today, my grandma turned to me and asked, "how old are you now... 15 years old?"
last week, i applied at a little coffee shop in livonia. the manager thought it necessary to let me know that i had to be at least 16 to work there.
whenever i am around the middle schoolers that i volunteer with, too often another leader does a double take then laughs, "oh claire, that's you! i thought you were one of the kids."
it's not a curse, i know. just gotta keep telling myself that.
Showing posts with label lifeisfunny. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lifeisfunny. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Saturday, October 2, 2010
looking back
every once in a while i pull out my old journals. i like to read the thoughts and prayers of my simple self and my very dramatic accounts of life then. and usually something catches my eye and it becomes so clear to me how God has been preparing me for the present. he has been shaping my foolish, girlish, childish heart. dumbfounded, i am simply thankful that he is the planner, that i didn't fall in love with and marry that boy from my 9th grade biology class, that i didn't move to france right out of highschool, and that i didn't follow in that particular person's footsteps like i wanted.
i am really thankful.
probably in a few years (or months), i'll look back on my journals from now and think how very young and overly dramatic i was.
i am really thankful.
probably in a few years (or months), i'll look back on my journals from now and think how very young and overly dramatic i was.
Monday, March 1, 2010
divine intervention
Can I just say, the Lord is good. Even when I simply want to crawl back into bed, pull the covers over my face and start the day over, he is so good.
After a discouraging lunch meeting, I was feeling sick and just bad tempered in general. Sweet, hopeful Alison asked if us three girls wanted to go for a prayer walk around the neighborhood. “Ughhhhhh!” was my internal reaction. I like having a purpose, a place to go, a goal to achieve, so naturally, long (pointless) walks are not my cup of tea. But instead of voicing complaints, I simply shrugged and said, “whatever you guys want to do...” as unpleasantly as possible without being directly rude. We then set out walking, Kristan and Alison, kindly disregarding my dreadful attitude.
Alison had some back troubles from before the trip. She is doing quite well now (we are all so thankful!) but we’ve been keeping a close eye on her and one thing she has to be careful of is walking too fast. I like things fast. Patience is called a virtue. It is, however, rarely counted as one of mine. A slow, meandering walk... Again, uuughh.
As we walked, they prayed: for surrounding people, for our trip, for India. I wasn’t. My heart and mind were just so closed to the Lord. I had been walking a bit ahead of them, impatiently trying to speed up the walk. All of a sudden, I turned back to see Kristan motioning me back to where they are. Puzzled, I quickly retraced my steps and followed them into some one’s front door. “What’s going on??” almost panicking, I questioned Kristan. “She invited us in,” she replied simply.
Alvira is her name. Kind, quirky, friendly, open Alvira. She offered us coffee and orange juice. We spent two lovely hours with her, hearing her story, reading some of her poetry and sharing about ourselves.
She was a breath of fresh air. Fresh air that smacked me in the face saying, “Your crabby attitude doesn’t get in the way of My plans, Claire. I am not thrown off. In ALL things, I am creating beauty. I take your ashes and create something truly beautiful. You may get stuck in your own world of self pity and lose sight of my face, but I love you too much to give up on you. Return to me, my arms are forever open for you. You are too precious to me. It hurts my heart when you turn away. Come back, my child. here is where you are safe, here with me. This is home. Wherever you may be, when you are in my arms, held tight to my heart, you are home.
Father, forgive me. I am so weak. I let tiny things grow into enormous barriers. Thank you for your incredible grace. Thank you for overcoming sin, my sin, and humbling me gently. You rejoice to welcome me back into your arms of love. I love you.
After a discouraging lunch meeting, I was feeling sick and just bad tempered in general. Sweet, hopeful Alison asked if us three girls wanted to go for a prayer walk around the neighborhood. “Ughhhhhh!” was my internal reaction. I like having a purpose, a place to go, a goal to achieve, so naturally, long (pointless) walks are not my cup of tea. But instead of voicing complaints, I simply shrugged and said, “whatever you guys want to do...” as unpleasantly as possible without being directly rude. We then set out walking, Kristan and Alison, kindly disregarding my dreadful attitude.
Alison had some back troubles from before the trip. She is doing quite well now (we are all so thankful!) but we’ve been keeping a close eye on her and one thing she has to be careful of is walking too fast. I like things fast. Patience is called a virtue. It is, however, rarely counted as one of mine. A slow, meandering walk... Again, uuughh.
As we walked, they prayed: for surrounding people, for our trip, for India. I wasn’t. My heart and mind were just so closed to the Lord. I had been walking a bit ahead of them, impatiently trying to speed up the walk. All of a sudden, I turned back to see Kristan motioning me back to where they are. Puzzled, I quickly retraced my steps and followed them into some one’s front door. “What’s going on??” almost panicking, I questioned Kristan. “She invited us in,” she replied simply.
Alvira is her name. Kind, quirky, friendly, open Alvira. She offered us coffee and orange juice. We spent two lovely hours with her, hearing her story, reading some of her poetry and sharing about ourselves.
She was a breath of fresh air. Fresh air that smacked me in the face saying, “Your crabby attitude doesn’t get in the way of My plans, Claire. I am not thrown off. In ALL things, I am creating beauty. I take your ashes and create something truly beautiful. You may get stuck in your own world of self pity and lose sight of my face, but I love you too much to give up on you. Return to me, my arms are forever open for you. You are too precious to me. It hurts my heart when you turn away. Come back, my child. here is where you are safe, here with me. This is home. Wherever you may be, when you are in my arms, held tight to my heart, you are home.
Father, forgive me. I am so weak. I let tiny things grow into enormous barriers. Thank you for your incredible grace. Thank you for overcoming sin, my sin, and humbling me gently. You rejoice to welcome me back into your arms of love. I love you.
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