Not a Perfect Posture, But Pure Transparency

I’ve been meaning to write this for a long time. Really, for the last two months, but to me, it felt like an eternity. Being dishonest with anything, especially my well being, is exhausting.

I am by nature a very honest person…so I apologize if our conversations have consisted of the following:

“How are you?”

“I’m alright.”

“Just alright?”

“It’s a long story.”

“It’s a long story” is code for “I don’t want to talk about it” to everybody but the socially unaware.

There’s no easy or politically correct way to say it, so I’ll tell the long story.

I was having a rough day, and like any climax of a rough day, I broke down in tears. I told myself that it was just a series of events that were unfavorable, but I couldn’t remember the last time I didn’t label the overall feeling of a day as “rough.” I couldn’t remember the last day I hadn’t cried. We’re not talking, “Aw Marley and Me is so sad,” cried. We’re talking, “This sucks. I’m frustrated, angry, upset, etc.”

And instead of a quick couple of tears, I sobbed. I sobbed so hard I struggled to breathe—heaving shoulders, quivering lip, and bloodshot eyes SOBBING. I had suddenly snapped from tough day sniffles to sheer hopelessness.

Why am I such a failure?

I can’t do a single thing right.

I have so many expectations of me and I can’t meet any of them in the least.

People have WAY more on their plate and they don’t struggle.

I don’t see them cry or even quiver. They go on, head held high, making 4.0’s and being happy. They make it look almost easy.

I have no reason to feel this way.

I’m overreacting.

What’s wrong with me?

The negative thoughts multiplied and worsened, until I wanted to give up. Not just on school, or work, or paying bills, etc., but on being myself. Just functioning was far too hard. I could feel the vultures circling, waiting for me to lay down and give up. Luckily (and I mean by the grace of God), I realized I desperately needed help. I told a close friend how I was feeling...and when I say told, it was really more like a slur of words and sobs.

I can’t concentrate on anything.

I have no motivation to do anything.

I always feel tired, no matter how much I sleep.

I struggle to get out of bed every single day.

I dread going to bed every night because of it.

I always feel hungry, no matter how much I eat.

I cry at least once, every day.

I feel completely alone.

I don’t see anything ever getting better.

And that’s when she dropped the bomb that shut me down mentally.

“Have you considered that it could be depression?”

Nope, no, never, not me. Nothing’s wrong with me. Depression is for other people, not for me. 

And then I considered it. And I recalled some of the symptoms. Seriously, it’s hard to say “No, that’s not me” when you fit 99% of the symptoms.

The counselor said, “Yes. Depression.”

The doctor said, “Yes. Depression.”

There was some kind of twisted relief I found in having a label for it. I found comfort knowing that other people had felt the way I was feeling—hopeless, alone, for lack of a better word, malfunctioning. I can’t express the overwhelming desire to fix myself. I thought, “Surely, feeling nothing would be better than this.” Medication “helped”, only by making me feel completely void of emotion. It left me sleeping like a rock at night and completely WIRED during the day. As awesome as that sounds to a college student drowning in her emotions, it was terrible. I hated the way it made me feel.

Long story short, I made some serious life changes to start taking care of myself. Instead of self-medicating on top of anti-depressants, I looked to God. And God basically paved the road for me, getting all my ducks in a row to have a healthy life.

Since we’re being honest, I’m still working through depression. I’m still seeking God through this process. As dark as it’s been, I have never felt so assured that God would use this time in my life to bring healing to other people. I have an even greater amount of compassion for the depressed and suicidal, having experienced it myself.

And that’s where my explanation ends.

The reason I wrote this blog wasn’t just to catch all my Facebook friends up to date on my life.

I wish somebody had told me that it’s okay. Everything looks bleak, but you are not alone. Approximately 10% of people suffer from depression…but when you’re at the bottom of the deepest hole in which you’ve ever been, you might as well be the only person ever diagnosed with depression.

And what sucks is that nobody talks about it. They suffer in silence, through hopelessness and loneliness, until maybe the clouds decide to clear.

This may just be my opinion, but fear is what keeps us from talking.

Oh, but they’ll judge me.

They’ll never look at me the same way.

They’ll pity me.

They’ll rule me out as suicidal and put me in a hospital.

I can tell you that I let fear rule my mind and my life and I’m finished. If somebody is going to pity me because I’m depressed, so be it.

I am willing to risk my reputation for healing. I want to be the one to step out and be vulnerable so somebody else doesn’t feel so alone. Every time I have talked to somebody about depression, they have been nothing but loving and accepting toward me.

To anybody reading this post:

I can tell you that I don’t know exactly how you feel. You may have the same feelings of hopelessness, but they make look different than mine. You may be unable to sleep and unable to eat.

If you need help, PLEASE get it. Acknowledging that there is something wrong is the first step to fixing it. You don’t have to be a hero.  And you certainly don’t have to walk through this alone.

If you get to the point where your thoughts start to scare you or you feel suicidal in the least, immediately get somebody. And if there’s nobody there to help you, call a suicide hotline.

Though it may not feel like it right now, you have people to support you. They may be your parents, friends, pastors, or a counselor.

And I cannot stress enough that you are NEVER alone. You have a savior that promised never to leave you.

If you need somebody to be honest with, whoever you are, I am here for you—to cry, to pray, to talk or just to relate to.

“But as for me, I will look to the Lord;

I will wait for the God of my salvation;

My God will hear me.

Rejoice not over me, O my enemy;

When I fall, I shall rise;

When I sit in darkness;

The Lord will be a light to me.”

Micah 7:7,8

-Leah

P.s.- this blog post about depression really helped me

Why Is Everything So Hard?

Dusting off the blogger due to Mahlet's inspiration. Ahem.

If I could count the number of times I've asked myself/God/Johnny in a deep conversation why everything is so hard, I'd need some sort of calculator.....and I'm pretty good at counting.

This phrase is usually uttered in the midst of a pity party, caused by the straw that not only broke the camel's back, but also caused the camel to re-evaluate his life, as well.

And if I had an answer to why life is so hard, I'd be rollin in the dough earned by an award-winning self-help book. 

I don't know if it's just me, but I feel as thought trouble and trial come paired together in a snowball; A snowball that seems small and manageable to push at first, but turns into a terrorizing, out of control ball of death right on your heels. I complain to Johnny, "life never gets any easier" and as if to answer my own question, I think, "Why would it?"

When you're the first kid to lose a tooth (without having any knowledge about the matter), wouldn't you be FREAKING OUT?

Like, oh my goodness, MY TEETH ARE COMING OUT. How am I gonna chew? How am I gonna make friends? Nobody likes a toothless kid....I'm never gonna be successful. Have you ever seen a doctor or an astronaut with NO TEETH?

How many people will tell you to stop freaking out, new ones will grow in? A couple. 

How many people will get SO excited? Seriously EVERYBODY.

It's a milestone. It shows growth. And when all the teeth have fallen out, you're grown.
This metaphor/analogy/parable could go on for years. But I think you get the point.
Difficulty in life shouldn't be looked at with fear and shame. It should be anticipated and even celebrated...it shows growth. So why should it get any easier? Why would I WANT it to get easier? So I can stop growing and be complacent?
Sometimes you have to be the first kid to lose a tooth...to show the younger ones that it's nothing out of the ordinary. This happens to everybody who grows. It's good, it's healthy.
So many people will learn from you being the "first" to experience something.
With that, I end with a little thing that always makes me feel better.
The Bible says, "when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand."I have no option of giving up. I can either wallow in fear, confusion, and self-pity, THEN get up and keep going....OR I can just keep going. Why would I waste time wallowing when I can get ahead?


Difficulty brings growth...usually a whole lot faster than anticipated.


Leah

Finals!

I feel like we start talking about finals right after we unpack our dorms on the first day of school. Finals are a BIG DEAL. Almost too big of a deal. People go crazy. And I'm like, people, c'mon. It's a test. When you apply for a job at a Fortune 500 company, they're not going to be rifling through your individual class grades.
Can I get an amen? Yes, do well. Yes, grades do matter.
Sanity > Studying.
Don't use that as an excuse not to study. Now. On to my points!
I have a whiteboard outside of my room. Usually looking like this!

Well. That was a couple weekends ago. That's a funny story you should ask me about.
But right now, it's a fantastically drawn replica of me and Jaymi (my roommate), whom I love.
See that piece of paper in the corner? Bottom left?
That's the finals schedule I posted over a month ago.
I was like...why don't people ever read it? I put it there so people would know when their finals are, because I freaked out about when to go home, when to study, etc, since I didn't have this schedule until my lovely neighbor Tiffany let me photocopy hers. This week, I realized just about every person on my hall has looked at it and it's helped. Yesterday I was returning from my shower and three girls were crowded around it. They were like, yeah! I didn't know when my finals were! Thank you!
Today, a couple girls I was eating with were like, "Yeah! I look at it whenever I take out my trash!" (Because I live right by the trash chute. Which. Yeah. Don't live by the trash chute.)
And with that, I address my last post. I posted it and waited for the calls that were like, "DON'T DO IT LEAH! DON'T JUMP!" And nobody said anything at first. I thought, okay, I just spilled my emotions all over the internet. Great. Nobody cares, and on top of that, my pouring my heart out was worth nothing. Funny how God works. A couple people talked to me about it. Not the, "oh, I hope things go better. That happened to me once and I got over it." To that, I feel the need to put this face: o___O
People who said, "You legitimately put what I was feeling into words."
And it breaks my heart, but I'm SO glad. This is a regeneration for us. I'm so excited. The path to wholeness is brokenness...not just cracks, but a shattering, until there's nothing left to stand on.
I had gotten to the point where every day was "just a rough day." People frustrated me. I frustrated myself.
But it was good. It was the first step of a rebuilding I've been needing for a long time.
I also realized how beautiful and helpful honesty and vulnerability can be. You never know who says the same prayers of frustration, or who cries about the same things, or just struggles with the same things in general.
And I'm glad that through my frustration and brokenness, people are helped.
So, thank you guys, for reading. And I hope I can be here to help you out.

Love,
Leah

And Here I Am Again, But This Time, Much More Tired

You probably looked at your timeline and thought, "elevation? LPT? Who is that? Did I forget about a blog I followed on a whim?"
No. It's me....back again.
I feel like that ring at the doorbell in the middle of the night. You open your door to a sopping wet, crying Leah, suitcases and all, standing in the pouring rain.
You don't ask questions like, "Why don't you have an umbrella? What are you doing here?" You just don't say anything. You show me a bed and I sleep. Not just the normal time, but an abnormally long time, like I haven't slept in weeks.
And that's how I feel. Broken down and tired. Everything has built up and I just want to go home.
Here you think, "Not ORU? You want to come back?"
The answer to that: No/I don't know.
I don't know where home is anymore. I don't know who home is anymore. I thought going to college would solve my life...that everything would work out and I would finally be content in what I'm doing and where I am.
I'll tell you that, right now, that's the exact opposite. I have no idea what I'm doing. I follow what I think to be God's voice and it ends me up in a ditch. I don't know what I want anymore.
I asked a girl on my floor to answer the question, "When you think of Leah, what do you think of?"
She answered, "I think of a girl who's a lot of fun. She has everything in place and she has it all together..."
to which I replied, "Are you serious?"
I'm a bummer. A day doesn't go by where I don't offend somebody and get called a jerk (rude, mean, etc.). I cry ALL THE TIME. I have nothing together. I hold on to the strings of God's promises and that's all that's holding me up. I've changed my major after a half-semester of college, and I'm hoping and praying I don't have to change it again. I have very few friends, since a lot of the people I thought were my friends found better people. I can't wait to go home, yet, when I get home, I want to come back. Like I said....I don't know where home is. When I'm in Tulsa, home is "Metro Denver." When I'm in Highlands Ranch, my home is "Frances 813."
And you'd think this is where I'm like WAIT UP here's what God says!
But.......you're wrong.
I feel like a broken down car...I'm missing my doors, my engine is shot, rust consumes every single inch. To many, it wouldn't be worth it to rescue. Just buy a new car.
I guess this is my season of repair. I'm being stripped down to the very frame, and being made new. And it sucks. It hurts and it's tormenting. I don't like it. I don't just dislike it, I hate it. I'm ready to tap out and be done. It doesn't feel worth it.
But somehow, it is. And I'm working on it.

Love,
Leah

Giving All I Am to Seek Your Face

Three years ago almost exactly, I heard a song that I hardly knew would change my life. There were no TV's being run with words by the A/V team, and I felt like everybody knew the words but me. I had never heard it before, but the words sounded like they were written in a letter....a letter written by me. The verse would pass as I absorbed the words, running over them in my head like they were vital pieces of my life, needing to be memorized and repeatedly rehearsed.
I stood in the middle of a crowd, wearing shorts and a quiksilver tshirt, hair cut short and tears running down my face, lifting my hands for the first time. They weren't above my head, or even extended. Just bent at the elbow, palms lifted. For others it may have been just another worship song, but for me, it was the start of a whole new life...full of hope and a future. I was leaving behind unhappiness, loneliness, and despair.
Three years later, I stood on the stage of a chapel, choking back tears as I started the first line.
Falling on my knees in worship....
And I envisioned myself as a scared 15 year old, eyes swollen from crying, beginning the journey of the straight and narrow. I believed what people had told me. God loved me, He had a plan for my life, and I had to accept it.
And as I sang the second line, I was brought back to the same place.
Giving all I am to seek Your face....
I was finding God for myself all over again. I was reminded that worship is not singing on a stage, it's not leading a band, and it's not receiving recognition. It's a condition of the heart.
They journey of three years revolved around one song...like getting back to the original mission statement written the first week of a company after its earned billions of dollars.

God consistently reminds me of how awesome He is, and how far I'd be without Him...which is nowhere. I'm so glad I've set up stones to remind me of God's many miracles and blessings.

You say You want all of me, I wouldn't have it any other way

Gosh, I hate the term worry-wart (mostly because warts are gross, ew)...but it sometimes describes me perfectly. And I hate it. When everything seems to push me at the same time, I worry about things that are completely beyond my control, then I get all irritable and it always ends in a puddle of tears. As much as I love crying, I don't.
I have to be constantly reminded that everything is beyond my control and will work for good, no matter how deep the pit or how dark the cave. And when I say constantly, I mean like 10,000,000 times a day. At least I'm aware of it, right?
I'm sorry for the really short posts lately. Just little tidbits for y'all.
Worrying is no way to solve anything! I'd give you a bible verse about worry, but there's like a bajillion of them. So. Maybe some other time.

Official countdown to ORU is 11 days, for all the people who seem to ask. Worried, terrified, excited...you know. That's me.


Leah

And You are God, forever You will reign.

Church camp is ten days away, and I'm absolutely STOKED. And I only use the word stoked when I'm really excited, because I sound like I should be carrying a longboard around. Anyway. I think God creates a spirit of expectancy in myself (I don't know about everybody else) before these camps...but this year feels different. It's been spoken prophetically that this camp would start a revolution, and I fully believe it. I may not be there for this revolution or be a big part of the development, but I love knowing that God has placed me as the kindling to get it going.
I was just reading up on Hillsong United (the band, if you don't know them, LOOK THEM UP!) and read about how they started the actual band after a summer camp revival in 1998. And I'm feelin it. 2011 will be the new 1998, and I'm so excited.
I can't imagine how God's spirit will move, but that just gets me more ecstatic!
Sorry this post is so short, but I just had to vent my excitement! EEP! Pray for us and that we will see His miraculous power!

Leah

Caught Up in Grace Like An Avalanche

Take my life, Take all that I am
With all that I am, I will love you.
Take my heart, Take all that I am,
Jesus, how I adore You.

So, if we are friends on facebook or you follow me on twitter (by the way, @lovelyuhhh), you know my whole struggle in finding a roommate and the stress and pain it's caused me. Basically, I had a room, then was kinda forced out of it, leaving me without a room for two or three weeks. And it has only REALLY stressed me out for the past two or three days, since I realized that there were no rooms left. I would check back four or five times a day, and still to no avail.
If you ever wanna stress yourself out, go to college. Legit.
Yesterday during prayer, "Awesome God" came on. And if you've even heard of the word "Church," you know the song "Awesome God" like you wrote it yourself.
You know.
"Our God is an awesome God 
He reigns from Heaven above
with wisdom, power, and love
Our God is an awesome God"


And I just got stuck on wisdom. And I was directed right back to the purpose of my whole expedition to ORU. I had one of those mind-conversations with God.
"Is it to live and have a roommate? Is it to have loans? I mean, yeah, you're going to have all of them, but is that the core reason you're doing all this, just to do it?"
"Well, no. It's not."
"And what is?" (Like the all knowing Parent he is!)
"Worship."
I've allowed myself to be caught up in confusion, complication, and worrying. I've tried to work it out on my own and haven't had the right focus. So yesterday, I just told Him I was gonna let it go. Worrying won't the outcome be any better, so why do it?
And you know what happened today? I did my routine check of the housing website, and there were two rooms open. One, 812, with a girl already living in it. Then there was 813, a completely empty room. You better believe I was the first occupant of 813. And now, a girl named Jaymi has reserved the room too.
So, if you could, fellow bloggers (and my lovers), please pray that I LOVE this girl and everything works out.

I guess my long-winded lesson of this blog post is...re-focus. Like Pastor Nate talked about. Choose to focus not on the drama and complications, but on your passion for worship. Not on the difficulty of your life, but your eternal reward. Not the people that continually disappoint us, but on Jesus himself!

Love you guys. Have a good day =)
Leah

And Then There Were None

"Like some days you might say something stupid, and that's the part of you that's still ten. 
Or maybe some days you might need to sit on your mama's lap because you're scared, 
and that's the part of you that's five. And maybe one day when you're all grown up maybe 
you will need to cry like if you're three, and that's okay. That's what I tell Mama when 
she's sad and needs to cry. Maybe she's feeling three"
I never know what to say anymore. I'm eighteen and well on my way to flying the coop, and I still feel like a fourteen year old having nightmares about my first day of high school. It's scary. And as much as people tell me that I'm ready for this shift in seasons, I'm not.  I don't think I ever am. Discomfort is where God has free reign, and I guess what scares me is that if He has full reign, I don't have any. At all.
It's kind of like, you know, when you're riding your bike down a steep hill, and you keep picking up speed...and more speed, and even more until you're holding on for dear life and thinking about which bandaids you'll be picking out in a few minutes. That's how I feel. Picking up that kinda speed is exhilarating, but holy crap if I don't pee my pants, I don't know what'll happen!
I guess this is me just expressing my thoughts. The stupid part of me that's still 14. And that's okay.

I Am Second

"God came and wept with me on that floor."
Seconds - I Am Second

I Will Rejoice, I Will Declare...

God is MY victory, and He is here.


If you haven't heard "Desert Song" by Hillsong United, you must. It's one of those songs that gets me wherever I am. You know, the ones you listen to at different times in your life and just come back to the same place. For this song, and for me, it's a song of constant praise.
And this is my prayer in the battle
And triumph is still on it's way
I am a conqueror and co-heir with Christ
So firm on His promise I'll stand
If you've never heard this song...please, look it up. Buy it off i-tunes.
I don't know who I'm talking to when I say this. I know that each blog post doesn't relate to the every person in the same way.
But for me, I constantly feel like I'm fighting a losing battle. It's so true that I even got a word on it. It's funny the prophetic words God will bring to my memory...He knows exactly when I need them. But I was told "You feel like you're constantly fighting and losing. You fight a battle and feel like you've won, then you go back and fight and lose. And you fight and win, then go back and lose."
By this time in the prophetic word, I'm bawling my eyes out. When God gets right up in your face and says "My love, I've been here all along. You don't have to tell me where you are and what you're doing...because I know." Kind of like, you know, when you open the door to your mom's room with tears streaming down your face. You walk up to her, sink your head into her shoulder, and just start crying. No words...and she knows. She knows why you're crying, and knows what you need. Just to be held. To be loved.
God's more than that. He finds me (not in a way like I've been hiding or He hasn't been there all along). He reveals Himself and soothes my aches. He holds me when I cry, and just....lets me. He lets me cry. He lets me realize. Then He picks me up, brushes me off, gives me a hug, and sends me off into the next big challenge. Sorry I kinda got off on a rant. Bringing it back....
But in this moment, I felt a weird peace about losing all the time. I wasn't losing. I think it's a war being fought like the Revolutionary. BAM. Stab. Dead. BAM. Stab. Cannon. Explode. Death.
It's really like World War 2. Though on one front, the odds are against you. And the enemy feels like he's winning. And he's not. A battle is not the war. Sure, I'll suffer some wounds. And by "sure" I mean "yes, I will most definitely...multiple times..." But these wounds are training. God is training me to help others fight their battles, too. 
Sure, I may lose fights. I may suffer wounds. But I, we, will win so many battles...God has promised us victory. God's promise isn't a weather report...it's not a prediction...and it's most definitely not just based on probability. It is. It's 100% right. All the time.
I hope this encourages you. Though you may feel like you're losing a battle, like God has forgotten His promise...He's not finished. He may be fighting against something you're not even aware of.


Love, Leah


p.s.-Check out the new widgets in the top right corner! A link to the lovely Abby's Robots in Trouble and the top five most popular posts of my blog! Woo!

In My Life, Be Lifted High

So. We went to Ridgeview detention center yesterday. Why I'm mentioning that, I don't know, since most of the people who read my blog were there.But if you weren't there, it's just that...a detention center. It's in the middle of NOWHERE in Aurora, and it looks like a high school. A really nice college-looking high school. We had service and I gave my testimony. Which is funny.
Funny in a kind of like "that's weird, and it's not a bad thing" way. I cried giving my testimony, and I can't tell you why....well, it was because I talked about feeling alone, worthless, and more alone. And crying myself to sleep. And just sitting and crying. To anybody who hasn't heard this (or to those who have heard this many times like Emnet [I've heard this four times and it GETS ME EVERY TIME]), I'm not that way anymore (Don't get me wrong, it's not bad to cry. It's absolutely healthy). I didn't find God, and He didn't find me. He was there all along, I had just never noticed. If you ever want the full story, lemme know. I can most DEFINITELY tell you!
But preparing for this day, I was like "Gosh, God, what do I talk about?" These guys go through more than I could imagine, and yet I'm supposed to encourage them with my life story. God revealed to me that though we may not have the same circumstances, we have the same insecurities, fears, and feelings. So I told them the truth. And that was all. Nobody likes to admit that they didn't find self-worth, that they cried themselves to sleep, or even lost everything. Not to these guys who know how it feels, but to the people that see me at least every week and have no idea. And I'll be real honest, gossip's no fun. That's all I'll say about that.
But this kid came up to me after, his name's Tyler, and he was addicted to heroin. And he said "You should talk to heroin addicts. It's a dark and lonely place, and crying yourself to sleep happens often."
I was just like, whoa. Leah, who really doesn't even know what heroin looks like, should minister to people who are addicts. WEIRD.
So I guess I'm realizing that God uses us in the strangest ways. And it's awesome. It just takes a willing vessel. And like the title, I hope He's lifted high in everything I do.

Love, Leah

He ate a slice of wonderbread

Can I just say...you guys are ROCKING lately with the blog views!
Call me human...but I LOVE when people read my blog! The more people like my blog, the more I write.
You know. Makes me feel like I matter and stuff =)
And leave comments, ask questions, whatever! I am always here to talk about faith, life, and whatever else you want to talk about.
Okay, guys, that's all. I love you.


Leah

Shining like fireworks over your sad, empty town

Sorry for all the posts lately...but I know there are a few people who are like "OHEMGEE I GOT SO EXCITED YOU POSTEEEDD!" Mostly just Emnet, who also has a lovely blog.
I guess I'm kind of realizing how much influence I really have. I am in NO way saying "Oh, I tell people to do things and they just DO them. I get what I want!" Because. Yeah. That's not me.
But I'm also realizing who's really watching. Cue creeper music. Not really. But, you never know who's listening. You never know who watches your littlest action, aspiring to do something you do.
A youth leader was talking to us girls the other day and told us that after being out of high school for ten years, one of her friends became a born again believer...and she asked this leader "Why didn't you tell me? I could've lived these ten years right." And she just kept saying "I thought you knew. I didn't wanna push it."
Who's close to the edge? I know I say this a lot, but this was in a blog post quite a few back...you never know who's teetering, close to the edge. Whether the edge is crying, running away, or killing themselves. You also never know who's that close to grabbing on to the lifeline we offer. And I can't urge this enough.
If you search through the archives of e l e v a t i o n, you'll find my Genesis essay, about why I am who I am. And writing it, Mr. Larson told me that kids have trouble writing that essay because they feel like they have no explanation, and nothing to say about their lives.
NOTHING? You've lived 17 years and have nothing to say? No. I have much to say. I have evidence of God's mercy, His love, and His miracles. If I have a voice, I'm going to use it. And I do. And I'm going to. Not just for one venue, but many.

I urge you to do the same. Live Him. And that may not make sense, but please. Think about it. Live Him. Everything He is. Love. Mercy. Forgiveness.

Love, Leah

And for Abby, who asked if I can sing!

Here's a performance from graduation



And here's one from my guitar class' concert.


And I give you these to draw your own conclusion =)

By the way, I have two names to drop:
First, Abby. I love her writing and her little plush/keychain shop is having a giveaway! Which I don't want you to enter, since I'd like to win, but, hey, here's some mercy.
Second, Emma. She's on a trip to Guatemala right now. Anddddd I love her. So.

Show these two some love!

There's no greater love than this

Hey. I'm gonna write my first real blog in a long time.
I was reading this chapter in John...John 17. And all it is is Jesus talking to God. Which I think is really cool.
And in the pre-passage message of my devotional, Max Lucado wrote "Once upon a tree, a Creator gave His life for creation."
And like, I know that, but somehow, the revelation's gotten deeper for me lately. You know that one song that's like "I would take a bullet fooorr you" as in Jesus? It's kind of like, "Really? Only a bullet? C'mon."
And I talked about this in my Easter post. About how he carried the cross the whole way. But. Just hear me out and humor me.
Jesus could've just died. He could've been shot (aside from the fact that they didn't have guns), he could've just been be-headed...but no. He was whipped, beaten, carried a cross for longer than I can probably run, and hung on a cross with metal driven through his flesh. He could've just done it. Gotten through it. But He didn't. He suffered, He cried, He was in agony, and He finally died.
Whenever I watch The Passion of the Christ, I'm just like "C'mon, Jesus, just die already!" And by just die already, I mean I cant bear to watch Him suffer. And it's because I think "Jesus, I'm not worth it. I'm not worth the pain." I don't know if I'm the only one who feels this way. Jesus, I'm not worth it. You, who was flawless and without sin, dying for me, who has done so much not to deserve it. To deserve You.
The other day in choir, Ms. Milli was talking about the same thing. She said when the enemy comes and says "You can't do anything. You're a failure. You're no superhero" and I say "Yes, you're right," Jesus says "No. You're worth every second of suffering. You're my superhero."
Just to think....that Jesus puts me above Himself. He thinks I'm better than life itself.
I deserved death. I still do. And He didn't have to take it for me....but He did.

And that is true love.

Love,
Leah

VLOG!

Sorry it's a little random, guys. I gotta get used to this! And if you'd like to visit the people's blogs that I mentioned in the video, here's Sydney's and here's Aundi's.

Hey Remember Me???

Hi guys!
I know. I'm unfaithful to my blog. Don't make me sing Rhianna.
Btdubs. If you want to listen to one of my favorite oldies-secular songs, listen to "Rhiannon" by Fleetwood Mac. I like this song so much, I'm thinkin' Rhiannon as a middle name for a future child.
Anyway. I have a proposal. Not of marriage, don't be alarmed.

Vlog. What do you think? Video blog. I just got a new laptop, so hopefully I'll be on here a little more than usual. Kay. Comment with opinions =)

To warn you, a vlog may make me a little more random than usual. Maybe we'll test it out and see how it goes, and if it doesn't work out, we'll go back to a regular ol' blog. But I still feel like you guys have so much more to say than me! Oh well.

Comment. Let your opinions be known! It's rare for people to ask for opinions. So. Take this opportunity. SEIZE IT! SEIZE IT!

Love,
Leah

It's been two months.

I'm sorry, my loves. I feel like I have no time left in my life for anything! Summer is coming up and I hope that it will change my availability, not to mention the fact that I deleted my twitter and tumblr.
Blogspot > Tumblr. All day every day.
So. Today is Easter, and I have to get used to writing coherently again. For a while, I'll probably use a lot of so and anyway.
Easter. Bam. I was sitting with the lovely Sydney Ilg for Good Friday service, and they played clips of The Passion. Every time, I LOSE it. Like, sniffling, teary eyes, choked up. And sometimes I think of blog posts, then I realize that it's a revelation that everyone's already gotten. This is a post for me to try to express the revelation I've been given, even if everybody already knows.
Jesus. Dying. Every time somebody tries to express this, I think of those people that have signs outside of Rockies games saying, "JESUS SAVES" or "JOHN 3:16." And I think of children. As a child, I thought Jesus was just kind of taped to a cross wearing his loincloth and looking to Heaven. He just walked up to the cross, they stuck him on there, and he died.
And somehow, it took me until now to realize just how much He loves me. He moaned and cried. His back was beaten to a bloody pulp, his face unrecognizable. He carried His cross up to calvary, and was nailed to it.
What I'd never thought about before...He carried His cross the entire way. It wasn't made out of Styrofoam, cardboard, or a hollowed tree. This cross was as large as he was. It was heavy and it had splinters. A man carrying a cross like his is pretty impressive in itself.
After being whipped, beaten bloody, and left half-dead, He carried it. He was mocked, denied, and hated. He still carried it.
Christianity has made the cross to be our symbol, but I don't think (just from my perspective) we imagine a bloody cross every time we see the white t. I'd like to change that. So, every time I see a cross, I want to think to being on the verge of tears. I want to remember entirely what Jesus did, and celebrate his resurrection every day.
I've been wearing my faith bandz (silly bandz--christian style) since Christmas. I wear the same one, all the time. It's three nails, and I think it's made me realize something. When I first started wearing it, it got in the way, I noticed it quite often, and I got asked about it. As I wore it for a longer period of time, it became just a part of every outfit. I would forget about it, and only get asked about it every once and a while. I think it's the same with Christianity. We see the bummers (no partying, guilt, whatnot), but we're new to it, so we don't mind. The good WAY outweighs the bad. People asks what's changed, and we tell them it's Jesus.
I don't want my faith to be like that anymore.
Well, I'm done writing. I'll write hopefully soon!

Love,
Leah

For You, my God, are greater still.

I'm giving up on that 30 blogs thing. I hope somebody else out there copies it and comes through with it!

It's funny how much I've come to focus on words. Yeah, sure, I have a words of affirmation love language, but it's different.
I get in trouble for my honesty a lot. People tell me "Well-behaved women rarely make history" (thanks, Marilyn Monroe, who was a size 14...making her a modern-day size 8. So if somebody tells you she was huge, tell them they're a liar). Anyway, what about Mother Teresa??? Chew on that!
Uh. Anyway....I get in trouble for my honesty. I've blogged about this before, and people have given me a little pep rally telling me to keep it up. But yesterday, I was on my way out to go to Anthony's, and two people I know were sitting in the hallway. I don't know how it came up, but the guy said "It's funny. In that class (World Lit), whenever you start to say something, everybody listens." I said "I think it's because I'm loud." He said "I don't think so. I think it's because you always have something interesting to say that people may think about, but would rarely say."
And I said thank you. What else could I say? I've never understood how people CAN'T be this way. How can I mute my thoughts because they don't fit a standard? I'm not gonna tell somebody they're ugly or something, but I'm not going to lie.
I was talking to my dad about music and how I'm doing with it lately. Talking helps me organize my thoughts...so I love it when people will just listen and let me get through it. I told him that my favorite people are the people who give me the most criticism. I'm pretty sure I've written about this lately, but hey, this is my blog. You just visit it.
It's gotten to the point where if somebody says something sounds okay, or looked okay, came together okay...I ask why! Not to argue why it should be fantastic or good, but to improve. I don't want to just be okay. I want to be the best I'm capable of. It's taken a lot to get there.
Okay. I'm gonna stop before the rambling gets bad. I love you all. Have a fantastic Valentine's Day, and think of me while I'm working =(.
Actually, I requested to work Monday so I don't have to be distracted by romance and feeling sorry for myself.

Love,
Leah