2012

            2012.

 The New Year will be reined in tonight.  I’ve chosen a single word to base my entire year off of. 

Beautiful.

 My goal is to see, and write about, the world’s beauty.  I’d like to also focus on individuals’ unique beauty, as well as come to terms with the fact that my own natural beauty is from God, and therefore must be suitable for Him.

                I’d like to start with my inspiration.

 I met someone, on a trip I recently took with Girl Scouts.  I was strangely fascinated with her the moment I saw her.  I spent the next few days getting to know her.  She is very unique, very comfortable with herself, and her form of beauty astounds me still.  While our beliefs are slightly differently, I respect her very much.  She has a close knit family, and I can see in those huge green/blue/gray glass eyes that she yearns to bring them happiness.  Her heart is golden, and she treats everyone equally.  She wears no makeup; her hair falls natural and remains her natural color.  As I got to know there was a slight envy in my heart, because I wanted people to see me the way I see her.  She is slightly clumsy, awkward, and it all adds to her undying charisma.  She makes people laugh, and her aura lures people in, leading her to be well-loved.  She inspired me.  She inspired me to see the beauty in everyone, in everything, and most of all to find myself.  So I did, I tried hard to decide who I was and what my dreams were, and after a troubling night I decided it wasn’t my decision.  As I gave everything to God, I became confident in who I am.  I realize now, that me and this girl, we are very different in almost every way, but that doesn’t mean that one is beautiful and the other isn’t.  It simply means our beauty is expressed differently.  I will never forget her, because I intend on allowing her to be my lifelong inspiration to be myself, and to never try to be anything else.  She impacted my life in a way nobody has in a long time.  All-in-all I’ve learned that every single person has a story, something that has created who they are now, and every single person has the choice to keep writing, to create a better version than who they are now. 

Thank you, Rebecca Elizabeth Statum, for changing my life. 

Even the little things count.

P.S. you’re not only phenomenal and stellar,

 but also

BEAUTIFUL.

Forcefull

Maybe it’s not our job to force anything. Jesus went out, and he shared all the good news, and he told of the truth of God, but he never once forced himself upon anyone. He went out and offered the truth, and if you chose to pursue it then so be it. It was an option, as it should remain an option.
Yes, I stand strong in the word of God as what I believe in, and I will continue to be as open as I please on that fact. I am different, I am myself as God has made me, but I do not wish to make anyone feel forced or pressured to choose the path I walk along. 
God created us in His image, and though sin has disrupted what was originally perfect, He made beauty out of the destruction. Satan gave glory to God through his attempt to bring Him down. God took the imperfection, and gave us free will. We have option to believe whatever we wish. This in turn brings God more glory than ever, to choose Him through the blinding yet deceiving glare of sin that engulfs out world.
I wrap this up to share my personal opinion. I believe we will reach more people through the grace of God by simply maintaining our witness and being what you claim to believe. No one wants to be less, they want to be respected. In turn, they will respect you and your opinions. So let’s focus more on who we are and where we stand rather than turn up our nose and make people feel pressured to reach your level.
Thank you for reading this far, and God bless.

Example

Walking the streets of my small town, all I knew to do was wonder. No one is who they say they are, but everyone knows who you are. Nothing is ever quite right, but no one can ever do wrong. Humans, we live in a constant paradox. 
I see every soul walk by, and their faces each portray the truth they hide. We all hide. We’re ashamed of who we are. Yes, we’re flawed and filled with repulsive sin; but my God, our God, created each of us in his very own image. He knew what He wanted, and maybe that’s not exactly what you think you want, but God knows you better than you know yourself.
For every hidden person, every hurting person, for every paradox, flaw, and second-guess, you are no mistake. Find comfort in what you stand on rather than who you think you are. 
“’ All flesh is like grass and all its glory like the flower of grass. The grass withers, and the flower falls, but the word of the Lord remains forever.’ And this word is the good news that was preached to you. 1 Peter 1:24-25”
Maybe my words are filled with inspiration or the grammatical correctness of a professional author or a top blog, but I am simply myself and that’s all I can be.
I end my sporadic inspiration encouraging you to find the hidden souls and be an example. Embrace yourself for who God has made you and follow His path to reach points in your life you would never believe. You may be different, and it won’t be easy, but stand up for who you are and what you stand in. Watching the examples in my life helped me find who I am and what I believe in.
If you’ve made it this far I’d like to say thank you for bearing through my amateur writing style, and I hope you’ve made something out of it.
God Bless.

My day

I spent my day with my boyfriend, david kent layton's, mom and sister.we shopped, ate pizza, and went to the movies.  After we got back, me and david ate at huddle house and drove through Christmas in the park.  There I saw one fixture of soldiers dying trying to hold up our nations flag.  This made me wonder, our nation once stood for God, died for our nation to be grounded in God, yet we are so far from Him.  it makes me wonder, where are we and how did we get here? 
This was my thought of the day.
-adm

imperfect beauty

Here I am; Human, imperfect, and beautiful. 

Beauty.  The definitions are endless.

Webster’s dictionary says this: beau’ty n., pl. –ties  1 pleasing quality as in looks, sound, etc.  2 person or thing of beauty

Webster’s thesaurus says this: beautiful a. lovely, attractive, appealing, comely, pleasing, pretty, fair, fine, nice, dainty, good-looking, delightful, charming, enticing, fascinating, admirable, rich, graceful, ideal, delicate, refined, elegant, symmetrical, well-formed, shapely, well-made, splendid, gorgeous, brilliant, radiant, exquisite, dazzling, resplendent, magnificent, superb, marvelous, wonderful, grand, awe-inspiring, imposing, majestic, excellent, impressive, handsome, divine, blooming, rosy, beauteous, statuesque, well-favored, bewitching, personable, taking, alluring, slender, svelte, lissome, lithe, bright-eyed, classy*, easy on the eyes*, long on looks*, built*. -Ant. Ugly, deformed, hideous.

According to Webster, very few things don’t fall into the category of beautiful. To be exact, beautiful has 64 synonyms versus 3 antonyms.  Even the words you’ll find as antonyms could very possibly still hold features that could be considered beautiful.

Why do we thrive on negativity?  Why do we look past all 64 synonyms of beautiful to only see the three antonyms?  Often times we make things up to be ugly, and deformed, and hideous, but in all actuality everything holds beauty of some sort.  We are wonderfully made and carefully created by the hands of God.  He gave us His very breath!  Why do we allow Satan to attract us to everything ugly and deformed and hideous? 

I am imperfect, I am ugly, I am deformed, and I am hideous.

I am beautiful, I am lovely, I am attractive, I am appealing, I am comely, I am pleasing, I am pretty, I am fair, I am fine, I am nice, I am dainty, I am good-looking, I am delightful, I am charming, I am enticing, I am fascinating, I am admirable, I am rich, I am graceful, I am ideal, I am delicate, I am refined, I am exquisite, I am dazzling, I am resplendent, I am magnificent, I am superb, I am marvelous, I am wonderful, I am grand, I am awe-inspiring, I am imposing, I am majestic, I am excellent, I am impressive, I am handsome, I am divine, I am blooming, I am rosy, I am beauteous, I am statuesque, I am well-favored, I am bewitching, I am personable, I am taking, I am alluring, I am slender, I am svelte, I am lissome, I am lithe, I am bright-eyed, I am classy, I am easy on the eyes, I am long on looks, and I am built. 

It may not be in the common sense or exact definition of the word, but by the glory of God alone.

And so are you.

We are human. We are imperfect. We are beautiful.

Say it out loud, and proclaim the truths given to you by an almighty creator.

---andriadawn---

off track

Everyone’s laughter encased her as salt-infested tears attempted to drown this frail 17-year-old girl.  Shiny red hair hung limply around a pale freckled-face.  The world slowly became a blur and Sam’s weak knees buckled under.  Crawling backwards in a pitiful attempt to escape, she found herself in the male, teachers’ bathroom. 
            This bathroom was rarely used, and seemed unusually tidy.  In her bare bra and underwear, she curled into the fetal position.  It was the high school’s break time, and the bell would ring for third period soon.  She heard the chatter of her peers outside and tears began to crash harder.  They didn’t understand, they didn’t know.  All they were aware of was finding her, with him, and her clothes on the floor.  They hadn’t a clue.

Sam had made it to senior year unnoticed, so what had gone wrong?  She fell for it.  She fell for him.  How could she lose sight of her logic?  What had happened to her morals?  Who was she, and how had she gotten to this point?  

Like a movie reel, she bean to play everything through her mind.  It was her life story from the beginning of senior year.  She remembered everything with vivid perception, and in detailed hue.

Dr. Kendrick asked her to stay late her seventh period class.  He mention an error on her English report, said it could pass or fail her.  Solemnly she nodded, hoping no one would look back at her. 

She was rather tall and thin with a small frame.  Her red hair fell how it wanted to, and her face held the perfect complexion.  She was invisible around her high school, but her beauty was unmistakable.  She had fell in hate with her body though, and wished to remain invisible.

  Standing quietly at Dr. Kendrick’s desk every student fled at the bell.  Sam lived close and was in no rush to return to her house or her family.  Her professor stood and shut the door, the lock clicked loudly.  “You can sit in my chair.”  He gestured and she silently obeyed.  Her big green eyes watched as he sat on the top of his desk in front of her and smiled. 

He had a rugged handsomeness that had always charmed her.  She recalled his rough steady hand on her face, and the oddness of his lips against hers.  Everything happened so quickly, and his interest made her feel beautiful.

This slowly became a routine, every afternoon she stayed late to “work on my paper.”  She recited endlessly to her parents, who she guessed didn’t care much anyway.  With a sheet over her large dresser mirror, she danced around her room.  This affair was all her own, and no one had to know.

Life became a blur of a routine, but she fit, and that’s what mattered.  Completely numb, she felt his body against hers, and she felt like a person.  She didn’t know herself, but she thought that he did. 

Weeks went by, and her grades got better.  She was quiet, brilliant, and whether she perceived it or not, gorgeous.  Everything was content, and her after school affair grew to become anytime they were alone.  Nothing ever happened between them other than intense make out sessions.  She was too self-conscience, too afraid.

Her thin lips received a smile, as she was called into his room before break, during lunch, or after school.  No one noticed their interest in each other, no one thought twice about their constant interaction. 

She soon found her way to his apartment, and her own home was rarely an option of residency.  Her career-consumed parents figured she was old enough to make her own decisions, seeing as she had made all the right ones until now.  Seventeen, and newly devious, she felt a rush as she lived in the sin she created.  Unfortunately, they both grew careless as they got away with every minute of it.

The door was unlocked, it was break, and she had finally decided to go farther than she ever had before.  Her clothes came off, and his lips were everywhere but on hers.  A loud knock, the door knob twisted, and there stood one of his students astounded by the sight.  Everyone in the hall way stopped to stare and as the tears unwillingly poured out of her eyes she grabbed her clothes and ran.

In the middle of the break area she was exposed, and her knees gave out.  Laughter encased her and all she could do was crawl backwards.  What on earth had she done to herself? 

Days later, it was graduation.  She had spent hours in the principal’s office talking to everyone who needed every detail to fire Dr. Kendrick and charge him with whatever it was they wished to charge him with.  She was lost inside herself all over again, and every memory with him was blurred and disgusting.  Her parents didn’t even dare get involved; she’d be on her own soon enough.

Cap and gown, her name was called, a few steps across the stage, she stood in shame.  She had to fix herself, she had to cleanse herself, and she had to be more than what these people expected out of her.  The ceremony closed out and she avoided most picture opts.  She had a mission, and she needed to leave.

Running across town, diploma in hand, she skidded into a church parking lot.  Tear stained face; she had reached her last hope.  There were stories of a God who creates with purpose, and loves unconditionally, one who destroyed in order to grow a civilization with more potential, and a God that could never be understood but would always forgive and cleanse and love and save. 

That was a God Sam needed, a God that saves.  Solemnly she walked through the doors and to the altar.  Who knew what would come next, she only knew it would be above expectation.

---andriadawn---

Time

                365 days in a year.  Twelve months in a year.  Weeks, days, months, years, decades, millenniums… timeframe…  Time binds us to a world we define as reality.  Who are we to define reality?  Time is of this world, but reality was here long before we were. 

                Simply because you do not understand something doesn’t make is unreal, or impossible.  In fact it makes it all the more possible!  You yourself are a complex creation, so much so that man cannot create a life form like us without existing life.  Now, if even we can’t understand ourselves, surely there is so much more beyond our comprehension.

                Follow me now, time is controlling, it makes up our materialistic life.  Now, what you see, hear, taste, feel, and smell, you define this as “real”.  Allow me to explain, real is beyond you and me.  There is a spiritual world, one we run from due to lack of understanding, this is true reality.  It was here before us, had a hand in creating us, and in the scheme of eternity, we will belong to it regardless of your personal beliefs. 

                How do we know?  How can we be sure?  Now that’s the beauty behind it all.  It’s called faith, believing without knowing.  Not knowing until after you step out and take the chance of being wrong.  It’s believing in more than yourself, more than time, more than the world around you.  Not in search of comfort, or conformity, or acceptance, but a step to changing lives, and seeing the true reality behind it all.  Time is nothing but a frame of mind to stabilize our Godless lives, because God knows no time.

                You doubt, as you’re expected to.  We only know reality as what surrounds us, what we’re familiar with.  Step out of the concept of time, and what your senses recognize, listen to your heart, and decide, will that step of faith harm anything?  What is reality?  Who are you, and is time the center of your life?

-andriadawn

Raising up

            A rising generation, some are doing exceptionally well, others are incredibly bad off.  The generation before us has fallen apart, yet were anticipated to put everything back together that you destroyed.  How are we expected to be better than we are, when who we are is already better off then you?

            We find ourselves being raised by our environments, our televisions, our video games, or friends, or friends family, our teachers, our music, anyone who will step up in our life.  How are we to know the morals you never taught us?  Teach us!  Show us!  Stop allowing us to crumble under life.

            We don’t know love, or right from wrong.  We don’t know discipline, or how to live rather than die.  Stop watching us conform to this godless world, stop letting it consume us, it’s all we know.

            God called for families to be formed, but sin has stolen that concept, and put us in broken homes filled with unnecessary anxieties.  We yearn to be a rising generation, but were learning from a falling generation.  We’re even unsure how to reach out to those younger than us. 

            You are not too old or too wise; get on your knees!  God doesn’t stop revealing Himself, and He doesn’t stop teaching us.  Life is not too busy for our creator; you’re too stubborn to grab the awesome blessings in front of you.  Stand up, and if for nothing else, do it for the generation that is dying to step up, but is without the knowledge.  

Vessel

            The whispers of Satan and his demons filled the earth with sin.  Cora heard the words of the evil that roamed the world with her.  Chills ran down her back as the heard the voice, intriguing, of death in her ear.  “ See that man?  I’m going to give him pride, then use it to strip away the love of his family.  He will be lost, distraught, and if all goes well he may take his own life.”

            Cora stepped slowly down the sidewalk to see the clueless man rested on a park bench alone.  “Stop.”  She mumbled in physical pain over   the words that filled her mind.  “ Oh, wouldn’t you like to help me?  The power of it all, its pure magic.  It’s beautiful chaos Cora, and he can make you worthy.  Help me, won’t you?”  Cora couldn’t fight her urge to feel beautiful, the chance to be more than what she was. 

“ Follow me Cora, flirt with him, let him make you feel like a goddess, let him fulfill you, its so easy!”  The serpent’s devious ways were convincing enough today.  She strutted tan legs with her intention in mind.  Her heart ached, but she tucked it away at the though of meaning something to someone.

She sat close to the man, legs touching.  She took notice of his wedding band, but would stop at nothing.  Pulling her tank top down and leaning his direction showed enough cleavage that his attention was all hers.  Not once did he look at her face, and that made her feel wonderful.  “ Great Cora!  You’re apart of the grand scheme!  Stop at nothing, and I will grant you everything!”  She was now apart of the hollow game called life.

A sly smile, some smooth words, Cora was young but far from naive.  Before all was said and done, they had a date.  He would show up at her apartment by five, and Cora felt accomplished.

All alone in her one bedroom apartment, Cora lit candles and dressed as provocatively as she could manage.  She felt needed, and beautiful.  A knock on the door, tension was broken with a pure passion of lust.  A touch, a kiss, clothing fell to the floor like confetti at Mardi Gras.  Sex was utterly fulfilling at the moment, and desperately empty as he walked out of the door.

“ Wasn’t that fantastic Cora? Don’t you want more?  Its never enough Cora, don’t give up!”  Hell breathed over her.  She dialed his number, inviting him over as often as he’d like.

Day after day, work passed quickly, and night after night, he never failed to show up.  It became routine.  Her life appeared perfect, except for the fact that every night he left her for a family he claimed to love and care for.  “ Keep trying Cora, be my vessel, when his wife finds out he will be all yours and only yours!”  The words that she once feared now engulfed her.

Another lousy day working in a slum of a gas station, a lady walked in for cigarettes.  As Cora carded her, she noticed the last name.  “ Margaret Lynn, like David Lynn?”  She asked innocently.  “ Yes! He’s my husband!”  The busy mom saw Cora’s devilish smile, and immediately caught on.  Tears welling up in her eyes, she took her cigarettes and rushed out worrisome.

As Cora arrived home she found David and his bags outside of her front door.  “ My wife, my kids, my house, its gone.  Cora, my life is over.”  Cora’s heart grew heavy with pain in it’s utmost form.  “ He is yours Cora, be thrilled, you gave him pride, destroyed the love of his family, your getting so much better at this!  Now make him feel useful, let him make you feel useful.  Have lustful sex with him, then leave him.  Do what I say and I’ll give you peace!  I’ll make you okay Cora!”  The father of lies consumed her mind, but her heart hurt too bad to forget this time. 

Letting David in, she warned him, “Don’t unpack, your wife will have you back.”  Cora’s mind screamed no, but her heart felt right.  For the first time in her entire life, she felt light, at peace with herself.  Her mind was nothing in comparison to her heart.  As she called David’s wife and sorted what she could out, she sent him on his way home.  Standing at her front door she called out to him, “ Don’t you dare come back.  Don’t do that to your family.”

It was now clear to her that chaos is not beautiful at all, and this was far from life, in fact she’d even go so far as to call it death.  Not living, but dying.  Satan was using her to destroy everything around her, and mean while she broke herself down into nothing.  There must be more than this pitiful pit she had made for herself Cora thought, If there is this much evil ruling as prince of the earth, surely there was something bigger and better.

The bells of Sunday morning range, and Cora found herself as she was in a local pastor’s office.  “ Who is this God you preach of?”  Cora wept, “ I only know so well of Satan, what else is there?”

A disordered life

Trembling with fear, she knelt down once more. A long night spent bent over a toilet was not how she had hoped to spend summer vacation.  Stomach acid ate away at her esophagus, yet she forcedly continued. 

            Who was she becoming?  How had this consumed her?  What happened to a couple diet pills and a happy life?  No, Satan doesn’t stop at borderline.  Satan works with extremes, and she was most certainly extremely consumed.

            The water was running, the scale waited, and her throat burned.  She hadn’t even eaten today, and she ran all afternoon until she couldn’t stand.  Why did this seem so necessary?  As she stood bare on her scale it read 90 lbs.  Tears streamed down her face, why was nothing good enough?  Lifting the sheet that hid her bathroom mirror, she tied a plastic string tight around her waist to cut into her stomach should it bloat out.

            There was a knock on the door.  “Adeline? Are you alright?”  It was her gullible father.  “Yes sir, just getting a late night bath to ease my muscles and calm my nerves.”  When there was no reply Adie clothed herself and walked into her bedroom.  It was late into the night, but she fixed a cup of coffee to up her metabolism. 

            The next day came with out a wink of sleep, and Adie stayed in a constant state of utter obsession.  She logged into her online community of people like herself, and spent the morning sharing tips with others.  As the day was at its hottest Adie decided to go for a run, the sweat may help her lose an extra pound.  She’d run until she passed out, if she hadn’t passed out it wasn’t enough.

            Once inside, she took a razor to her stomach.  Maybe she could cut the fat off…  “I HATE ME!”  She screamed out in her house all alone.  She cried and cried at her fingers searched to feel the bones protruding from her skin.  “God…  I can’t find myself to reach for you…” Her sobs did her no good.

            This was hers, and she wouldn’t give it up, no matter how badly she wanted to.  Nothing but black coffee and diet pills today, yet that night was spent over the toilet again. The scale read 88 lbs, and she was still not content.  Why would no one help her?  Why could no one see? 

            She yearned for someone to force her in to help, to get so bad off that she’d either die or someone would have to help.  She wouldn’t allow herself to ask for it, to scream for it, this demon commanded her to stay consumed.  If she kept this routine up, if she reached her goals, she could have herself back.  Adie knew it wasn’t true, that she was killing herself and hurting everyone around her.  She knew it would never be enough without God, but she couldn’t stop.  She had the slightest chance of being okay, and that was enough to keep her reaching for impossible goals.  82 lbs, 74 lbs, 62 lbs. 

            Adie couldn’t feel, she could barely speak or move.  She was anything but herself, and her mind wouldn’t stop.  The way she berated herself and obsessed never ceased, and she wouldn’t give it up, she didn’t know how. 

            “Please God, please, I can’t find me, allow someone to find me, let someone lead me to you God, I’m so scared.”  Adie was 85lbs, and falling apart.  She was lost, scared alone.

Who are we to watch her, and not allow God to use us to save her?  We are the body!

God wants to use us!  So you’re scared? Uncomfortable? That doesn’t matter.  Open your heart to God, and let his glory shine.  There are so many dying souls out there, and its our fault for not trying to save them.  Be the body, allow God to use you.

By: Andria Dawn

            

Who are you?

Take a moment to step back.  Ask yourself, who are you?  What defines you?  Who do other people see you as?  What do you let them define you as?

            I am nothing.  Worthless.  My God defines me, and I hope that others see me as His child.  I refuse to be defined as anything else.

            I am not my past, I am not my mistakes, I am not my family, or even their mistakes.  I am God’s creation, and I am His alone.  What about you?

            -If you’re wearing white shoes, take them off, because I’m about to step on toes.  If that makes you uncomfortable, GOOD!  The moment you get comfortable, you stop listening and working towards God, and then you are nothing that you claim to be.  We don’t need another hypocrite in this world, thanks anyway.-

            Why do we ground ourselves in a dying world?  How do we deny spirituality, when clearly it was there long before us?  We are nothing compared to the pure spirit, we are fleshly, half animal, half spirit.  We have a concept of time, and time has an ending.  However we have spirits, and spirits are for eternity.

            Our God CREATED us, destroyed us once, allowed us to repopulate, then died for us!  He wants us, wants a relationship with us, but he does NOT need us.  Why do we spit in His face constantly!  He asks for our belief, our love, our worship.  The funny part is if we could give Him that much and mean it in our heart, we would WANT to live differently!

            So you took a moment, said a prayer, claimed the name of Jesus.  Why does the world still define you?  If you claim salvation and don’t live it you’re a liar!  You’re still on the path to hell. (1 John 2:4)  God didn’t create us to destroy ourselves!  He has a true unconditional love for us, and we hurt him, always. 

            Satan disagreed with God, lied, came to earth, and polluted us with sin.  God’s very own creation degraded Him.  Oh, don’t get cocky, you’re no better.  No sin is bigger than the other, so why are you so much better than Satan?  You’re God’s creation, and you degrade His name everyday!

            You know those doubts in your mind?  Those are Satan’s demons.  The way science cuts short, doesn’t make sense, that’s Satan reassuring everything is here for our fleshly minds to not comprehend spirituality.  Our world seems more “real”?  NO!  Its not, but we are half animal, so we don’t allow ourselves to see beyond the world around us.

            The extremes that you go to, that is Satan!  Ever wonder why you always fail, always return to what you were?  Because Satan and his demons roam the earth with us, and our simple minds are not hidden to the spiritual world.  Every hidden weakness, every sore spot, God knows all!  Unfortunately, Satan and his demons know the flesh.

            We were given free will, and we don’t know how to use it.  We have to ask for the understanding we don’t have, the protection, the faith, and everything else.  We have to ask constantly to receive and keep the things we need to be extremely devoted to God, which is the ONLY extreme that proves terrible for Satan, the only extreme his demons can’t work with.

            So now, soak this all in, you claim to be one person, you live as another, and you allow the world to define you as it pleases.  So tell me, who are you really?  Because, if you’d give up your heart to The Almighty, I know who you could and should be.

Silence

Drip. Drop.  Drip. Drop.

 Water pounded from the awning to the sidewalk.

 Clip. Clop. Clip. Clop. 

Every step seemed more intense.  Each sound engraved into her mind, making her wonder if she was yet reaching insanity.  On her left she saw a boy, sitting on a bench.  With his face cradled in his hands, she saw the difficulties he faced.

 Silently, with her head bowed, she prayed.

 The cars zoomed past and the air stung her face.  She walked the busy streets of a city, an almost godless city.  From the corner of her eye, she saw a woman.  Her shirt was large and stained, and you couldn’t see her shorts.  She didn’t even bother to hide the bruises that ran up her arms like artwork.  It was no secret that she was an addict.  She yearned to reach out, to show the woman she was loved.

 Instead, with her head bowed, silently she prayed. 

It seemed suddenly she realized her surroundings.  Everyone was racing by, muttering curses with angry outlooks.  What had our world turned into?  Could absolutely no one reach out to our world?  Could no one show them that our God is real, and that we live for Him?  Why was everyone so silent about the greatest power on this earth? 

As she followed each crack in the pavement, like the cracks growing deeper in her heart, she bowed her head again, to silently pray. 

Finally, she lifted her head to see ahead of her now.  At the end of her long walk following the sidewalk, there were a grouping of boys and girls.  Dressed in black and blue, they each matched, along with every scowl. 

Her heart grew tight, and her stomach was in knots, but silently she prayed.

 A hit, a punch, a throw; silence had done nothing for this world.  A knife, a stab, a gun, a shot; she was almost too late.  Blood poured with her salt infested tears, and she cried out to the city about her God.

  With her death came revelation, and with her final tears came forgiveness from the only one who matters.

 Our Father.

By: Andria Dawn McMillen

Unforgiven

On her knees, shaky hands, she loaded her daddy’s pistol the way he taught her when she was eight.  She had done it so many times before, but now, in her empty apartment, on her living room floor, she had different intentions for its use.  This made each click register a whole new meaning.  She was absolutely certain she was meant to die! 

She had blocked out everything, and went over this a million times.  She was meant for hell.  It was just that simple.  Why else would so many terrible things have happened?  Was she supposed to grow stronger?  To hell with that, she could barely handle herself.  She was going to hell today.

Her mind was racing a mile a minute.  He seemed to be a wonderful guy!  So convincingly he talked her into her first drink.  She could feel the vodka sting her throat on the way down.  By the time it was over she was wasted, and didn’t even noticed he left her on the street alone. 

Drunkenly she staggered into an old ally way, and it was there she must have passed out.  Some sleazy man was on top of her the next she could remember.  She screamed and yelled, and he laughed.  No one came to help, not even as he beat her. 

She could see his face perfectly, each wrinkle, and his crooked grin with missing teeth.  The stench reached her nose again, and she felt his scruffy face.  Her hands trembled now more than ever.  She lay there that night and bled, with bone-crushing sadness she laid and bled.

She woke again a week later, bound by a hospital bed.  No one would talk to her, unless they were trying to get her to talk about that night.  She wouldn’t, she wouldn’t dare tell a soul the truth.  She was simply ashamed, and terrified of disappointment.  Everything was different now.  That man stole her identity, and left her with a soul who didn’t deserve eternal life.  She shouldn’t be offered heaven.

Two months later and here she was, left all alone in her apartment, and she knew where her daddy hid his pistol.  It was intended for safety reasons, however in her twisted mind she saw this to be a very big safety issue.  It was safer for everyone, before her insanity reached an all time high.  The loaded pistol now rested in her sweaty palms.

It must be done.  The gun reached her temple with an unwelcome chill, and with her index finger she applied just enough pressure.  POP!  It was sharp, intense, and very, very real.  Just like that cold dreary night, there she laid, alcohol in her system and bleeding on the floor.  She was heading to hell with an unforgivable mistake.

By: Andria Dawn McMillen

No Longer

Quietly she stood, shying back from the crowd.  She knew, somewhere in her mind, she should be hysterical right now.  Just like everyone else, crying and screaming.  Her eyes began to wander, but her vision was blurred.  Feeling quite faint, she simply walked off campus.  It didn’t matter anymore.  None of it mattered.

          Walking into the near by woods, she fell to her knees gasping for air.  Her hands clenched tightly around her rib cage, and her chest was pounding.  It felt as though her entire being were being torn apart. The pain seared like she were getting burned alive.

          Over and over she saw it.  Carl’s car slid across the ice in the parking lot.  Herself, Leah, was in the passenger seat.  It was late that night, and they were only trying to turn around.  In front of the school building, she vividly remembered the blood gushing from his neck and chest.  It took everything in her not to scream, she was careful to keep him calm.  “I am in love with you Carl.” She whispered in his ear, his body going limp.

          The ambulance, the sirens, the long night in the hospital, it seemed as if it were ages ago.  All of that in such a blur, she could remember four words very clearly when she asked to see her fiancé.  “He didn’t make it.”  These words came from a male nurse, and they were said harshly, bluntly, coldly. 

          She couldn’t believe it.  She wouldn’t believe it!  Nothing seemed real anymore, but she would not accept the facts.  Walking in to school, facing a crowd of mourning grieving students, no one even held her hand for support.  It all flew through her now.

          The pain was so immense.  How it hurt to accept it, to open her eyes to a reality she now realized she couldn’t bare.  Carl wouldn’t, or more so couldn’t, hold her hand anymore.  She was alone.  He was gone. Until she is to die herself, he will be gone.

          Seventeen years old and madly in love, that’s who she was until Saturday night.  Wait, no, she took that back.  She was still seventeen, and definitely still madly in love.  No longer was it that she would be engaged.  Her future was no longer promised.  She swore to the day that without him, she couldn’t be happy.  Without him, she couldn’t live.

By: Andria Dawn McMillen

My God has changed my heart

The clock ticks slowly, and the next I realize, its become tomorrow.  Another day lived and passed.  How many more were left?  How much longer must I endure this life?  Listening intently to the sounds coming from the all around the house, it’s become apparent to me that silence isn’t all that silent.  Creak, drip, crackle, chirp, whimper, whine, drop, squeak, snore, KABOOM!  The ice machine dropped off another load of ice, like the stork with the unwelcome baby.  At this I turn to a relevant tangent.  The unwelcome baby, such as myself, like the ice being dropped, has become a useful burden.  No one wants to deal with the trouble.  No one enjoys the sound.  Yet everyone uses it, everyone reaps the benefits.  Click, tick, click, tick, the clock reads 12:02.  Life is running its course far to slow.  My mind is traveling too fast for me to keep up.  Everything eats at my soul.  People’s words replay, images form, and I’m at attack with myself.  Almost like rewinding a scratched CD and playing it over and over to try to get it past that one bad aspect, that one skip, that one scratch.  I taste my own blood, I bit through my cheek again.  I run my tongue over the open wounds and the long formed scars.  No one even knew.  I almost wished to stop sometimes, but I’m afraid that could lead to doing something terrible, something regretted more in the long run.  Such as eating, or speaking.  I worry myself.  Who am I?  I find myself in constant disagreement with myself.  There is never a moment of peace within my soul.  I say that I don’t hate, but I find that now quite untrue.  I have so much hatred, more than any other emotion or feeling, and it seems every drop is directed towards myself.  I know better.  My God knows better.  These demons are consuming, and they have the best of me.  I hope I wither into nothing.  Disappear.  The clock ticks slowly, and I’ll soon find myself in attempt to sleep through this next day.  I’m not up for a battle; I’m not ready to see another face.  I will encase myself within my demons, and let them whittle away at my soul.  My inspiration for words slowly leaves, Farewell.

Appreciation

She worked another day today,

Heard what each patient had to say.

With delicate hands and a fragile heart,

She worked through each day as though she’d just start.

Dressed in scrubs with sterile hands,

She did of which her job demands.

Medical records lay before her eyes,

A little piece of her heart now dies.

She weighed a girl, who starved her self,

Restocked an old abandoned shelf.

To read the temperature of an infant boy,

Was like a death sentence to his mothers joy.

Checked in a case of the common cold,

A teenage pregnancy didn’t go untold.

Diabetes discovered in another young man,

Each day she swears to do all she can.

God took a life as she stood in the room,

She bowed her head to pray and dress another wound.

The life of a nurse, stressful but worth it,

And filled with compassion, too much to be writ.

So she worked another day today,

And tucked her tears and pain away.

Working full-fledged with her big heart,

She never wore out, as though she’d just start.

Empowered through which her job demands,

Doctors and nurses go hand-in-hand.

So pay your respects, look through their eyes,

To see the inspiration that is never to die.

Unexpected

On her knees, face buried in the floor, tears were streaming down her blood-rushed face. Praying, and praying hard, the Holy Ghost had blessed her with His presence. She was on a high, and drugs could never match it. She wasn’t even looking to find God that night, and she definitely wasn’t listening to the curb-dwelling preachers. In some hidden home with a woman she hardly knew, her eyes were opened to her almighty God.
Only an hour ago her complete intentions were to shoot up again, maybe take a few too many pills. She even had a loaded pistol in her car, and her temple yearned to feel that cold unwelcomed strangeness. Someone like her had no business in Heaven or eternal life. Hell would be her home. An eternal death was all that she deserved. But somehow, she ended up in this house, and she knew with conviction that God was with her now, and would be forever. She could be so much more through Him then she ever was before.
A mama with out the custody of her kids, an ex wife who was lost in the world. She fell hard and fast, only twenty-two and on her own. She fought through her life, and was hopelessly addicted to that which slowly sucked her life away. Now she lay in tears at the blessing arising. The feeling she felt, she was one with God, she was better than who she was.
Her mind wandered now, in attempt to figure out how she got to where she lay now. Long blonde stringy hair wisped in the harsh cold winds. Her face was washed out, and her arms were bruised. Brown eyes searched the city streets, desperate for an escape from this life. What she liked to call “Bible Thumpers” were perched on almost every street corner preaching of a God she questioned if they followed. Their words were meaningless to her, absolutely meaningless. She had a much different fate in mind then the happiness of the eternal life they spoke of.
Finally, she found her beat up ragged car parked on the side of the road where she left it. Sitting in the front seat her shivering hands loaded the gun she had only just illegally bought. Sitting it down in the passenger seat the franticly searched her worn out leather purse for her two most important contents, a needle fresh with heroin, and a bottle filled with ecstasy. A belt pulled tight on her upper arm, she shook as she bit the lid off the needle. With the sky growing dark she jumped when there was a sudden tap on her window. She sat down her needle and hesitantly opened the car door. This is where God started today’s journey.
A woman, she had never seen stood before her. This wasn’t surprising seeing as she rarely paid any attention to the world around her. “ Would you come with me please?” Her voice was soft and reassuring. Almost involuntarily she stood and followed, leaving behind her gun, pills and needle. Gracefully the woman stepped through the woods and she followed without a word. The tree’s reached down, and from the city back roads they had ventured into an entirely new wonderland. Snow trickled off the trees onto her hair, but she was so numb she couldn’t feel the sting of the morbidly cold weather.
On this unexpected adventure she had learned what honest confusion was. To ignore the questions without answers, she watched this strange woman. Her hair was wavy, and it only reached her shoulders. The dark brown contrasted against the delicate white snow. Her body was slim, and she seemed simple, quaint, and yet very content with her life. She wondered how this woman lived this way. All she ever wished was to be happy with her self.
They reached a small house, surrounded by nothing more than trees and nature itself. Being in the presence of this strange place gave her an intense feeling of security. She was sure her life was changing moment by moment. Everything felt so real, and as the numbness wore away she felt the sting of the snow hit her face.
She never doubted, never questioned, but followed a strange lady into a comforting home. Suddenly, an elated sensation washed over her. She sat on the couch, placed in a simple fashion with the rest of the furniture pieces. There another journey took place, through a conversation between the two of them, lines were crossed and there was no return.
Words were shared of a God that has yearned for her soul this entire time. She wasn’t alone. She was never alone. Everything she questioned, she was a fool to question the Almighty! He touched her through a woman whose name she never caught. The Holy Spirit lived inside of her and she was not her own.
On her knee’s, crying out in joy. She was found tonight. She felt, she loved, and life was real. Everything was real. Everything would be okay from here on out. She is God’s child. A smile on her face, she looked to the Heavens with appreciation.

By: Andria Dawn 11-10-09

Here lie the remnants of what was once a stable life.  Every night you sleep in fear of what waits in the morning.  You have done all you can to be the best version of yourself, yet still the life around you remains shaky.

            Have things ever been any different?  Have the knots in your stomach ever not been there?  Sure, once upon a time you fit in with your surroundings.  Once upon a time you were weak, dependant, insecure, unstable, impulsive, depressed, rebellious, obsessive, self-destructive, and so much more.  Yes, this is your eating disorder we’re describing.

            So, you still struggle?  You still want to fall into that person?  Look around you, do you honestly wish to fit into the chaos?  Are you not any better than that?

            Your right, you’re not any better than that, but what you believe in is.  What you’ve grounded yourself in is strong, and much bigger than your struggles.  Your background is polluted, your roots are disintegrating; however your renewal is eternal, and your repentance is pure.

            Yes, your surroundings reflect the person you were, and the person you were working to become.  Yes, returning would be easy.  No, it’s not worth it.  No, your life does not have to be as condemned as you once were.

            In clarification, I’d like to state that you are nothing.  You are worthless, weak, dependent, insecure, unstable, impulsive, depressed, rebellious, obsessive, self-destructive, and so much more.  Yes, this is you we’re describing.

            So, you’re still struggling?  Yeah, you always will.  Now look around you, do you really want to be average? Either way, you are and always will be.  You’re not any better than that on your own. However, what you believe in is.

            Our God is bigger than you, your life, your world, and everything you go through.  Our God is worthy, strong, independent, secure, stable, calm, perfect, just, level, encouraging, and so much more. 

            Stop the self-pity, step back, and look at life.  Our God is almighty!  We are nothing but His creation, so, who are we to live for ourselves?  Who are we to continue falling into our evil and sinful demons?  You may be able to handle it now, but you will get nowhere with out our Creator, our God.

“ When the unclean spirit has gone out of a person, it passes through waterless places seeking rest, but finds none.  Then it says, ‘I will return to my house from which I came.’ And when it comes it finds the house empty, swept, and put in order.  Then it goes and brings with it seven other spirits more evil than itself, and they enter and dwell there, and the last state of that person is worse than the first.  So also will it be with this evil generation.”

                                                                                                            Matthew 12:43-45

Hey Daddy

Hey daddy, I need you now more then ever.

Hey mommy, get your life together.

Didn’t I have siblings?  Where’d they go?

Were we ever a family?  I wouldn’t know.

Do you see the hatred in my eyes?

The love for myself slowly dies.

Break, mirror, break.  Shatter into pieces.

I hate this reflection, the pain never seizes.

What’s wrong with me daddy?  Why do I cry?

Where are you mommy? I know that you try.

Brother, brother, so many, do you care?

Sister, sister, it’s my heart that you tear.

Daddy, your wife, she has two faces.

Mommy, listen, my heart races.

Friends, I know you stand, ready for all,

But aren’t you tired, waiting for my fall?

Long awaited love, your great and grounded in God,

But I’m so far from what you need, I’ve learned to smile and nod.

If I were you, I’d walk away.

If it were I, I’d be scared to stay.

Falling apart, from inside to out,

Terrified of myself, I just want to shout.

Is hell worth the life I’d take?

Living this way is nothing but fake.

I live against my will unable to choose,

I hate all I’ve become, step into my shoes.

I’m sorry, for living this way,

I’m sorry that you watch, or even stay.

Andria Dawn McMillen 6.16.10

They say all’s fair in love and war.  But if you ask me, those are the two things that are never fair.  How many times has someone cheated in a war?  Sneak attack, spies, secret weapons, and whatever else it takes to win!  How many people claim love?  Now, how many people live in love?  How is it fair to say one thing, and show another?  So really, is anything fair?  Not love, war, hate, or even peace.  Will anyone ever be satisfied?  So tell me this, who are we to say all is fair in anything?   

Affection. Attention.  These are sore topics in our society.  While we all strive for them, we never vocalize what it is we’re striving for.  Either we have too much or not enough, but it never equals out.  Teenage rebellions, adult tension, we all get there with too much affection, a little too much attention.  Depression, anxiety, promiscuity, eating disorders, self-mutilation, adultery, we see it every day from lack of what our bodies, minds, and souls long for.  Eventually you don’t even want their attention, you simply want to continue down the path your heading.  A simply touch, a brush, a hug, it leaves you gasping for air.  You had it for a moment, and now its gone.  You’ve lost your knowledge of where you stand, the line is blurred, and you’re on edge.  What is wrong with our society?  What ever happened to parenthood?  Childhood?  The generation coming up is stepping up.  Kids, teenagers, young adults, they’re setting the examples.  The last generation dwindles.  Very rarely do you see our adults taking their responsibility.  What happened to God’s original vision?  Everyone acts as though they’re deficient in the amount of attention they’re shown, the affection they receive.  It looks as though our world is godless and falling apart, but I see my generation.  I see the people around me rising.  I see God working, and maybe our world is crap, but I see my God through it all.  Let God supply your affection, your attention.  Let God be all He wishes to be.  We need Him.

8-4-10

andriadawn

A Summer to Forget

She curled up next to him, and snuggled in close.  His body heat surrounded her, and for a moment she was content.  With closed eyes, drifting into a light sleep, it all came rushing back to her. 

            Three guys, pushing, shoving, and yelling.  All she could do was scream.  They were all so much bigger than her.  “No! Stop it!” was all she could manage to sputter up in the madness.  Sobbing, screeching, she watched them laugh.  “She wants it! She wants you to take it!” The tan one muttered.

            She fought with all the might she could muster, but it was useless.  She was in the passenger seat of their truck, in an unfamiliar pasture, in a situation she led herself into.  Absolutely helpless, she lay there as one guy in the back seat held her down.  The driver helped strip her clothing as the third guy had his way.  He took all she had left, robbed her of the last of her innocence. 

            The pain seared.  Mentally, Physically, emotionally, she couldn’t fight anymore.  As the three guys switched up, she silenced her screams, let her body go limp, and let the tears flow.  Each boy had a turn, and once they were satisfied they agreed to drp her off on the road where she stayed.

            She was living with her mother and her fiancé for the summer, in a new town, with no friends and no form of contact. Some of the local boys knew her mum, and so she confided in them as friends. She had snuck out to go to a fight with them, when she realized something was terribly wrong. 

            Walking up her dark, deserted road, she wept.  She had to find a way to forgive them with time.  They had connections, and this getting out could cause her mother great trouble around town.  So that was it. It was her own little secret of a devastating theft.

            Now alone in her current room, she was without her father’s comfort.  Soaked in her own blood, she wouldn’t let herself believe it was anyone’s fault but her own.  Tucking it away, painting on a smile, she was thirteen and all grown up.  She hated herself for what she’d let herself become, and do anything to forget about it.

            As a single warm tear fell down her cheek, she began to fall into her eating disorder once again.  It had always been there, and always been easily triggered.  Wrapped tightly with the love of her life, she knew her past must remain her past.  Forgiveness is key, though it’d never rid her of the internal pain.

            His arms cradled her now, and all was simply perfect for a single moment.  With newfound salvation, she would grow for her traumatizing experiences.  All would remain perfect as long as they were together, through God and God alone.

           

By: Andria Dawn McMillen