it's 10:04 pm. it's been a long day and i just have this urge to write. so unedited thoughts happening now.
today, a guy at church told me my combination of mustard yellow and dark purple was a "striking combination..." it was super sweet, although slightly weird because of who it came from. and somebody remembered my name from our brief meeting a month ago. i'm once again astounded how having someone simply say your name can be so heartwarming.
i'm turning seventeen in two weeks. holy crap. how even. i'm so not ready for this and yet i've never been more ready in my life.
i'm so freaking stoked for the adventures that 2015 has already promised. i'm going to meet thirty of the sweetest girls and women i've ever known. i'm going to fly to washington (after having it on the very top of my bucket list for years now) to meet these incredible women and i get to spend five days seeking the face of Jesus, cultivating deeper relationships, and learning about being an artist all in the same trip. i'm going to be headed to pensacola, florida for my high school graduation in the spring and i started all of my second/last semester classes. it's surreal that this is truly my last few months as a high-schooler. family reunions are being planned and i'm already dreaming of my driver's license and weekend camping trips this summer. along with hopefully going through a semester at ellerslie this fall.
there are so many possibilities and everything seems like a wide open slate, now i need to find the courage needed to boldly write adventures upon it.
i've been reading do hard things by the harris brothers and it's been rocking my world. i strikes absolute fear into my heart to think that i've already been alive for seventeen years and yet i feel i don't have much to show for it. but, RIGHT NOW is the exactly the time i've always dreamed of living. except i've found that the freedom i thought "growing up" is, feels a little more like a mild sense of captivity and i never imagined it would be this hard to figure out why it's so easy to cry when your life is relatively great.
i never thought i'd be so caught in this gripping fear of being hurt and being vulnerable and yet such a longing for community while figuring out how hard it is to be the one cultivating that.
yet, i think my nine year old self would be proud to know that i wear pearls now and listen to one direction without shame (okay, i don't think my nine year old self even knew that one direction existed, but whatever). i think she'd be proud to know that i'm learning to manage my wild curls (still figuring that out, but learning to embrace the messy... and frizzy) and that i wear red nail polish and sometimes red lipstick. i know she'd be proud to know that Jesus has never been more real in my heart and that sometimes simply thinking about him makes my heart almost burst from pure joy. and i bet she's proud to know that after all the pain and drama, i've learned how to rise.
it's 10:27pm and my toes are cold and my fingers tired.
