We spend our entire lives trying not to die that I think we've forgotten how to live.
We plan our wills, write out our plans, and prepare for the inevitable. Taking pictures left and right because, "I want to have it forever!"
What are we going to leave our loved ones when we go? Where will we go when we die? And when that doesn't satisfy us, we loom over others pressuring them about their life choices and where they will go when they die. "YODO: You Only Die Once!"
What about life has us believing that it has to be so perfect? What are we missing? Is it love? Is it hate?
It's empathy.
We've forgotten what Jesus has said over and over and over again. We have also forgotten that he has dined with sinners. Not to accept them in their sin, but understand where they are, and lead them to redemption but meeting them where they are at. Doesn't mean he's encouraging or approving their path of sin, he's simply trying to show them the narrow way through understanding and love. No yelling, no heated glares, no scorn, or hatred; but love in it's purest of forms. Love in seeing their pain, and their flaws, but encouraging them to be a better person; to set an example that can inspire them to become a better person.
I'm a little me, and I have little to give. I'm looked over often, I prefer two or three friends instead 500, and I'm not too concerned with much else but family and God. The fact that our God, who had made himself human, had dined with sinners and saints, could possibly love me, is beautiful.
To stop wondering why God has chosen little me, and instead thanking him for it. He's chosen all of us. Some miss it, some embrace it, and some fight it. Our jobs: to meet them where they're at with empathy, in love, to encourage righteousness. There is no greater gift than that, no matter how we are called to do it.
We have forgotten how to live because we think we are alone. I'm a little me, and sometimes that's enough, but with a little me, and a lot of God, there is much to be done. And in this endeavor, being enclosed and scornful will not do. Something I think I'm still learning today, possibly will never stop learning. Thankfully, I have a whole lifetime to practice, however long that may be. :)
In Christ,
Gwen
Saturday, June 6, 2015
Monday, May 4, 2015
Alive or Alone?
I usually don't like to go into great detail about my infamous break-up that I had reacted to horribly at the young age of fifteen. There are maybe a handful of people that know that entire story (and they were there), the rest being family members that I've told all the details to. It's an awkward thing for me, and something I'm not proud of. I still want to see the young man again, if anything to apologize. I like to pretend that it was all his fault, but come on, relationships work both ways.
I'm bringing this up, not to describe it, but to say how it changed me. How I changed in the eyes of people. I became better friends with a couple people, and worse with others. Some I don't even talk to anymore. Maybe not because of that incident, but it feels like that some days.
In my eyes, I had been young, reckless, and had never been explained to what love really meant. I flung myself hopelessly into a whirl wind of emotion that was my downfall. I find even now that I can't tell people. I feel flawed, or untrustworthy somehow. "Look at me, I dated too young and was a reckless moron." It's a shameful and naked feeling. We never did anything physical (not even hand holding) but somehow being in that relationship caused me so much hidden shame.
I had people tell me, people I opened up to, tell me, "Wow, you're emotional," and, "You overreacted big time." And somehow that added to shame. I was Christian, I went to church every Sunday, I participated, I was eager to learn, so why do I feel so empty and shameful? Why did I let it effect my relationship with God?
Years went by, and my relationship with God became desperate. I didn't know who I was anymore, who I was going to be, what was going to happen; I avoided people because I didn't want another repeat that would showcase me as irresponsible.
I wasn't sure what to do, opinions about dating and courtship being thrown left in right, and not quite understanding what to do with myself. Which was right? Was it ok to date? My first experience had been bad, but did that make dating bad?
So I picked up Jason Evert, who worded it so beautifully that I was at peace, that I understood relationships finally. The first thing was he said, "I am not proposing that you build an impenetrable wall around your heart but that you guard it with prudence. We can wrestle over the terms courtship and dating , but the essential thing is to glorify God and act wisely." (Jason Evert, If You Really Loved Me.) And then he goes on to say, "Appreciate what you can do for God in your singleness." (Jason Evert, If You Really Loved Me.)
That figurative light bulb that hit me like a freight train destroyed me. Sure, I dated perhaps a little too young, but it wasn't dating that was my downfall, it was that I had inadvertently left God out of the equation. Never begin a relationship until you are responsible, and mature in his eyes, but don't ever think that either terms (courtship, or dating,) are bad. Society tells us one thing, God another.
Sure, I'm single, but the things I can do for God have outweighed my want for a relationship. I continue to make good friends, but I'm more at peace than ever, especially because I've given my time to God. He owns all of it. He wants me in relationship he will give me one, but for now, I will glorify him happily in my single state, and while I still pray for my future spouse, I also thank God for allowing me time to fully give myself to him in my singleness.
Hope that helps,
Gwen
I'm bringing this up, not to describe it, but to say how it changed me. How I changed in the eyes of people. I became better friends with a couple people, and worse with others. Some I don't even talk to anymore. Maybe not because of that incident, but it feels like that some days.
In my eyes, I had been young, reckless, and had never been explained to what love really meant. I flung myself hopelessly into a whirl wind of emotion that was my downfall. I find even now that I can't tell people. I feel flawed, or untrustworthy somehow. "Look at me, I dated too young and was a reckless moron." It's a shameful and naked feeling. We never did anything physical (not even hand holding) but somehow being in that relationship caused me so much hidden shame.
I had people tell me, people I opened up to, tell me, "Wow, you're emotional," and, "You overreacted big time." And somehow that added to shame. I was Christian, I went to church every Sunday, I participated, I was eager to learn, so why do I feel so empty and shameful? Why did I let it effect my relationship with God?
Years went by, and my relationship with God became desperate. I didn't know who I was anymore, who I was going to be, what was going to happen; I avoided people because I didn't want another repeat that would showcase me as irresponsible.
I wasn't sure what to do, opinions about dating and courtship being thrown left in right, and not quite understanding what to do with myself. Which was right? Was it ok to date? My first experience had been bad, but did that make dating bad?
So I picked up Jason Evert, who worded it so beautifully that I was at peace, that I understood relationships finally. The first thing was he said, "I am not proposing that you build an impenetrable wall around your heart but that you guard it with prudence. We can wrestle over the terms courtship and dating , but the essential thing is to glorify God and act wisely." (Jason Evert, If You Really Loved Me.) And then he goes on to say, "Appreciate what you can do for God in your singleness." (Jason Evert, If You Really Loved Me.)
That figurative light bulb that hit me like a freight train destroyed me. Sure, I dated perhaps a little too young, but it wasn't dating that was my downfall, it was that I had inadvertently left God out of the equation. Never begin a relationship until you are responsible, and mature in his eyes, but don't ever think that either terms (courtship, or dating,) are bad. Society tells us one thing, God another.
Sure, I'm single, but the things I can do for God have outweighed my want for a relationship. I continue to make good friends, but I'm more at peace than ever, especially because I've given my time to God. He owns all of it. He wants me in relationship he will give me one, but for now, I will glorify him happily in my single state, and while I still pray for my future spouse, I also thank God for allowing me time to fully give myself to him in my singleness.
Hope that helps,
Gwen
Tuesday, April 28, 2015
Do What You Will
Why are introductions always so awkward? At some point the beginning of my blog entry is going to be articulate, inspiring, and all together beautiful. Obviously today is not that day.
Anyways, I had a question recently asking how I edited my work. Strangely, I had to think about this one. A real quick look into my archive of Word Documents, and more thinking, finally revealed the answer.
I don't write every chapter of a story on the same document.
*Les Gasp*
Ok, now that that's done, allow me to explain.
I write everything from short-stories, to lengthy books/fanfiction. So, to begin, because editing has to start somewhere, I have different folders for different works. I.E: Fan Fiction has its own folder, my books have its own folder, and all of my short-stories belong in one folder together. This is to keep them accessible, and easily organized.
The next step to easy editing is to write every chapter (if it is multi-chapter) on a different document. This makes the editing process more smooth, for easier add-ins and notes. So, let's say I have a story labeled, "The French Goodbye." Not a fanfiction, so saved under books. The first chapter will be saved under "The French Goodbye: Part 1." So on and so forth, until there are usually about 25 of these documents.
Once the work is complete, I open the first chapter document, and read it aloud, slowly, fixing only spelling mistakes. I will then read it a second time to someone, and will continue to fix grammatical mistakes. After all of that, I will read through it in my head, and fix plot mistakes. (I.E.: inconsistent age, wrong name, wrong species, etc.) I will then do this (Usually spaced over a week) with every chapter, fixing only those things. (Remember to edit after at least 24 hours of having written something. You'll want the fresh mind-set.)
After all of that is done, I copy and paste everything to a new document (Chapters all pasted on the same document now) so that I can keep the original, but still have fun in toying with the plot.
Now that they're all together, I edit it as if it goes together. Fixing transitions, plot inconsistencies, adding or deleting unnecessary/necessary scenes or descriptions. The first time takes about a week. I usually do this last process another five or six times, then "Ta-da!" You have written your own book/work of fan fiction/short story. (Short stories obviously take an enormously less amount of time).
So, that's that.
With Love,
Gwen
Anyways, I had a question recently asking how I edited my work. Strangely, I had to think about this one. A real quick look into my archive of Word Documents, and more thinking, finally revealed the answer.
I don't write every chapter of a story on the same document.
*Les Gasp*
Ok, now that that's done, allow me to explain.
I write everything from short-stories, to lengthy books/fanfiction. So, to begin, because editing has to start somewhere, I have different folders for different works. I.E: Fan Fiction has its own folder, my books have its own folder, and all of my short-stories belong in one folder together. This is to keep them accessible, and easily organized.
The next step to easy editing is to write every chapter (if it is multi-chapter) on a different document. This makes the editing process more smooth, for easier add-ins and notes. So, let's say I have a story labeled, "The French Goodbye." Not a fanfiction, so saved under books. The first chapter will be saved under "The French Goodbye: Part 1." So on and so forth, until there are usually about 25 of these documents.
Once the work is complete, I open the first chapter document, and read it aloud, slowly, fixing only spelling mistakes. I will then read it a second time to someone, and will continue to fix grammatical mistakes. After all of that, I will read through it in my head, and fix plot mistakes. (I.E.: inconsistent age, wrong name, wrong species, etc.) I will then do this (Usually spaced over a week) with every chapter, fixing only those things. (Remember to edit after at least 24 hours of having written something. You'll want the fresh mind-set.)
After all of that is done, I copy and paste everything to a new document (Chapters all pasted on the same document now) so that I can keep the original, but still have fun in toying with the plot.
Now that they're all together, I edit it as if it goes together. Fixing transitions, plot inconsistencies, adding or deleting unnecessary/necessary scenes or descriptions. The first time takes about a week. I usually do this last process another five or six times, then "Ta-da!" You have written your own book/work of fan fiction/short story. (Short stories obviously take an enormously less amount of time).
So, that's that.
With Love,
Gwen
Friday, March 27, 2015
Let's Take Another 360...
In spite of the fact that I've promised you all I'd start blogging more and journaling, I've done none it. I've actually found myself leaning ever so darker into the abyss that is the existential crisis.
Just when I thought I had left the circle of societal pressure, and beauty magazines as a whole, I found myself flipping through a beauty website again today. Like all other times, there was a present self-doubt accompanied by the sick hope that maybe, just maybe, if I had those products, thicker hair, and a more charming personality I might be more beautiful. I might be encouraged to exercise more and be skinnier, and who knows? Maybe I'd finally be inspired to finish that daft, short novel of mine.
It's a fleeting feeling, I realize, to feel elevated/encouraged by new make-up ideas, brighter, more organic ways to clear skin, or even simple hair masks. Yes, hair masks. Yet, the feeling is often quickly replaced by self-doubt, and a need to do anything to simply be pretty.
I want to look like the ideal Pinterest girl.
Skinny.
Trendy outfits.
Thick, natural curly hair.
Aggravating can't even begin to explain this emotion.
On those notes, I will continue to not let my looks affect my writing, and will be slowly be pulling myself from social media a smidgen. Not selfishly I hope, or jealous of everyone else's looks, but in an attempt to realize that we are all naturally beautiful, even if I don't look like someone else who I believe is more beautiful than me.
Do with this information what you will, but realize, you are more than what society pegs you as.
With love,
Gwen
Just when I thought I had left the circle of societal pressure, and beauty magazines as a whole, I found myself flipping through a beauty website again today. Like all other times, there was a present self-doubt accompanied by the sick hope that maybe, just maybe, if I had those products, thicker hair, and a more charming personality I might be more beautiful. I might be encouraged to exercise more and be skinnier, and who knows? Maybe I'd finally be inspired to finish that daft, short novel of mine.
It's a fleeting feeling, I realize, to feel elevated/encouraged by new make-up ideas, brighter, more organic ways to clear skin, or even simple hair masks. Yes, hair masks. Yet, the feeling is often quickly replaced by self-doubt, and a need to do anything to simply be pretty.
I want to look like the ideal Pinterest girl.
Skinny.
Trendy outfits.
Thick, natural curly hair.
Aggravating can't even begin to explain this emotion.
On those notes, I will continue to not let my looks affect my writing, and will be slowly be pulling myself from social media a smidgen. Not selfishly I hope, or jealous of everyone else's looks, but in an attempt to realize that we are all naturally beautiful, even if I don't look like someone else who I believe is more beautiful than me.
Do with this information what you will, but realize, you are more than what society pegs you as.
With love,
Gwen
Wednesday, March 18, 2015
Existential Crisis
Hello!
So I've seen and read, especially recently, a lot of people going through the common problem often referred to as, "The Existential Crisis." Basically, doubting the importance of their being often accompanied by a large feeling of self-doubt or that you'll never accomplish anything worth noting. (See: The Secret Life of Walter Mitty.)
So I thought I'd share mine because...reasons.
I was doing Trig. today *inwardly groaning*, which ended very anti-climatically in tears.
Yes, tears. Not just that though- no. These tears brought on a wallop of self-doubt, and before I knew it, I had connected the lack of understanding in Trig. with basically every disappointing thing I had ever done, which ended up contributing to how I was a generally disappointing person as a whole.
Real mature, I know.
I turned a math lesson into a self- pity -party which did nothing but emotionally destroyed me for an hour, and made me feel very close to worthless, and like I had no purpose in life.
So before you go on ranting about, "But you have to understand that God will put you where you need to go, and it will all be ok in the end," because I know that bit. That's the bit I've always known since I could basically understand human speech. What I'd like to know is how to survive the bits inbetween that bit. The actual decisions you have to make for yourself. Because seriously, neither society nor your parents tell you the middle part about you actually being an adult. It literally goes over everyone's head.
They don't tell you that Trig. will make you panic because, "I don't know what congruent triangles are, I'm going to fail college!" even when you're not quite sure what you're doing with your life.
They actually sugar-coat that part some.
I did some research on this and it would seem that a surprising number of people suffer from this "mid-life crisis." I may as well be added to that last. I'm not judging, I just spent the last hour crying over math, how ugly I was, how lonely I was, how un-approachable I was, how dumb I was, etc. Don't worry, apparently a lot of people are going through the same thing.
If we're mad, we may as well be mad together, right? *cries*
Yea, so I did that this afternoon. Then ate loads of chocolate and cried about my weight. *bangs head.*
The point is, I suppose, that you're not alone in thinking that you're unimportant, insignificant, and all together unnoticeable. We all go through it. I've even heard some people get over this and do important things with their lives. Who knew, right?
So I'll be keeping a journal (read somewhere that it helped) which I suppose you're supposed to make an entry every day, and then the next day when you go and make another entry, you read yesterday's, and it's supposed to make you feel better or something.
Like, if you wrote "Such a stupid-head today," then the next day you'd read it, kind of smile, and force yourself to feel good about yourself by seeing how ridiculous that entry was. So I'll be hopefully posting about how well that goes for me. *continues crying*
DON'T LET YOUR EMOTIONS RULE YOU.
Anyways, for all you self-doubting people out there, I feel you. We all go through those bad days, and it doesn't feel like it at the moment, but supposedly it's supposed to get better. And you know, you're only young once. May as well enjoy life while your vision is still good. :)
With love,
Gwen
So I've seen and read, especially recently, a lot of people going through the common problem often referred to as, "The Existential Crisis." Basically, doubting the importance of their being often accompanied by a large feeling of self-doubt or that you'll never accomplish anything worth noting. (See: The Secret Life of Walter Mitty.)
So I thought I'd share mine because...reasons.
I was doing Trig. today *inwardly groaning*, which ended very anti-climatically in tears.
Yes, tears. Not just that though- no. These tears brought on a wallop of self-doubt, and before I knew it, I had connected the lack of understanding in Trig. with basically every disappointing thing I had ever done, which ended up contributing to how I was a generally disappointing person as a whole.
Real mature, I know.
I turned a math lesson into a self- pity -party which did nothing but emotionally destroyed me for an hour, and made me feel very close to worthless, and like I had no purpose in life.
So before you go on ranting about, "But you have to understand that God will put you where you need to go, and it will all be ok in the end," because I know that bit. That's the bit I've always known since I could basically understand human speech. What I'd like to know is how to survive the bits inbetween that bit. The actual decisions you have to make for yourself. Because seriously, neither society nor your parents tell you the middle part about you actually being an adult. It literally goes over everyone's head.
They don't tell you that Trig. will make you panic because, "I don't know what congruent triangles are, I'm going to fail college!" even when you're not quite sure what you're doing with your life.
They actually sugar-coat that part some.
I did some research on this and it would seem that a surprising number of people suffer from this "mid-life crisis." I may as well be added to that last. I'm not judging, I just spent the last hour crying over math, how ugly I was, how lonely I was, how un-approachable I was, how dumb I was, etc. Don't worry, apparently a lot of people are going through the same thing.
If we're mad, we may as well be mad together, right? *cries*
Yea, so I did that this afternoon. Then ate loads of chocolate and cried about my weight. *bangs head.*
The point is, I suppose, that you're not alone in thinking that you're unimportant, insignificant, and all together unnoticeable. We all go through it. I've even heard some people get over this and do important things with their lives. Who knew, right?
So I'll be keeping a journal (read somewhere that it helped) which I suppose you're supposed to make an entry every day, and then the next day when you go and make another entry, you read yesterday's, and it's supposed to make you feel better or something.
Like, if you wrote "Such a stupid-head today," then the next day you'd read it, kind of smile, and force yourself to feel good about yourself by seeing how ridiculous that entry was. So I'll be hopefully posting about how well that goes for me. *continues crying*
DON'T LET YOUR EMOTIONS RULE YOU.
Anyways, for all you self-doubting people out there, I feel you. We all go through those bad days, and it doesn't feel like it at the moment, but supposedly it's supposed to get better. And you know, you're only young once. May as well enjoy life while your vision is still good. :)
With love,
Gwen
Wednesday, March 11, 2015
Why So Furious?
Seabiscuit (2003) has possibly been one of the most well-done book-to-film adaptations ever to hit screens. It was nominated for Best Film in the 2003 Oscars, and although it lost, it's memorable cast and unique screenplay make it one of the best movies of that decade. Lovely as it is as a whole, there is something so thought provoking about individual parts of movies; and Seabiscuit is no exception.
Insignificant to some, there is a conversation that occurs between the jockey (Red Pollard) and the horse's owner (Charles Howard) which is greatly underrated. It happens after a boisterous jockey cuts off Red in a race. Red, having only done smaller, more unrestrained races, responds with curse words and even attempts to cut off the other jockey as well; this causes him to lose the race. Back in the barn, the horse's trainer (Tom Smith), chastises him for his mistake. This leads to an argument that seems to have no resolve, when Charles Howard finally steps up.
He says, "Son, what are you so mad at?"
Red is silent. He knows full well where his anger and aggression comes from, he understands that which haunts him, but it had never occurred to him that someone else might notice too. It may have crossed his mind, that yes, these people who for some reason have welcomed him into their home, fed him without price, would eventually call him out. After all, they've had some time to get to know him. Whatever the reason, Red is thrust face to face with his on-going inner battle. It's poetic, and especially heart-warming that Charles doesn't place the kid's mistake as immaturity, he notices that there are inner problems at hand, and if Red doesn't address them first, then he would get nowhere.
Mr. Howard himself had gone through much in the first half-hour of the film, which allows him to relate to Red's feelings, and see through what the trainer simply could not. Because, after all, in the words of Tom Smith, "You know, you don't throw a whole life away just 'cause he's banged up a little."
With Love,
Gwen
Thursday, February 26, 2015
A Letter to X-genes and Other Nerdiness
Hello fellow writers!
I don't think I've posted much recently, but I shall do my absolute best to get on top of that. More blogging for me, yay!
Another thing, anyone else see that new movie X-Men: Days of Future Past?
Ok, not so new. Actually, it came out last year during the Summer. But I have recently seen it, so I'm using that excuse to shamelessly talk about it!
Why? You ask.
Well, until three months ago, I had never touched anything having to do with X-Men.
Don't get me wrong, I really didn't have anything against it, I just had never had any reason to want to watch it before. The plots looked dull, Wolverine was a scary dude (We've talked before on how easily I get scared), and the animation looked horrific (Not gonna lie here, twelve years later, and the animation hasn't gotten much better). Somehow though, the newest X-Men reached my radar, and some months later I had dragged my sister into watching it with me.
I won't go into any boring details on how that came about, but the movie was awesome. Honestly, it changed my opinion on the movie base as a whole. So, I watched all the other X-Men movies in the period of four weeks (Weak game, I know), and finally got to watch The Wolverine. (I watched it after the four week binge, but in m defense, I had forgotten about that particular movie).
There are many deep, and thought inspiring reasons why I love this particular group of superheros. but I'm going to be less insightful today and give a blunt reason as to why I love these movies. (Did I word that correctly? I feel like I worded that wrong.)
I like the characters. Shock of all shock, I know. But the X-Men characters are so distinctive in everything they do that it's nearly impossible not to be attached to at least one of them.
For instance: Logan and his frequent use of "bub", especially when the person he's referring to is on his bad side at the moment.
Kind of weird, vague, and slightly a rant I had to get that out there.
Anyways, live on my nerdy brothers and sisters, and enjoy your fandoms. :)
With Love,
Gwen
I don't think I've posted much recently, but I shall do my absolute best to get on top of that. More blogging for me, yay!
Another thing, anyone else see that new movie X-Men: Days of Future Past?
Ok, not so new. Actually, it came out last year during the Summer. But I have recently seen it, so I'm using that excuse to shamelessly talk about it!
Why? You ask.
Well, until three months ago, I had never touched anything having to do with X-Men.
Don't get me wrong, I really didn't have anything against it, I just had never had any reason to want to watch it before. The plots looked dull, Wolverine was a scary dude (We've talked before on how easily I get scared), and the animation looked horrific (Not gonna lie here, twelve years later, and the animation hasn't gotten much better). Somehow though, the newest X-Men reached my radar, and some months later I had dragged my sister into watching it with me.
I won't go into any boring details on how that came about, but the movie was awesome. Honestly, it changed my opinion on the movie base as a whole. So, I watched all the other X-Men movies in the period of four weeks (Weak game, I know), and finally got to watch The Wolverine. (I watched it after the four week binge, but in m defense, I had forgotten about that particular movie).
There are many deep, and thought inspiring reasons why I love this particular group of superheros. but I'm going to be less insightful today and give a blunt reason as to why I love these movies. (Did I word that correctly? I feel like I worded that wrong.)
I like the characters. Shock of all shock, I know. But the X-Men characters are so distinctive in everything they do that it's nearly impossible not to be attached to at least one of them.
For instance: Logan and his frequent use of "bub", especially when the person he's referring to is on his bad side at the moment.
Kind of weird, vague, and slightly a rant I had to get that out there.
Anyways, live on my nerdy brothers and sisters, and enjoy your fandoms. :)
With Love,
Gwen
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