Memorial Day Weekend
May 25th - Journal Entry
(Edited)
I get lost in stories. I forget about time, I lose sense of the now, and I live in other people’s moments, and I can feel what they feel. When I see a mother lay eyes on her new baby for the first time, my heart explodes for her. When a bird swoops low over the lake and catches a fish in his claws, I catch my breath in awe of how truly beautiful this world is.
Beauty is overlooked in every aspect of life, and it’s become only acceptable to describe someone as beautiful if you’re in love with them. I think that we have lost sight of what beauty is.
Beauty is in the eyes of a mother holding her baby. Beauty is in the graceful swish of an Eagles wings. Beauty is in the vast amount of air between the moon and my front yard. Beauty is in Sey Nabou Jeuf’s eyes.
Beauty is in tears.
And trust me, I cry a lot of tears.
I cry when Mulan is fighting the Huns, and I cry when people tell their significant others that they love them in movies. I cry when it rains. I cry because my heart cries with people.
I don’t cry because I am sad.
I am not sad.
This world may not have much to offer me, but I know that God does and that is everything. I’m not sure why he gave me such feelings for people in this world, for the beautiful things in this world, but everyday when I feel my heart swelling and my eyes fill with tears that don’t always make sense, I realize that I’m just feeling what I was designed to feel.
God gave me emotions, and some may say I feel too much, I think that its for a reason. My heart physically hurts when I think about Sey Nabou, about whats going on in Africa, and I so badly want to go. I can sit at home and watch movies about Teen Pregnancy (Gimme Shelter) and I can feel bad, but the next thing I want to do is get up and do something about it. But then the harsh reality that I can’t fix a fictional character’s problems hits me and I realize that I just cried for an hour and a half over acting.
So why does my heart still hurt.
I believe that God gave me a love for people. I also believe that God gave me an eye for strange and unique things. Like that Island that Noah remembers liking as a kid. Like the furnace in my basement that captivated my attention, the way I could see into a little bitty hole in the side and see a flame burning. The way I had forts set up in the woods in my backyard that only my mind understood.
God designed my brain to be unique, to notice weird things, but most of all to feel. To truly transform my mind into “their” shoes for even just a moment, to beat just a bit louder, because I am feeling what they feel.
I want to go to Africa. I don’t want to go because it looks good, or because its easy, because the truth is this. It may sound like a nice gesture, but it is far from easy. I’m going to be bent almost to my breaking point. My heart is going to swell up much more intensely than it did at the end of Mulan. My eyes are going to fill with tears every day, and my soul is going to be continually humbled because I will continue to realize that I cannot do this on my own.
I can’t.
I look around and I see chaos everywhere. The news, the streets, in school, at church. This world has lost its sense of direction. We don’t know where we’re going, we don’t know what we’re doing. I am terrified.
God has put me here for a reason. Sey Nabou’s look in her eyes exists here. I see it in M's eyes when I hug her goodbye. I see it in S’s eyes when she thinks no one is looking. Sorrow is much deeper than the skin.
I have experienced sorrow. I know what true heart ache feels like. I know abandonment.
Maybe that’s why I cry.
I want to leave these girls knowing that they’re beauty is far beyond their outside appearance. When I die, I want to die knowing that I told everyone I could about the beauty that is found in Christ. Whether that be in Africa, or down the street from my nice house on a hill in NY.
I’m obviously an emotional person, but I want to live for a greater purpose. I refuse to live an average life. I don’t need to be remembered, but I want my purpose to be. I want what I stand for to live on in hearts of people that have experienced sorrow.
I want others to find beauty in weird things too.
Besides, we’re all weird anyway.
May 25th - Journal Entry
(Edited)
I get lost in stories. I forget about time, I lose sense of the now, and I live in other people’s moments, and I can feel what they feel. When I see a mother lay eyes on her new baby for the first time, my heart explodes for her. When a bird swoops low over the lake and catches a fish in his claws, I catch my breath in awe of how truly beautiful this world is.
Beauty is overlooked in every aspect of life, and it’s become only acceptable to describe someone as beautiful if you’re in love with them. I think that we have lost sight of what beauty is.
Beauty is in the eyes of a mother holding her baby. Beauty is in the graceful swish of an Eagles wings. Beauty is in the vast amount of air between the moon and my front yard. Beauty is in Sey Nabou Jeuf’s eyes.
Beauty is in tears.
And trust me, I cry a lot of tears.
I cry when Mulan is fighting the Huns, and I cry when people tell their significant others that they love them in movies. I cry when it rains. I cry because my heart cries with people.
I don’t cry because I am sad.
I am not sad.
This world may not have much to offer me, but I know that God does and that is everything. I’m not sure why he gave me such feelings for people in this world, for the beautiful things in this world, but everyday when I feel my heart swelling and my eyes fill with tears that don’t always make sense, I realize that I’m just feeling what I was designed to feel.
God gave me emotions, and some may say I feel too much, I think that its for a reason. My heart physically hurts when I think about Sey Nabou, about whats going on in Africa, and I so badly want to go. I can sit at home and watch movies about Teen Pregnancy (Gimme Shelter) and I can feel bad, but the next thing I want to do is get up and do something about it. But then the harsh reality that I can’t fix a fictional character’s problems hits me and I realize that I just cried for an hour and a half over acting.
So why does my heart still hurt.
I believe that God gave me a love for people. I also believe that God gave me an eye for strange and unique things. Like that Island that Noah remembers liking as a kid. Like the furnace in my basement that captivated my attention, the way I could see into a little bitty hole in the side and see a flame burning. The way I had forts set up in the woods in my backyard that only my mind understood.
God designed my brain to be unique, to notice weird things, but most of all to feel. To truly transform my mind into “their” shoes for even just a moment, to beat just a bit louder, because I am feeling what they feel.
I want to go to Africa. I don’t want to go because it looks good, or because its easy, because the truth is this. It may sound like a nice gesture, but it is far from easy. I’m going to be bent almost to my breaking point. My heart is going to swell up much more intensely than it did at the end of Mulan. My eyes are going to fill with tears every day, and my soul is going to be continually humbled because I will continue to realize that I cannot do this on my own.
I can’t.
I look around and I see chaos everywhere. The news, the streets, in school, at church. This world has lost its sense of direction. We don’t know where we’re going, we don’t know what we’re doing. I am terrified.
God has put me here for a reason. Sey Nabou’s look in her eyes exists here. I see it in M's eyes when I hug her goodbye. I see it in S’s eyes when she thinks no one is looking. Sorrow is much deeper than the skin.
I have experienced sorrow. I know what true heart ache feels like. I know abandonment.
Maybe that’s why I cry.
I want to leave these girls knowing that they’re beauty is far beyond their outside appearance. When I die, I want to die knowing that I told everyone I could about the beauty that is found in Christ. Whether that be in Africa, or down the street from my nice house on a hill in NY.
I’m obviously an emotional person, but I want to live for a greater purpose. I refuse to live an average life. I don’t need to be remembered, but I want my purpose to be. I want what I stand for to live on in hearts of people that have experienced sorrow.
I want others to find beauty in weird things too.
Besides, we’re all weird anyway.