Savor

Savor: taste (food or drink) and enjoy it completely; enjoy or appreciate (something pleasant) completely.

~Synonyms: relish, enjoy (to the full), appreciate, delight in, revel in, luxuriate in, bask in

I am enamored with this word and for all it means. In terms of food, not many have this down. To truly savor something, there is a strategy. One must eat slow, enjoying each and every little bite. Savoring involves the smell, the look, the feel, and the atmosphere. One cannot simply make eating food a matter of the taste buds. Every little aspect counts, for, a good cookie is not as good in front of a television at midnight as it is right out of the oven, next to your mother who took time and care to make it with you. The food needs good company. No one should savor alone. One must focus on only the piece of art that they are eating when they are eating. The food must be pretty. As I learned in What's 4 Dessert, presentation is everything. Take a lesson from little kids,  any food that is not beautiful is not worth eating. If the texture or smell is not perfect, the consumption will not be savored. Finally, the food needs good company. If anything throws off the experience, why eat it? Why even waste the calories?

Before you think I am food critic, I will tell you that I am more of a life critic. Isn't that what we writers are anywho? I am not so much interested in savoring my chocolate chip cookie as I am in savoring my life. Although, savoring a chocolate chip cookie right now would probably be a very good idea.

There is also a strategy to savoring life. I want to savor every morsel, every bite. I want to make it beautiful and worthwhile.  I don't want to waste time with diverted focus. I want to be fully present in every single moment of my life. The details count- the smells, the textures, the atmosphere, the company, the presentation. 

I wonder, how much of my life am I truly savoring? How much am I living each moment? Enjoying it, appreciating it to the full?

Have you ever seen someone who does this? They don't waste time with the food that isn't worth it. They don't eat the food that isn't the best for their life. That is to say, they do not worry about the things that don't matter. They purge their lives of the cares which cages the world in such obsession. Their lives are void of absent minded meals. Instead, they live every day, enjoying every moment to the full, with good company and with beauty.  

Abundant- existing or available in large quantities, plentiful; extreme

~Synonyms: rich, lavish, abounding, bountiful, overflowing, prolific

In return for savor, one receives abundance. 

Savoring life means living life abundantly. The two go hand in hand. 

Please, do not miss your life. Do not forget to savor. Focus on the eternal- what matters.  Close your eyes and smell the aroma. Open them and behold its beauty. Bite slow, chew on every morsel, swallow with care. Share it with others. Do not savor alone. 

And finally, live life abundantly.

Onions

I just finished a book that tastes like onions, long after the last page is turned.

I am vexed.

The book's premise was based on the idea that because someone is in love, they can be as obnoxiously selfish as they want to be. Love explains and excuses every action. Love is the quintessential band-aid for all evils. Love yada yada. After reading this book, if this is what love is, I simply don't want anything to do with it. 

Onions also make people cry. Doesn't anyone feel their stinging eyes?

This is reality people. We live in world that believes this. I can leave my husband if I fall in love with another man. I can sign the divorce papers and force my kids to watch their world fall apart. I can ignore my friends and family to be with the person that sucks up my existence. I can have sex with a guy when I'm 14 and have his baby with no money or maturity to support because we are "in love." I can abuse, steal, kill, defile- I AM IN LOVE. I mean, no one can help their feelings, right?

Is this love? Or onions?

New York Times Bestsellers List- you failed.

I need to go brush my teeth. If I am to find true love today, I refuse to find it with onion breath.

A Greater Love- A Journey of Pink Tricycles and Gum Balls

When I was little I used to think that Pink was the ultimate door to perfection. Anything pink made me a princess. Pink could send you to the moon. Pink made things look, smell, feel, sound, and taste better. The color pink gave or elevated any object's worth. Pink was my childhood juju.

For instance, I always wanted the pink gum ball at the machines. I would waste quarter after quarter trying to get the pink gum ball. I was convinced the other colors did not taste nearly as delicious. I devised different rituals to ensure I would get the pink one. I would spin around in circles, jump up and down 2.5 times, stomp 4 times, and kiss the quarter for a perfect delivery. (Okay, maybe not quite that exotic but you get the idea). Unfortunately, most times I didn't get the pink gum ball. Usually I got stuck with the other dopey colors. It is a traumatic experience, let me tell you. 

Of course then there was safety town- abounding with Smokey the Bear, stickers, and a fake town that you ride around in a rainbow array of tricycles. Everything was going great until they let us loose on the tricycles. I soon realized on the first day that there was only ONE pink tricycle. ONE!!!! Are they crazy?? What are they thinking? Everyday of safety town my new mission was to get that pink tricycle. Okay this is where the obsession bit comes in, but I prefer to look at it as driven. I don't think I actually learned anything in safety town because I spent the whole day devising ways to win the pink tricycle. I was convinced nothing would stop me.  I RAN every day, saddle shoes to the pavement, shoving other kids nonchalantly on the way, to achieve my mission. Day after day, my mission failed. At least my pink fantasies, Mr. Tricycle and Mr. Gum Ball, could be friends in their continued defeat. 

In my nineteen year old life, I have come across many different colored gum balls and tricycles in search for the pink one. I mean, in a more literal sense, I have searched for the best thing, the right thing, the pink tricycle or gum ball so to speak. 

In recent weeks, I have realized the rules have changed. They are even more complicated. Many times, I have thought I arrived at the pink in victory, only to realize that the pink wasn't real. Gum balls and tricycles decked out in camouflage to get me to next step in my journey for the real pink.

It is disappointing, you know? It hurts to separate from that which I have come to love. It is painful to break off another relationship that I thought might be IT. It pangs me to leave a church that I came to love so much. It aches to withdraw so suddenly from the closest people to me. Maybe it stings more to separate from the idea that I finally found the pink. 

God has taught me that he doesn't want us to find the pink right away. We need to learn from the other colors he puts into our lives. He wants us to live by faith that he will get us there. When God separates us from something we come to love, it isn't because he doesn't love us. He just knows that what we love isn't really pink, even though our own eyes deceive us. We spit out our gum and step away from our tricycle.

I am a little girl, waiting at the gum ball machine, running toward the tricycles at safety town. I can feel my hand in my Daddy's hand, waiting and running, together. I imagine after quite a bit of blues and greens and yellows and reds and oranges, I finally get to ride the Pink Tricycle. There will be a Pink Gum Ball in the basket. 

 

 

After a long, painful absence, Only Questions

Questions I have been asking as of late:

What is the church?

Since when did it become a black widow and decide to eat its own?

If it can't take care of its own people, then how the hell is it going to reach out to other people in the world? How can it take care of all the other crap?

How does God manage to take such a tormenting situation and turn it into a refreshing one?

Why do my glasses always have spots on the lenses?

Do I eat too much chocolate?

When was the last time I really thanked God for everything he has done? 

Am I going to pull a B in Politics Class? Do I care?

How am I going to survive a month without Stephanie Taylor?

Should I get people anything for Christmas this year? Would I be contributing to the Consumerism that dehydrates our society? 

Is it possible for a 19 year old to write a smashing book full of everything she needs to say? 

Have I become too cynical? Do I sound like an old bitter woman with her lips pursed too tight?

Why do I even wonder at these things when next door, someone is probably wondering things like, "Where is my next meal coming from?" and "I wonder if anyone loves me?" 

Answers:

According to Mrs. Smith, my Junior High History Teacher, the answer is always 2. 

According to Paul, my attitude should be like Christ and become a servant. He also advised that I should rejoice no matter the circumstances.

According to the ceiling tiles I am staring at, well, nothing. They are rather indignant in their silence. 

There is no more time to wallow or to question. I have no more time to wonder at the things I cannot control. Only time to act. 

It is the end of this day and my body will surrender to the flowered sheets. Yet I hope for tomorrow. I pray for a will empowered by the Spirit to leave behind all unanswered questions. I suppose I do not need them answered anyway. At least not in one sitting. Or maybe not all in one lifetime. I am convinced the only essential is a God who knows all of those answers already, and now is the ultimate time to strip down to the essentials. 

To Do? Life!

Study. Workout. Call (insert name). Write (insert name). Eat (insert healthier foods). Smile. Brush teeth. Apply for Grad School. Write book. Sleep. Stop eating. Better tomorrow.

Stop. 

Study. Workout. Call (insert name). Write (insert name). Eat...don't eat. Write book. Grad school? Whiten teeth. Ministry Team. (insert org) Meeting. 

Stop. 

Recycle, Recycle thoughts, recycle onto yet another doomed piece of paper. Monotony. Check Check Check. Cross Cross Cross. Sleep. Repeat.  

Stop. 

My life is a great monument of post-it notes. Pile them up in an enticing, technicolor sculpture. Let them stick, stick, stick. Indefinitely. Immobilizing. Paralyzing. Don't let one fall! They are arranged perfectly, a rainbow of neon accomplishments. DON'T TOUCH! Burry me as the silent, unmoving post-it note statue that still has more to do.

STOP NOW!

I don't wanna die! I haven't yet lived! I reach through and painfully rip off one from my eyes. I can still see that there is a light out there. I tear yet another from my mouth. Is that real air I am breathing? 

A To Do list is not a map to fulfillment. Treasure is not located at the bottom of it. The check-marks do not gain you more points towards understanding, success, perfection. The day-planner does not contain freedom. The palm-pilot does not provide the path to happiness.  

The post-its cages me in. The To-Do List equally thrills and kills me. I need to feel in control of my life. Organized. Successful. Yet I lose focus when I am enslaved to a 3x3 inch neon colored piece of paper. Since when did I stop controlling it? Since when did it start controlling me?

My miniature idols lose their glory as I realize: God measures us by who we are, not by what we do. Conversely, we do not find fulfillment in what we do, but by who God makes us to be. God wants our holiness more than our happiness. Conversely, holiness reshapes the very essence of happiness. 

I want to be present in my life. I want God to make me holy. How in the world is he going to do that if I am living vicariously through my post-notes?

Do not worry about tomorrow for tomorrow will worry about itself. 

What is on my To Do list now? 

1. Throw away my post-it notes.
2. Live. 

The Gospel According to Lorenzo

For those of you who don't know, my car's name is Lorenzo. (Why you say? Well if you need a reason, it is foreign and nifty. I prefer you just accept the fact that I name inanimate objects.)

In the two and a half years that I have owned Lorenzo, he has had many a thing go awry. To be specific- the alternator, the transmission, the oil pan and gasket, the battery, the radio and all the buttons to go along, the brakes, etc. In short, you name it and Lorenzo has a new one. 

Now I don't know much about cars but I usually know something is wrong when my car stops working on a country road at one o'clock in the morning. (Problem #1 and revised version of problem #2) Sometimes I catch the problem while I'm still in denial of the problem happening. Every visit to the mechanic is pretty much the same. "Hey Tarry, I need an oil change. Oh and by the way, can you maybe poke around in there a bit?" "Why is something wrong?" "Oh not much, it just takes five minutes to start and makes a sound that makes me think that Jesus must be coming back, but all cars do that right?" Tarry looks at me with a blank stare with the occasional blink. Yeah, Tarry and I have great communication like that. (Problem #3-15)

Every time I have the exact same thought pattern throughout the whole process. It usually happen in this order. 

1. I think maybe I should get that checked out. No big. Just a checkup.

2. Dang it. I don't think that Tarry's look is very promising.

3. ARE YOU SERIOUS????? SOMETHING IS THAT WRONG AGAIN????

4. Oh shoot-that is a dang lot of money. My parents are not going to be happy. I hope they help me pay for this.

5. That's it. I'm just going to have to become a superhero and fly everywhere instead. It not only saves money, but it is good for the environment and I hear that guys really dig the challenge of getting a girl who can fly. 

Yet my parents always end up being so great about the whole ordeal. Thank goodness Lorenzo is once again all fixed and rarin' to go.

I can't help but wonder at the whole application of this process to our spiritual lives. (Disclaimer: I realize that the process of fixing a car and fixing a person is not even close to the same thing, but there are some parallels. Usually boys like to compare cars to important things, and this is the one exception where I will follow suit.)

Like Lorenzo, I wonder at how many times and how many places we need help as human beings. God's reaction is the always willing and ready mechanic. He understands when we tell him that we have a problem, even if we do not completely understand the terms to tell him. He understands our simple language. When we tell him that we are having trouble starting, he knows that our battery is almost dead. He sees the details of the charges, the smallest electrons taking a vacation, the lack of connection that makes everything else run in perfect harmony. When we say that something is leaking, he knows the exact place our oil pan gasket has rusted over to the point of weathering away a hole in the pan. 

Tarry explained to me the depths of the problems with my poor Lorenzo. Denial at that point was long gone as I took in the reality of the seriousness of the problems that I had just come to understand. In my life, there are days when I come to understand just how deep the problems of the world reach. Sin is so real.  We are rusty and we are failing to start and we are leaking and we are broken and we are disconnected. 

I can't help but think of how he reacts when we come to him with our problems. I'm so thankful he doesn't react like I do-"ARE YOU SERIOUS???? SOMETHING IS THAT WRONG AGAIN????" In fact, his reaction is more akin to that of my parents. He understands that something is seriously wrong, he looks at the price of the repairs, and he pays cash out of pocket to fix it, no matter the price. 

Why? Well...Grace. Love. That's why. 

In some corky way, I am reminded of God's grace by my car. I thank God for another reminder. I am always in need of a reality check. GOD GAVE HIS SON FOR MY SINS! He payed the ultimate price to fix me. Understanding the depths of my need for repair, my failure to function, and all of my rust-filled parts, I come to a better understanding of just how amazing God's grace is. There is no good reason why he saved me. No good reason why he paid the price. 

So now I am Lorenzo. I am repaired and running well. God is driving me where he wills me to go and I have never been quite so alive. 

Yay for Election Day!!

I voted today for the first time ever in the General Election. Yay for being an American Citizen. 

First Pic: After the big vote. Notice the kick a** sticker. Also...notice the perfectly placed American Flag in the background and my pumpkin spice latte (thanks Dad). Ironically, I am actually supposed to be studying for a Politics Test in that picture.

Second Pic: My BFF Stephalumps and I with the nominees. Disclaimer: the direction of the kiss is not necessarily an indication of who we voted for. ;) I would like to take this opportunity to thank the Cedarville Photography Club for supplying this grand photo. This one will go down in blogger history.

Did you vote? GO DO IT!!!!

Oh Precious Is The Flow

I knew I was doomed the day I realized I am a perfectionist. I hate when people see the weakness in me. I hate when they see me annoyed that my pants don't fit. I hate when they see me with writer's block. I hate when anyone sees me tired. I hate when I get a B instead of an A...or a C instead of a B these days. I hate when someone sees my bed unmade, my hair messy.

Worst of all, I hate when anyone sees that I care so much about what they think. 

But the truth is, I am weak. Just like everyone else. We are all weak. So what is the point in having such perfectionistic pride? 

So we screw up. Everybody does. It has been inevitable since Adam and Eve dug their teeth into the venomous juices of that fruit. We have the very same venom within us, imperfection soaring through our veins and arteries. Pumping violently to and from our heart.

Yet even with all that venom penetrating our bodies, Christians have obtained a new heart. This heart wages a brilliant war against this venom, refusing to serve the enemy by pumping the infected blood. So instead it just stops. We get pale from lack of blood flow. We lose feeling.

Once you are within God's grasp, once you ask him for a new heart, to stray doesn't just hurt. The very act makes one go numb. Haven't you ever felt this? 

So I admit. I am weak person. Yet I have accepted a heart that is stronger than my body will ever be. This heart is newly awakened from its slumber and once again I feel the energy of regular blood flow. 

There is a change in me that no perfectionist pride can hide. I want people to understand how flawed I am. In fact, maybe it is better for no one to see ME at all. Let Jillian seep into the invisible catacombs. I want them to see clearly this beautiful, strong beating heart. That is my deepest prayer. 

What can wash away my sin? Nothing but the blood of Jesus. What can make me whole again? Nothing but the blood of Jesus. Oh precious is the flow that makes me white as snow. No other fount I know. Nothing but the blood of Jesus.

The Fairy Tale

I am nineteen years old. Often, I still feel like I'm a little kid, dreaming about "when I grow up."

When you get to college it is clear that everyone is holding on to their childhood. Instead of wanting to feel grown up, college kids try to increasingly embrace all things childlike. For instance, there are disney princesses everywhere in the dorms and it is not uncommon to find a dozen girls watching an old disney movie in the lounge.


I am no different. I have a new found passion for stickers. Instead of real food I prefer to eat cereal out of those innovative bowls that have built-in straws for slurping leftover milk. I color my notes during class because I have deep appreciation for crayons. I miss swings and merry-go-rounds. Deep down inside, I still want my prince to come and rescue me from the evil dragon.

People assume that growing up means letting go of childhood dreams and facing reality. Does the hope of fairy tales end when you get to college? After you spend five years in college and realize you don't want to do anything coinciding with your major? When you have not come close to finding that prince, let alone being rescued by him? When you get a job just to pay the rent? When you find a coffee stain unexpectedly on your favorite sweater right before seeing your ex-boyfriend from high school happily married with 2.5 kids?


I believe college students have a secret fear deep inside that growing up means nothing but disappointment, boredom, and the end of the hope of a long awaited fairy tale. Therefore, they try to prolong the process by clenching on to disney princesses and swing sets.


The truth in growing up is realizing that the perfect fairy tale is not perfect as we define perfection. My favorite stories are the ones that are messy. They are full of intense peril, mindless stupidity, and the ex-boyfriend happily married with 2.5 kids. Is accepting those things giving up? By no means! Accepting those things opens up the opportunity for us to truly live in God's story, not some made up human one.


In those fairy tales we dream about in our childhood, the end is always predictable. The story ends with living happily ever after. The characters are fulfilled and the purpose, their own happiness, has reached the ultimate shining fruition. There is no end after that. The end is happiness, and that is...well...the end.


It might be a hard lesson to learn, but our happiness is not the purpose of this story. This fact actually releases all the pressure off growing up, meeting Mr. Right, working at a dream job, and having those 2.5 beautiful kids. Oh these are wonderful things, don't get me wrong. But they are not IT. They are not the end. I find it heartbreaking when people think that these goals are the end, only to be disappointed at their own discontent after marrying, working, or raising their kids.


Truth be told, I don't care if I "grow up." I will probably love stickers and cereal forever. I do care, however, that I am spiritually mature. The spiritually mature accepts that their purpose is to bring God's glory. The end lays in the perfect author's hands. Our story is not a fairy tale, but REALITY. We are characters in the grandest, most romantic, and most eloquent story of all- the story of mankind.

Ch..cha..cha... CHANGES

I AM SO HAPPY IT IS FRIDAY! I'm going to party tonight. And by party I mean the Christian College Version, you know, games with the brother unit and watching 

WALL-E! (P.S. That is one of my favorite movies of all time and CU is showing it on campus for FREE!)

The picture of the day goes to WALL-E because he deserves it.

Let us reflect upon how different Jillian is from the first day of college:

1. I make my bed every day. That was usually rare at home. The funny thing is that it takes about 3 times as much effort to make my bed at school. On the bright side, the top bunk gives me a full body workout every morning. 

2. I don't care so much about the grades I get as what I learn from the class. You know what- this system ROCKS. FREEDOM!

3. I appreciate more. Everything has become a luxury- time with my family, time with friends, coffee, healthy cereal and soy milk, silence, etc.

4. I'm healthier. I have worked out atleast 4 days of every week that I have been here. As a result, I finally feel like I have got the moderation thing down. I don't feel like I have to change, nor do I often feel like indulging in things. This is GOOD.

5. I have learned that Discipline is one of the biggest bridges to spiritual growth. This Christian life is not easy, and staying on course is also not going to be easy. God does not tell us it will be. Therefore, I have decided to strive and strive hard. At the end of my life, I will never regret how much I strived to become like Christ. The good news is, we are never alone in that striving. THANK GOD!

I'm sure there are other things that are changing... but I will let you decide when you next talk to me. :)

The Jillian List

These are things that I feel just make life a little bit better...in no specific order:

1. Lilac Tide...oh the goodness
2. Stephanie Taylor
3. Mr. Coffee
4. ANY Coffee
5. Classes that randomly get cancelled on a beautiful day as today
6. Endorphins- the Jesus approved high
7. 8 hours of sleep- no more no less
8. Deep, rich, full belly laughter...the kind that makes you feel like you just had a serious ab workout
9. Flowers
10. A handwritten letter in the mail

Every now and again I will post these. The Jillian List is composed of many more things than here and makes for a light post when I don't have the time or energy to write out my heart:)

Naked Hearts

Is it excessive to post more than one post in one day? I just have so much to write all the time. I must take advantage of the inspiration when it comes.

Imagine with me: What if all we saw was the heart of people? What if, in some miracle, for a day we saw nothing but the raw hearts of people? What if the physical realm was nonexistent and we could not hide behind pretense? All the interaction would be heart to heart. All truth of where we really are exposed to everyone around us. 

What would that change? How would we react? Would humanity be defined differently?

The Lyrics to a Brandon Heath song asks God: "Give me your eyes for just one second. Give me your eyes so I can see everything that I keep missing. Give me your love for humanity. Give me your arms for the broken hearted, the ones that are far beyond my reach. Give me your heart for the once forgotten...Well I want a second glance, so give me a second chance to 

See the way you see the people all alone"

Maybe the reason we don't see the way God does is that he is protecting us. Maybe we seriously just couldn't hack it. Our hearts are so marred by hurt and sin and corruption. Maybe it would overwhelm and depress us. 

But I can't help but wanting the same thing as Brandon Heath. In my humanness, skin is way too big of an issue. Our physical bodies are supposed to be used for God's glory, not as a way to hide what is inside or to be the focus in and of itself. 

This concept challenges me. What am I really looking at when I see a person? Do I really look for their heart? If you flip the challenge, how do I appear to others? Do they see my heart? Am I vulnerable enough? 

Is my skin a means to protect my pride?

1 John 3:16-24:

This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers. If anyone has material possessions and see his brother in need but has no pity on him, how can the love of God be in him? Dear children, let us not love with words or tongue but with actions and in truth. This then is how we know that we belong to the truth, and how we set our hearts at rest in his presence whenever our hearts condemn us. For God is greater than our hearts, and he knows everything. Dear friends, if our hearts do not condemn us, we have confidence before God and receive from him anything we ask, because we obey his commands and do what pleases him. And this is his command: to believe in the name of his Son, Jesus Christ, and to love one another as he commanded us. Those who obey his commands live in him, and he in them. And this is how we know that he lives in us: We know it by the Spirit he gave us.

This passage smacks it down on the table for me. Our hearts are not okay. How do we set our hearts at rest? We LOVE! This love is deeper than our skin. This love is about how we act and not about what we have or look like. This love is about laying down our lives for those around us... in other words... to care for someone's heart with no inhibitions from our pride or selfish nature. How? Simply: God. God is greater. He allows us the capacity to love. And this love conquers all. 

"Love the Sinner, Hate the Sin"

I am so impressed with Doctor Martin Luther King Junior.

Big surprise ay? But seriously...have you read his stuff? I had to read a letter he wrote for one of my classes. We are studying the vice anger and the opposite virtues: meekness and peacemaking. The main concept is loving your enemies.

As a girl who has been in the Christian world her whole life, I have heard this concept so many times. Loving your enemy is obvious in thought but not so obvious in real life. Truly...how many times do you encounter someone truly loving someone else who has wronged them? 

Two misconceptions: 1. Loving your enemy is weak. 2.By loving your neighbor you are somehow saying whatever they did/are doing is okay. 

Really? Loving your enemy is weak? I'm pretty sure Jesus loved his enemies so much he died for them. Would you call him weak for dying on the cross for us? Also, think how much harder it is for one to restrain their rage and act out of love for someone who has wronged them? That is impressive. That is revolutionary. THAT is love. I feel like whenever this happens, Jesus shouts, "SHABAM!!! They finally have it!"

In response to giving an "okay" to wrong by loving enemies: Love does not avoid the wrong. Love looks straight at the wrong and recognizes the fallen nature of the individual. After all, God sees us in our entirety, even the worst parts of us. He never excuses our sin, never says simply that it is okay, but loves us despite it all. 

What is the alternative? Hating those who are hateful? That just adds more hate. Nothing is solved. No peace can come from the human response to hate. 

Martin Luther King had this concept mastered. His resolve to be loving to those who were so cruel to him amazes me. His cry was to hate segregation but to love those who fight to segregate. This concept is summarized in the saying "Love the sinner, hate the sin." 

Can we really get this down? Can I really get this down?

Truth be told, I don't feel like I have many enemies. But I have to ask the question: If I was in Dr. King Jr.'s position, how would I react? I don't know. I hope that I would be able to react in such a Christlike way as Dr. King. 

What would the world look like if we took this principle into practice? This world would be so unrecognizable to our eyes. Will it ever happen? Probably not anytime soon. Yet I am convinced that our generation can be a good start. I can be a good start. 

~For those who wish to discover this concept further, I recommend the Beatitudes in Matthew 5, Luke 6, Romans 12, and Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis. 

"I Can Handle It"

Sometimes I wonder, "Did that really just happen? Am I in real life?" Then I laugh and write about it. 

For instance, today I had a ceremony for the reunion of Mr. Coffee and me. Mr. Coffee is my espresso machine that I have been without for a month. I did not realize that I could bring Mr. Coffee to school (Cedarville University). For you to understand the significance of this, you must first understand two things: I have an unhealthy addiction to coffee and I have a love passion for coffee. The first description is how my friends describe it...the second is how I prefer to describe it. To my chagrin, I lived without Mr. Coffee for a month and drank coffee from Chuck's (our cafeteria) and random espresso drinks from Vecinos (our cafe). 

Finally, Mr. Coffee and I were reunited and I brought him back with me after a visit home.  In my excitement to drink my espresso, I released the pressure too quick. This resulted in the lid catapulting to the ceiling from the steam, releasing a thunderous sound akin to a bomb exploding. Besides making all my unit mates pee their pants (myself included), everything was surprisingly okay. I recovered by curling up in a ball for about ten minutes in the fullest belly laughter imaginable. 

In my class (which I was late to thanks to the Mr. Coffee incident), my prof mentioned just how many times we assume, "Oh I can handle it."  I think God chuckles a bit whenever we say that. Like, "Here we go again, Jillian thinks she has this life thing down." We forget that we have a fallen human nature. We forget that we are created to be in relation with God and with others. If we simply think we can handle things by ourselves, we inevitably... well... blow up like Mr. Coffee. 

There builds up so much pressure in oneself if they bear things alone. The truth of the matter is, I like when things blow up, because sometimes that is what it takes for me to realize I need adjusting. Yet blowing up is not always the best way to come to this realization. There is always signs of the steam building up too much pressure beforehand. 

My ultimate goal is to stop before I blow up. I am Mr. Coffee. I need to let God handle the pressure and let others see me in my weak times. Otherwise, I will eventually self destruct. 

I think I am going to go give Mr. Coffee a second try now. And a word of advice: don't try to do this life thing by yourself. Let God release the pressure and give you a life better than the best Grande Nonfat Latte around.

And Jillian said, "Let there be blog! And it was good"

I would just like the world to know that Jillian Pierce now has a blog. This is my reasoning:

1. I love to write.

2. I love to write about what I learn in my daily life.

3. I love when people like my writing about what I learn in my daily life.

4. Why not? (as my Dove Dark Chocolate wrapper told me this morning)

So here goes....