Should we up and go with him?

No way!



I conform in life. You conform in life.

It's when you swallow your opinions and beliefs for the sake of someone else, or to not offend someone else. Or because everyone else is doing something else.

Conforming isn't all bad, you know. Shutting up about how much you adore the President of France in the presence of someone who absolutely hates him is a kindness. Not being blatantly rude with the force of your opinions is just decent.

But changing the way you live? The way you think? Because it's cool? Because that's the way it's done? Because it's normal that way?

I'm sorry, but that's not okay with me.

People can say that they mean to impact culture. Great! I'm glad that they have that goal! But what do they do about it? Do exactly the same things that everyone in the culture already does, cause that's the way it's done. That's how to get popular. That's not an impact. That's becoming a chameleon.

Popularity is often the result of someone conforming. People like people that are similar to them, that don't challenge their ideas or "judge" them. Making an impact is very unpopular sometimes. Martin Luther King was killed. So was Lincoln. So were many popes. For that matter, so was God.

Conforming does not have to be to doing something that you don't like. Oh yes, you can like the thing that you're conforming to. You can like getting to see all of those cool movies or listening to that music, or going to that concert, but the fact of the matter is that we're called to something more.

I want to change the world. This weekend, I was presented with a choice. Go do something that I really wanted to do, or not do it and go for the greater good. The thing wasn't inherently bad. It even had some good parts. But when I looked at myself in real honesty, I knew that it would be an occasion of sin for me. I knew that, but I wanted to do it anyways.

So I'm not going to do it-- I'm gonna choose something different, something healthier. It's so hard to go beyond just being moral. To make an impact by being that one person who is different, who searches amid all of the muck in the world for that one bit of shine and beauty, for the great rather than the usual.

I'm not going to be popular because of these choices. But yesterday I was venting to my dad how much I hated conformism and settling for the normal, for the usual, and then I started doing the same thing and realized that I was being a hypocrite. Great move, me. I stopped partially because I felt guilty about it, but I guess that was one way that God showed me that I ought to stop.

So. Even when the situation's awfully dim and we feel that we should up and go with the other guy who's getting all the great stuff by conforming to the world, we should bite the bullet and say, "NO WAY!"

-Tina

There's more to this Brave Adventure than you'd Ever Believe!

The adventure started when you were born. Do you remember it? Do you remember that moment that spurred your adventure and your conflict? The minute you were born, you were set out as a warrior maiden or a knight to fight the evil in the world. That is your mission. That is your conflict.

We're all players in a grand dance, a great battle. In ordinary, every day life, I think that we forget that. We are charged to jump above the average standard, chase our dreams, and fight for the good.

We've got swords. We may lose them from time to time, but we know how to fight. It's ingrained in us, to be soldiers of the Most High, our commander.

The trouble comes when we desert the army. We often decide that our cause is not worth fighting for, that maybe the enemy is the one that has the right idea and that we should join him.

Some of the deserters honestly believe that. I don't doubt that. But most deserters are afraid, like deserters in the armies of the world. They know that they are called to leap beyond, to go in the storms and to get hurt for their commander. That is frightening, you know. To go with their faces firmly forward amid hail and windstorms and bullets and to never look back. The deserters don't want to do this. They would rather settle to live a common civilian life.

But no one is called to be a civilian. Our enemy is active, and he works among us to create dissent among the ranks. He fools us into thinking that we are the enemies of each other. That is false. Take up your sword and fight. It's hard, it's insane to some, and it's not what our enemy tells us is normal. But it is right.

-Tina

"Home is a boxcar, and it's so far out of reach..."

Number 1:

This is the future: I'm leaving home in four months. Four. September? Nice to meet you and then I leave you.

I'm scared, to tell the truth. The closer I get, the more real it becomes. Up until this point, it's felt like a vague excitement, not quite real. It is real, though. I'm going to leave for months and months.

Is this what college feels like at first? I'll be at a school where I know no one. I know I can make friends. I've got to trust that I can at least, or else I've got no hope and I'll feel awful about college.

I'm going to learn to do what I love. That's my consolation; and maybe, just maybe one day I'll be able to do what I love as a career. I hope so.

Number 2:

I wrote an entire power rangers TV show pilot! Of course, I'm masquerading it as something other than Power Rangers, and it'll be superior to anything that Power Rangers can churn out-- but still. It's the fulfillment of a dream, and that feels so sweet, like a taste of sugar on my lips.

Perhaps, if more dreams don't turn to dust, I'll film a short movie this summer. Oh, I hope so. I just wish that the film people of Grand Rapids would come out of the woodwork and collaborate with me. It would be so awesome if that happened.

Number 3:

I love music, and have started to like some new bands. I first started listening to Owl City about a year ago and loved "Fireflies", but that was only the tip of the iceberg. I liked some of his other stuff, but apparently it improves with age because I've fallen headfirst into an Owl City fandom in listening to his beautiful music. He's a very good artist in that he has lyrics like poetry and music that's so interestingly mixed.

Number 4:

I'm starting to be okay with not being in love or not having boys flirting with me or wanting to go on dates with me. For awhile I thought that I would cave in and break because I wasn't getting love from that outside source, from a boy-- but I've come to be satisfied by God where I am and with how I am loved right now. I've got to be satisfied with myself and the love I've got in God before a man comes into my life. Otherwise it'll be like I'm searching for fulfillment in places other than God. It'll be like I think that a boy can fulfill me and love me better than God can. That's not true, and I need to constantly learn that, every day.

So that's my life right now! I'm doing my best to finish my schoolwork so that I can be done with High School forever, but I'm dreaming of June and the time that I'll have already finished. Those daydreams make me a little less inclined to do the work I've got to do to get there. :P

Talk to ya'll later!

-Tina

I don't need a telescope to see that there's hope.

And that makes me feel brave.



There's a girl out there that needs bravery right now. Her name is Emily.

She's a beautiful girl from England who has leukemia. She went into remission for a little while early this year, but the cancer came back in March. Now the doctors are saying that they're going to stop chemotherapy because it's not working.

I don't even know her, but I'm proud of her.

She's fighting, day after day. She's living, and she's believing in God even though it's fricken hard.

Pain is in the world. Hurt is in the world. Death is in the world. We have to deal with all of them, but generally they don't hit us when we're young. They hit her, but she's living. Living to the full.

Pain is not an indicator to fall over and decide to die. Reading her blog taught me that. Neither is pain something to ignore, to pretend it's not there and blindly believe that it has to go away, it MUST go away.

Pain is hard, but it's a daily something to live with. We are not to whine. We are not to be blind. We are to trust, even when it's hard and not understandable.

This girl's simply posting made me realize that.

I'm praying for you, Emily!

-Tina

I Am A Dreamer

I spoke to the manager of a Panera Bread about my application for a job there today. Relatively normal? Yes. Normal for me? No. I've never talked to a manager before or followed up a job opportunity seriously. It was kind of scary. Thinking of working there this summer is even more scary, but I want to do it.

The reason that I want to do it is because I want to embrace life and live it to the full. I am so bad at that from day to day. See, I've got these big dreams-- really huge dreams, actually, but I don't really do much with them. I do school, go on the computer, but I do not motivate myself to go above and beyond and seize the day. I want to be a screenwriter, but when do I write screenplays? Not so much.

This should change.

Seizing the day is not living in the normal. It's living for God and fulfilling your duties in life to the fullest, and appreciate everything you've got and every opportunity you've got when it's there by taking it. That's not to say to overwork yourself, but I'm more in danger of underworking myself, of not realizing my potential. Of not realizing my dreams.

There's another connection to my post title that I found this week, and I'd like to share it with you. It's a poem.

Dreamers
by Siegfried Sassoon

Soldiers are citizens of death's grey land,
Drawing no dividend from time's tomorrows.
In the great hour of destiny they stand,
Each with his feuds, and jealousies, and sorrows.
Soldiers are sworn to action; they must win
Some flaming, fatal climax with their lives.
Soldiers are dreamers; when the guns begin
They think of firelit homes, clean beds, and wives.

I see them in foul dug-outs, gnawed by rats,
And in the ruined trenches, lashed with rain,
Dreaming of things they did with balls and bats,
And mocked by hopeless longing to regain
Bank-holidays, and picture shows, and spats,
And going to the office in the train.

-------

It's a really sad poem. It is. It makes me cry. But it throws things in perspective. Soldiers dream of doing normal things, and you better believe that if they had the chance to be home instead of on the front lines in that horror, they would live their days to the full. I want to do that, to live like everything is precious.

I want to do more than just dream. I want to act.

-Tina

I just wanna sing and dance!

Welcome to another issue of My-Niece Whenever-There-Is-Something-Worth-Writing-About!

This week we've got a special treat for you guys-- Cinderella: Sophia Style.

The main characters?

• 12 inch Barbie as the Stepmother



• 3 inch plastic doll as The Prince



• Fashion Polly Cinderella as Cinderella!

Sophia starts the action by acting out the prince; her mom acts the Stepmother and Cinderella. He finds Cinderella.

Prince: I'll jump you up on the pony!

Cinderella: Oh, how nice!

Prince: I'll see you at da ball!

Cinderella: ...I thought this was the ball.

Prince: When you hear the letter B, come to da ball!

Cinderella: Oh, ok. I'll go home now.

Cinderella goes home, but *gasp*, her stepmother finds her!

Stepmother: Cinderella, you still have to do the vacuuming and the cooking and the cleaning and all your work. Do it now!

Cinderella: Stepmother, I will, but the prince asked me to the ball and I want to go.

Stepmother: NO! I'll lock you in your room! Ha Ha Ha!

The stepmother locks Cinderella in her room, who cries for help for a few minutes but then falls silent.

Meanwhile, the prince goes to their accustomed meeting place. When he doesn't find her there, he breaks out into song:

"Cindoweeeeella! Cindoweeeella! Where are you? And we'll go to da ball and dance and find you...yeah, yeah, yeah, laaaaaaa....Cindoweeeeeellla!"

End of musical interlude.

The prince rushes to Cinderella's house to find her.

Prince: Where is Princowella? (Another word for cinderella, of course)

Stepmother: Cinderella? I don't know who you're talking about!

Prince: (momentarily confused) You know! Princowella! The one I'm gonna dance with at da ball!"

Stepmother: Oh, but I don't want you to dance with her! I want you to go to the ball with one of my own daughters!

(Brief pause while Sophia's mom tries to find girl dolls among the toys.)

Prince: (still confused) Princowella IS your daughter! You're her mothow!

Stepmother: (whilst still looking) No, she's my stepdaughter.

(Sophia's mum comes back with the perfect toy for her stepdaughter)

Anastasia:

(The old man, not the rabbits)

The watcher of this scene promptly bursts out laughing, unable to contain herself any longer.

-Tina

When You Come to Where You're Broken Within

Confession, as Catholics know the word, is not understood by most people in the world.

Really, Catholics are brought up with a mindset considered very strange. Most people don't like to be reminded that they were wrong. Even if some people are willing to admit their sin at the time it was committed, they don't want to remember it or talk about it. They want it blotted out, forever forgotten.

This impulse is natural, but Catholics make themselves remember their sins until confession, which is quite opposite from most people. We deliberately dredge up our faults from the dregs of our minds so that we can verbally confess them to the priest.

Most people shirk from both parts, for the following reasons. 1) Why do you want to keep going back to that awful thing you did, and 2) Why would you want to actually tell someone?

To the first, the benefit of remembering is very strong. If you are conscious that sin is wrong, and you are ashamed of doing it, you don't want to do it again, right? You cannot remember what you'd like to avoid doing if you can't remember what it is.

So WHY try to forget sins and sinful tendencies? To quote a book, "If there's a wasp in the room I like to be able to to see it," The natural conclusion to this is so that one can avoid the wasp. We want to know what our sins are so that we can be on the watch within ourselves for the problems that we have a tendency to fall into. That's the reason to examine and remember.

As for confessing, the genuine belief of Catholics is that God is acting through the priest. God is the one offended by our sins, so he's the one to apologize to. Therefore, if you take it that you are actually confessing to God when confessing to the priest, then we're verbally apologizing for our sins, for offending him.

Why not, though, just apologize to God silently, in a prayer in our heads?

Let’s give another example: why don’t we write someone a note to apologize for wronging them? Of course, we could. But isn’t the apology so much more tangible and personal when said face to face? And if the person has specifically asked for your apologies to come personally, then shouldn’t you oblige them if you’re really sorry?

Besides, what are we shying from in either instance? Embarrassment. An example here could be that we stole something from a person, and they haven’t noticed. It’s extremely embarrassing to let them know that we wronged them, and we wouldn’t look stupid if we just let sleeping dogs lie—but it’s the right thing to do to tell them. In the same way, we don’t want to tell someone else that we’ve messed up in confession. That’s not a good reason to forego apologizing, though.

So: the first step in apologizing is admitting to yourself that you were wrong, that your sin was wrong. The second is telling God so—admitting it to Him and apologizing.

That’s what the penitent’s side of confession is; apology. God’s side is forgiveness, and you know what is really marvelous? After we’ve confessed our sins, we can do what our instinct was to do all along: forget them. Why? Because God already did after giving His forgiveness.

-Tina