Word Vomit

My sophomore year in high school, my English teacher's name was Mrs. Rewey. We wrote a lot in that class. She used an illustration that you can't quite ignore. "When you start," she would say, "it's going to be like word vomit, everything just spewing out of you in slimy chunks that don't really belong together." She would go on to explain that eventually you can craft that word vomit into a coherent, logical essay. Well you know what....I'm just gonna vomit tonight. No crafting, just the slimy chunks.

It snowed this weekend. Very cool and not cool at the same time. It forced those in power to cancel the choir performance and the Homecoming Game, therefore I didn't go. LAME! I was kinda ticked, but it was cold and we lost anyway.

I finally brought myself to talk to Jill today. Well, not ACTUALLY verbally talk to her, but write her a note that really came from my heart. It's just a little over 9 months since she passed away. I still gets to me to think of what she could have done with her life, what an impact she could have made and the world missed out on the beautiful person she was. But then I stop and think about it--she did a lot in her life! She touched the hearts of everyone that knew her in a mere 18 years. She DID have an impact on the world: she proved that humanity is not lost, that there is still hope alive and well, and courage and love can live on past death. The world may have missed out on her, but she sure didn't miss out on the world. She made every moment count.

I can't do it. Not on my own. I've been striving for independence for so long and now I realize that having people around you that you can count on is the best thing in the world.

People say that "you're your own worst critic". I beg to differ. Little sisters are the worst critics ever...at least for me. She gets me on everything: "You are wearing SOO much make-up" "Could you just stop being in the way, please." "You walk in my way all the time. Just go walk over there." But you know what....I'm better because of it. She's so picky and she just hammers out all the kinks. She's like a Life Editor. She'll look at what I did, bleed red pen all over it, hurt my feelings a little, but turns what I did into what she knew I could do.

God, too, is like a Life Editor-in-Chief. He takes all of our "word vomit", bleeds Christ's blood-red pen all over it, and turns our life from what we could do into what he will do.