Just a thought…

It is funny how things are for us,

Some people have made rude remarks about us (my family and I) not doing anything, being little Amish home-schoolers who just read and rock the baby in our aprons all day long. Well, I’d love to be rude-remark-maker too and blow them off, but I haven’t. The truth is, if you ask one of the kids what their involved in, their response would probably be something like “Choir, Sunday School, Awana and Basketball” and people think that this is a small amount of activities, when the truth is, they’re overlooking the fact that, as my mother put it today, you have to multiply this by 10! It’s either be involved in nothing or run like crazy. So, we’re in a season of “run like crazy.”

I’ve found that the kids I know who are in public school, sports and lots of extra curricular activities are seen as “accomplished” when really I’d usually disagree. Just because Joey and Sabrina didn’t go to high school dances doesn’t mean they’re not getting married and just because they didn’t take those tests and get those grades doesn’t mean they can’t go to college if they want to or become whatever they wish to become. Anyone will tell you that they are wise beyond their years. Ha, I can’t wait to see those people who underestimated my siblings when their amazing men and women.

My brothers and sisters are far more prepared for their futures than the specific “normal kids” I know. And I don’t bash public school or volley ball teams in particular, they just go along with the life style that the average kid leads.

Personally, I prefer homeschooling. Personally I said. I am glad I am home schooled. I’d rather not spend 8 hours in a building with my peers every week day. I think that my siblings are being raised to value family much more than most people. And all those girls who have had twenty boyfriends by the time they’re fourteen-poo. Who cares? You didn’t marry any of them! None of them worked out. I’ve never dated because I’ve never met a guy I’d like to date…I can usually tell right of the bat that this guy is not right for me. And besides, at my age, most of them are still watching cartoons on Saturday mornings. ;)

I prepare for my future by writing. I want to be a writer, I practice writing and look for opportunities to make my writing known. Also, through God. At least I have time for a daily prayer time/bible study. We’re not going to get anywhere without Him. I think that I know more about God’s will for my life, about my calling than most of my friends.

By spending time with my parents they’ve implanted a love for The Lord in me and my siblings and a desire to serve him. Sometimes I feel like I am the only person in my youth group who doesn’t hate their younger siblings. Coincidence? Absolutely not. You can thank my parents for that.


The Billabong

Nearly everyday,
I find some time to sneak off to the pond. It isn’t the biggest pond, nor is it crystal clear or covered with blooming lily pads, but I have grown attached to it. It is full of turtles and minos and Bluegill and tadpoles and frogs and has a quaint looking willow and a lovely stump for sitting on and, most wonderfully, a soothing feeling that comes along with watching the ripples travel across the surface every time a little turtle head pops up or a leaf drops. It’s also in the shade, and anyone who has ever been to The Lone Star State knows what a blessing this is. Anyway, it has become a sort of haven for me. Many times, this is the chosen place for my prayer time. Today, at about four o’clock or so, I grabbed my bible (my little black travel bible is my favorite) and slid out of the house. Once at the pond I had a wonderful time. My conversation with God just went so smoothly…clearer than it had been in a long time. I then began to ponder, just thinking and wondering what The Lord had in mind for my near future and trying to notice any ways that I had overlooked him working in my life. As I did this, a little red ear slider poked up. I smile every time this happens (even if it is frequent) because I think that turtles are so cute…they always have little content smiles themselves. Anyway, I chased it with my eyes as it ducked and bubbled and popped back up again. It was in the reflections of the dark surrounding cedars until it ducked down again and popped up in the reflection of the wispy willow. The willow is not as thick as the cedars so much blue sky was shining between its branches, and when the turtle swam into this brighter reflection, I could no longer see it.
Suddenly, feeling much like a detective, I put this together as an allegory. I realized that I wanted to be just like that pond. I wanted to reflect Jesus so much, so clearly and so brightly that nobody could focus on me. What a godly little turtle that was. ;)


Simple Little Things

To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee, One clover, and a bee . . .
-Emily Dickinson
I hope that this entry finds everyone in the best of health. ;) Isn’t that a darling little bee? It looks cute in that picture with the poem beneath but it brings me less than “darling” memories. My first impression of this bee when discovered in my mother’s flower bed was that it was very photogenic, but after chasing it around the bush with a lense for ten minutes I was exhausted! The term “busy bee” was never so true. It would pose perfectly on a bloom and then as soon as I was focused, zoom off. Oh well, I hope you enjoy the picture anyway.
Yesterday my mother read to us (Sabrina, Birdie, Bunny, Sam and I) while the “babies” (who aren’t babies any longer) napped. I adore this time. It’s always a break in our day. We sit in the living room-on the couch, in the arm chairs, each of the pillows on a lap-under a chin. Someone is always without a pillow, but if we scootch together we can make due. We may fold laundry or watch the birds eating seed on the deck or play with the strings on the end of our shorts and then, Mommy sits down. Always in the brown chair. She has a glass of ice water with the folded napkin stuck to the bottom with moisture. Everyone, even the listeners clears their throat. When seating is settled she begins to read and ten eyes lock on random things as we drift into Narnia or Mandelion or London or Happy Valley. The voice goes up in down like the sway of a tree branch. A different tone for each character. And everyone is cozy and happy and listening and every one’s hearing the same thing and pondering the same mysteries and anticipating the same chapters and loving the same characters and shivering at the same villainsevery one’s content. This happens every day.
After reading, I asked to borrow my mother’s camera-seeing as I don’t have one of my own :(.
I went outside with Birdie and Bunny and Sam (it is really weird using every one’s online nicknames still) and four bowls of Blue Bell Ice Cream to sit by the pond. As soon as mine was gone I went into a photo craze! I walked all over our property and didn’t stop until the card was full. I still have no clue how long I was out there. First Birdie went inside to practice guitar, then Bunny, but Sam stayed with my and followed me around to help. He was also quite the model. ;)
Must do dishes! More later, Everly and always Pleasant


Welcome Autumn

Dearest Reader,
I think that I may actually have some inspiration for this entry but I have not yet patched it together so, if you find it choppy and awkward, I beg your pardon.
As we transition into autumn for the two thousand and seventh time, I get this feeling and identify it as negative. I get this feeling every time the seasons change, Winter to Spring, Spring to Summer, Summer to Autumn or Autumn to Winter, yet I still feel like I’ve been pricked every time this feeling occurs. It’s mostly sadness at first that Summer is over and the Summer of 2007 will never come again no matter how long I wait. That it’s not going to be summer anymore, but it’s going to be autumn and then autumn will be over and it will never come again and then winter will arrive and then leave and it’s a natural endless cycle that I can’t and shouldn’t do anything about so why should I even care?
Well, I do care every time! I am hyper-sensitive to change which is something I try to ignore, but it also does have some sane, practical, realistic sadness to it…doesn’t it? I guess when you’re a writer nothing is just practical or realistic and you get funky emotions toward everything because nothing is just a change. You see everything as a book. You think about how big the baby was when the season began. Has she grown?
You think about your friendships changing. For better or for worse?
And you analyze yourself, your age, your own changes. And really, this is pointless. It’s like trying to describe your own eyes when you can’t see them. I’ve found you can’t describe those you know best because you know every side of them, even the side that is rarely ever seen. And who do you know better than yourself? Therefore, you can never really see yourself for who you are. Are you how you should be at this age? What is a fifteen year-old supposed to do? When exactly was it that you gave up barbies? Why? It was always fun. Was it wrong to give it up? Did you do it out of peer pressure?
Then, in thinking these thoughts your tempted to change the cycle and go backwards.
And then you regret growing up. But it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t any body’s fault. It wasn’t a fault at all. It was normal. It was natural. It was necessary. Anyone and everyone changes. It’s okay. Did I just say that? ;)
But, to be totally honest, I understand. I see the positive things about aging and maturing and I look forward to the changes of my future, but then again, I will miss my young childhood on occasion. That too is natural I suppose. It’s like that song If I could by Jack Johnson. I man dies and a baby is born. Do you cry or celebrate? I little of both. With new things, old things disappear. The keyword of this entry being “natural.”
I made the mistake of watching Peter Pan the night before my thirteenth birthday. Let’s just say that many tears were shed. I am one of those people who panic at change in age as well as everything else and I waited patiently for Peter to arrive and sweep me away to Neverland, when really, I would’ve proffered “Not-yet-land.”
Though I may be the last person on earth to figure this out, good things come with time even if other good things…leave. What pains me is to think of those children who waste their childhoods trying to grow up to soon or who never form a healthy imagination. For me, I feel like shouting at all the windows in every elementary school saying: “Savor it! It’s all wonderful! It’ll end before you know it!” But I know that you can never really appreciate anything until it’s swept out from under your feet like a rug and carried off to the attic. And I guess that I would be the same as those children, wasting their childhood staring at their future, if I were to waste these years of my life staring back.
When the bible said that we shouldn’t waste, I don’t think it was referring only to food and water. I think it was also talking about time and sunshine and beautiful days and company and ages and opportunities. But, you are older than you were when you began reading this article and you will be older when you go to bed and older still when you wake up, and even if you’re 110 years old, that’s okay, and seeing as that may be the last time you wake up, don’t spend it worrying about if that’s true.
Signing out at the last 5:47 of 9/15/2007 ever,
Everly Pleasant

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