better to do. :)
Friday, July 8, 2011
That's Pretty Sketch...
Recently, I've found myself being even more attention deficit than usual. I've been so sketchy, and not in the creepy way...ok, maybe a little bit, but we're all creepers at some point or another, come on now. I've been sketching and painting things just because I have free time and, if I may, I've been getting pretty good at a few of them. Granted, mostly I only sketch at work, which means while nannying, which means most of my best work has been on a Magnadoodle and got erased by impatient kiddos all of five seconds after finishing. But those were glorious five seconds and I was proud of those sketches. I'm planning on trying to recreate some of them. Like this really sweet horse I drew while trying to emulate the knight chess piece on top of a kid's trophy.
Most of my best sketches end up on my walls. With paint. Like the other day, I drew a pretty sweet looking tree on my white board where I leave my roommates notes telling them where I am so they don't freak out. I haven't erased it yet, and I don't plan on doing so until absolutely necessary. Anyway, one afternoon I was spacing out, staring at the empty space on the wall above my computer when I thought, 'I should paint that.' So I did. I made a run to Hobby Lobby, bought some sale paint and brushes and a cheap-o palette and got started. I ended up painting a giant tree right above my bed, so it looks like the trunk is coming out of my pillows. It wraps branches over onto another wall and continues onto my ceiling, extending at least a good two feet over my bed. I inscribed the verse Colossians 1:10-11 on one of the branches, too. And with silver accents on all the branches, if I do say so myself, dang that tree looks good.
I always knew I liked to draw but I never found myself being particularly good at it, especially compared to some of my extremely gifted friends and family members. But I think this is something I'm going to try to keep up with. It's a good way to get away from the world for awhile and just let my brain create. I think next I'm going to mural some big ol' purple flowers on a wall. Should make for an fun weekend project at the very least.
Mostly, I think the point of this post is to encourage myself to be more spontaneous. To just create and not be afraid of messing up or it being ugly. Art is art. Somebody out there would probably find it super inspirational and pay big bucks to put it in their gallery full of weird abstract pieces.
Well, that's all for now folks.
Blessings,
Liz.
Most of my best sketches end up on my walls. With paint. Like the other day, I drew a pretty sweet looking tree on my white board where I leave my roommates notes telling them where I am so they don't freak out. I haven't erased it yet, and I don't plan on doing so until absolutely necessary. Anyway, one afternoon I was spacing out, staring at the empty space on the wall above my computer when I thought, 'I should paint that.' So I did. I made a run to Hobby Lobby, bought some sale paint and brushes and a cheap-o palette and got started. I ended up painting a giant tree right above my bed, so it looks like the trunk is coming out of my pillows. It wraps branches over onto another wall and continues onto my ceiling, extending at least a good two feet over my bed. I inscribed the verse Colossians 1:10-11 on one of the branches, too. And with silver accents on all the branches, if I do say so myself, dang that tree looks good.
I always knew I liked to draw but I never found myself being particularly good at it, especially compared to some of my extremely gifted friends and family members. But I think this is something I'm going to try to keep up with. It's a good way to get away from the world for awhile and just let my brain create. I think next I'm going to mural some big ol' purple flowers on a wall. Should make for an fun weekend project at the very least.
Mostly, I think the point of this post is to encourage myself to be more spontaneous. To just create and not be afraid of messing up or it being ugly. Art is art. Somebody out there would probably find it super inspirational and pay big bucks to put it in their gallery full of weird abstract pieces.
Well, that's all for now folks.
Blessings,
Liz.
Sometimes I Wish I Was British
And not just for the sweet accent. No, really, I wish I lived in England sometimes because of the fact that, well, it's in Europe. And in Europe, it's pretty easy to get from country to country traveling around, which is exactly what I would love to do while I'm still young. Maybe it's super unpatriotic of me to want to live in the country that we freed ourselves from. But then I think about it, and I really don't care.
Also, let's just be honest here. How great would it be to get the legit Harry Potter movie premieres every year?!? Yes, I am going to nerd out here for just a bit. Bear with me.
I remember very distinctly during the summer after 7th grade finding some Warner Bros casting information asking for extras for the 4th installment of Harry Potter. I immediately peed myself (sarcasm...) and ran up to my mom's office to find three good pictures I could send in with my application. Did I think about how I would get to Europe? No. Did I consider I would have to drop out of junior high, which I don't even think is legal? Definitely not. Did I realize that all of the recent pictures my mom had were of me, braces clad and hair twice the size of my head? Probably yes, but it was charming because I was only 13, right? Probably not. Anyway, I wrote out why I should be picked as an extra for the movie, filled out a super bogus resume listing the three plays I was in during 5th grade and how I was in the district choir in junior high, and addressed the envelope for Warner Bros.
True life.
I'm pretty sure my mom took that one right out of the mail before you can say, "WinGARdium LeviOsa!" And of course, she did it out of love, with the best intentions.
But really, how sweet would it have been to be at the final installment's premiere in London just earlier this week?! Maybe I'm just super nerdy and into the series, but can you honestly blame me? I grew up on those books. We read the first one in my 3rd grade class. I remember Drew Heineger's dad coming into our room, 3B at Lincoln Trail Elementary, to read us that story once a week. And it was the best treat we could've been given. Well, at least in my opinion. It was definitely the catalyst for my love of reading today though. I went through a period of time when I despised reading anything EXCEPT Harry Potter.
So of course, me and my best friends are heading up North on the 15th to catch the final movie on the big screen. I think it goes without being said that we are all beyond excited for this. (Not only because we're super nerds, but because this movie just looks so EPIC!) I have to be honest though, I don't know what I'm more excited about--the fact that I get to see this great movie or the fact that I get to spend the entire weekend with people I haven't really gotten to see all summer long, and may not see again after. I think it's a fairly equal pairing of the two, maybe a little tipped to the friends' side.
Well, that was a fairly embarrassing, not-so-lengthy post, but you get the gist. Until next time,
Blessings,
Liz.
Also, let's just be honest here. How great would it be to get the legit Harry Potter movie premieres every year?!? Yes, I am going to nerd out here for just a bit. Bear with me.
I remember very distinctly during the summer after 7th grade finding some Warner Bros casting information asking for extras for the 4th installment of Harry Potter. I immediately peed myself (sarcasm...) and ran up to my mom's office to find three good pictures I could send in with my application. Did I think about how I would get to Europe? No. Did I consider I would have to drop out of junior high, which I don't even think is legal? Definitely not. Did I realize that all of the recent pictures my mom had were of me, braces clad and hair twice the size of my head? Probably yes, but it was charming because I was only 13, right? Probably not. Anyway, I wrote out why I should be picked as an extra for the movie, filled out a super bogus resume listing the three plays I was in during 5th grade and how I was in the district choir in junior high, and addressed the envelope for Warner Bros.
True life.
I'm pretty sure my mom took that one right out of the mail before you can say, "WinGARdium LeviOsa!" And of course, she did it out of love, with the best intentions.
But really, how sweet would it have been to be at the final installment's premiere in London just earlier this week?! Maybe I'm just super nerdy and into the series, but can you honestly blame me? I grew up on those books. We read the first one in my 3rd grade class. I remember Drew Heineger's dad coming into our room, 3B at Lincoln Trail Elementary, to read us that story once a week. And it was the best treat we could've been given. Well, at least in my opinion. It was definitely the catalyst for my love of reading today though. I went through a period of time when I despised reading anything EXCEPT Harry Potter.
So of course, me and my best friends are heading up North on the 15th to catch the final movie on the big screen. I think it goes without being said that we are all beyond excited for this. (Not only because we're super nerds, but because this movie just looks so EPIC!) I have to be honest though, I don't know what I'm more excited about--the fact that I get to see this great movie or the fact that I get to spend the entire weekend with people I haven't really gotten to see all summer long, and may not see again after. I think it's a fairly equal pairing of the two, maybe a little tipped to the friends' side.
Well, that was a fairly embarrassing, not-so-lengthy post, but you get the gist. Until next time,
Blessings,
Liz.
Mornings
Good morning, all! It's a fine, sunny day here in Central Illinois and I have had the pleasure of just waking up about an hour ago. That's right, another day off of work and I couldn't be more excited for 5 days free of the 7am alarm. It was another night alone here in the apartment, meaning another quiet morning with all the shades open so the sunlight can pour in. I like it that way. Sunlight makes everything look a little prettier. Maybe it's just because it casts such great shadows on everything in the room, or maybe because I'm just nerdy and notice stuff like that. Oh, the down side of growing up with artsy parents...
Let's be real here, I am really not a morning person. Wake me up before I finish my 8 hours and I will not be a happy camper. But looking on the bright side, there are a few things about mornings that are nice, or at least make me laugh in hindsight. This first of which is how absolutely ridiculous I look when I wake up. Most mornings I don't even bother flipping the bathroom light on or looking in the mirror at all because I work full-time and 7 am is early folks! I don't think my eyeballs could handle the intensity of light coming from those two light bulbs at that hour. But today, since I don't have to work and got to wake up whenever I wanted, I flipped on the lights and WOWZA. I am a hot darn mess. But here's the kicker, it totally made me laugh. I don't think I'm very conscious of what I put on before I go to bed, as long as it's comfortable and keeps me warm enough. So today when I took a good look in the mirror I remembered my feet freezing last night and putting on my snowflake patterned fuzzy winter socks, not switching to warmer pants and instead keeping my soccer shorts on, and putting on an over-sized sweatshirt I totally nabbed from my dad's closet. It was like Risky Business meets Bend It Like Beckham meets the 90s (because really, everyone's clothes were over-sized in the 90s). And I still haven't changed. And I don't plan on it unless a certain friend returns an email saying we're hanging out tonight. Then I'll change. Well, maybe.
Another thing I love about mornings is how quiet they are here. Aside from the hum of traffic outside our window and the air conditioner softly blowing, I can actually hear myself think. Which doesn't often happen during the daytime. Especially with my job. (Nannying two little terrors who talk constantly and loudly. I literally end up talking to myself out loud because that's the only way I can hear myself think.) So this whole peaceful thing is a nice little trade-off. I can just plop down here on our living room couch and write and not worry about anything--just relax, or read, or write a bit.
Mmmm, well the coffee's a-brewin' and my stomach's a-growlin' so I'm heading out for some delicious breakfast. Until next time,
Blessings,
Liz.
Let's be real here, I am really not a morning person. Wake me up before I finish my 8 hours and I will not be a happy camper. But looking on the bright side, there are a few things about mornings that are nice, or at least make me laugh in hindsight. This first of which is how absolutely ridiculous I look when I wake up. Most mornings I don't even bother flipping the bathroom light on or looking in the mirror at all because I work full-time and 7 am is early folks! I don't think my eyeballs could handle the intensity of light coming from those two light bulbs at that hour. But today, since I don't have to work and got to wake up whenever I wanted, I flipped on the lights and WOWZA. I am a hot darn mess. But here's the kicker, it totally made me laugh. I don't think I'm very conscious of what I put on before I go to bed, as long as it's comfortable and keeps me warm enough. So today when I took a good look in the mirror I remembered my feet freezing last night and putting on my snowflake patterned fuzzy winter socks, not switching to warmer pants and instead keeping my soccer shorts on, and putting on an over-sized sweatshirt I totally nabbed from my dad's closet. It was like Risky Business meets Bend It Like Beckham meets the 90s (because really, everyone's clothes were over-sized in the 90s). And I still haven't changed. And I don't plan on it unless a certain friend returns an email saying we're hanging out tonight. Then I'll change. Well, maybe.
Another thing I love about mornings is how quiet they are here. Aside from the hum of traffic outside our window and the air conditioner softly blowing, I can actually hear myself think. Which doesn't often happen during the daytime. Especially with my job. (Nannying two little terrors who talk constantly and loudly. I literally end up talking to myself out loud because that's the only way I can hear myself think.) So this whole peaceful thing is a nice little trade-off. I can just plop down here on our living room couch and write and not worry about anything--just relax, or read, or write a bit.
Mmmm, well the coffee's a-brewin' and my stomach's a-growlin' so I'm heading out for some delicious breakfast. Until next time,
Blessings,
Liz.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Big Dreams
For as long as I can remember, I've been a dreamer. Not just the during sleep kind. No, I had my sights set high from the day I learned I could be anything I wanted to be. It started with a prima ballerina when I was just 2, it turned into a singer when I was 8, moved to a professional volleyball player when I was 12, a surgeon when I was 16, and then to a lead on Broadway when I was 17.
I like to think that I've always held onto that big dreaming persona, it's just that my big dreams have changed into things that are slightly less "exciting." Things I dream of now are things like working for God in Africa, falling in love, traveling with my future spouse, having a family, and instilling those dream-big values in my own kids someday. I suppose my alternative view on the future happened when I started to see myself as less important, and began to focus my life on others first. And honestly, until I just reread that first paragraph for any overlooked grammatical errors I hadn't realized that all my young dreams had a selfish focus. I wanted them for the prestige, the money, the lifestyle, but not for doing good for others. And that's where I'm at now. I'd rather focus my life on serving others than making it big for myself. I think deep down I've always found my joy in seeing others succeed than when I succeed myself.
Shoot, I think that's something worthy of being painted in over-sized font right above my computer so I'll look up and see it everyday, or get it tattooed on my hand or something. But hey, less is more, right? Maybe a post-it will do the trick. Remember this life is not of you, therefore it shouldn't be for you. Perfect. And all of you who are reading this, hold me accountable, got it? Thanks, loves.
Well, I was going to say more, but it just feels right to leave it here. Short, but sweet. Until next time,
Blessings,
Liz.
I like to think that I've always held onto that big dreaming persona, it's just that my big dreams have changed into things that are slightly less "exciting." Things I dream of now are things like working for God in Africa, falling in love, traveling with my future spouse, having a family, and instilling those dream-big values in my own kids someday. I suppose my alternative view on the future happened when I started to see myself as less important, and began to focus my life on others first. And honestly, until I just reread that first paragraph for any overlooked grammatical errors I hadn't realized that all my young dreams had a selfish focus. I wanted them for the prestige, the money, the lifestyle, but not for doing good for others. And that's where I'm at now. I'd rather focus my life on serving others than making it big for myself. I think deep down I've always found my joy in seeing others succeed than when I succeed myself.
Shoot, I think that's something worthy of being painted in over-sized font right above my computer so I'll look up and see it everyday, or get it tattooed on my hand or something. But hey, less is more, right? Maybe a post-it will do the trick. Remember this life is not of you, therefore it shouldn't be for you. Perfect. And all of you who are reading this, hold me accountable, got it? Thanks, loves.
Well, I was going to say more, but it just feels right to leave it here. Short, but sweet. Until next time,
Blessings,
Liz.
Under Pressure
So I think we've all heard that sweet 80s song, Under Pressure, right? If you haven't, YouTube that right now. It's a classic. Anyway, where I'm going with this is I've had a blog before that I used to update regularly with this really deep stuff, but then school started and stuff got hectic and the blog went into the, "I'll get to it eventually," pile. Then when I actually managed enough free time to write something, I felt like it had to be so profound that I got stuck. I couldn't out-do myself after particularly insightful posts. And I began to give up on it. But that's not what I want from my blog. I want it to be something I can pour myself into with whatever happened that day, whatever is on my mind, profound or rather mundane.
This is how I see it: I get enough pressure from my job, school, and my parents to feel pressured by my blog. So please forgive me for any crass remarks I may make, or any posts that may seem silly or pointless, but welcome to my life. It's not always exciting, but it's never boring, if that makes sense. I hope you stay, but I won't be offended if you leave. I do have to say, if you do stay, you just might get lucky and find a few little treasures in the occasional post with deeper meaning. Maybe you'll find yourself finding yourself alongside me finding myself. And that is the coolest thing I can hope to happen as a result from this little diary-style blog.
Blessings,
Liz
This is how I see it: I get enough pressure from my job, school, and my parents to feel pressured by my blog. So please forgive me for any crass remarks I may make, or any posts that may seem silly or pointless, but welcome to my life. It's not always exciting, but it's never boring, if that makes sense. I hope you stay, but I won't be offended if you leave. I do have to say, if you do stay, you just might get lucky and find a few little treasures in the occasional post with deeper meaning. Maybe you'll find yourself finding yourself alongside me finding myself. And that is the coolest thing I can hope to happen as a result from this little diary-style blog.
Blessings,
Liz
My Philosophy
Hey y'all. So since this is my very first post on this blog, I figured I should give some sort of an introduction to myself. This is me in a nutshell.
Before we get into the nitty gritty, I suppose I should start with the basics. I'm 20 and an official junior at Illinois State University, which I chose to attend on a whim, and haven't regretted for one second since. It's here that I've met my best friend, a girl who knows my heart better than any other person, here that I found my life's true calling, here that I've made memories I will never ever forget. I'm an apartment-living, sweet-tea-addicted, free-hand-painting, purple-loving, messy yet clean girl just trying to find her place in this big world. Man, that sounded cheesey. But hey, it's honest.
But that's just the surface stuff that you tell people when you first meet them and you have to go through that blah blah blah of small talk. Me, well I'm here, best found in the depths of my words, the breath of the pauses, the sound of the silence between the sentences. If you keep reading, I think you'll find me, the true heart of me, and I hope you like it.
I write because my heart can't contain these words and my mouth often doesn't have the courage to speak them. The things I say are honest. So take them as you will, but I hope that every time you leave, you feel something. After all, this world needs more feeling.
Blessings,
Liz.
Before we get into the nitty gritty, I suppose I should start with the basics. I'm 20 and an official junior at Illinois State University, which I chose to attend on a whim, and haven't regretted for one second since. It's here that I've met my best friend, a girl who knows my heart better than any other person, here that I found my life's true calling, here that I've made memories I will never ever forget. I'm an apartment-living, sweet-tea-addicted, free-hand-painting, purple-loving, messy yet clean girl just trying to find her place in this big world. Man, that sounded cheesey. But hey, it's honest.
But that's just the surface stuff that you tell people when you first meet them and you have to go through that blah blah blah of small talk. Me, well I'm here, best found in the depths of my words, the breath of the pauses, the sound of the silence between the sentences. If you keep reading, I think you'll find me, the true heart of me, and I hope you like it.
I write because my heart can't contain these words and my mouth often doesn't have the courage to speak them. The things I say are honest. So take them as you will, but I hope that every time you leave, you feel something. After all, this world needs more feeling.
Blessings,
Liz.
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