Sleepless Conviction

Dear Readers,

I confess to you that I've not been lazy about my blog, but have truly had writer's block. I haven't known what to write about. I'm sure it will come back to me in time. As for the next couple or few entries, I've decided to offer up to you some of my work from my creative writing course. I'd been assigned to write a fiction piece set in the culture I'm familiar with. This is what I came up with. I hope you enjoy.

Sleepless Conviction

by Mandy Jones

The only thing she hated about summer was the fact that the neighbors seemed to enjoy sharing their personal lives with the entire block by screaming at each other outside.
“Come on!” Leah thought to herself. “It’s three o’clock in the frickin’ morning.”
To be honest she didn’t know for sure if it was this argument that was keeping her up all night, or the one she had 15 hours earlier. Ava left rehab again and refused counseling.
A free spirit on the surface, Ava had a storm of turmoil constantly brewing in her heart. It was the inner anguish that she felt that turned her to drugs in the first place. In the beginning, she was simply taking a prescribed anti depressant, but it wasn’t enough. She quickly turned to the mind numbing effects of narcotics. For a long time Leah had sympathy for her sister. After all, she knew why she hurt so badly. Ava miscarried in her late teens and never recovered from the pain searing loss. But enough was enough. It had been too long, and she had hurt too many people in the process.
The anger Leah felt toward her little sister was boiling in her heart. Nothing seemed to dial down its intensity.
“She’s ruining her life!” Leah screamed into the blackness of the night.
The one thing that she really needed to focus on could not remain in her mind long enough for her to feel the weight of its importance, her topical presentation for her dissertation. Leah was an archeology doctoral candidate that was falling apart. She would have liked to have compared herself to Indiana Jones, but she couldn’t keep her head on straight. He could save an ancient artifact from getting into the wrong hands and still teach a lecture on the difference between Egyptian and Central American pyramids. Leah couldn’t even maintain a relationship with her sister to say anything about focusing on her future.
Leah had always seemed so much stronger than Ava. She was a statue which protected her emotions and heart. She had always known what to do and what to say, following her mother’s lead as they looked after her fragile baby sister together. It could no longer be that way again. Leah’s watchful eye could not protect Ava from self destruction.
The hours moved so slowly, each minute that passed ached. She became very conscious of each motion she made, tossing and turning every 30 seconds. The thought occurred to her that she should just get up but stopped, thinking, “If I only get an hour or even 20 minutes I could....”
The thought was never complete. She knew that an hour or 20 minutes would make no difference. As the blaring oration next door died down she began to replay the conversation she had had with Ava in her head.


“I can do this, Leah. I wish you could just trust me.” Ava pleaded with her sister.
“How can I trust you after all you’ve done?” Leah felt like she was choking on the words.
“That’s not fair. I’m not the only one who has done something wrong here. And I’m trying to change, but I need your support.” Ava begged.
“You would have my support if you were more willing to get help.”
“I am willing.”
“Really? Really? Is that so? Then why the hell are you in my living room instead of rehab? Why aren’t you sitting down with a therapist rather than laying frickin’ problems at my feet? You are completely unwilling, ungrateful, and selfish? You don’t think about anyone, but yourself!”
“I couldn’t stay there.” Ava said still pleading. “The doctors, the counselors; they didn’t care about me. And the people there, they were nothing like me.”
“You mean addicts? Because you’re kind of wrong there.”
“I don’t mean that. I mean they just.....they....you won’t understand!”
“You’re right, I don’t. I don’t understand how you can be so selfish! How you can just throw your life away without giving a thought about those who love you and care about you!” Leah shouted. “I’m done being your crutch.” Her voice became muffled.
“My crutch? I don’t need a crutch. I need a friend, a sister.”
“You don’t even know what that means. But I’m afraid I can’t be that for you either. Please leave.”
“Leave?”
“Yes. Get out!” Leah’s voice cracked. “I can’t even look at you right now! You’ll never be anything more than this, and I can’t watch it. Get out.”
Leah’s face went from a burning pink to ghostly pale. She walked to the door slowly, but with visible force. Her eyes glared intently into space as her head tilted downward. She opened the door of the apartment not once looking up at her sister. Ava went from a state of confidence, which had been clear in her stature, to complete brokenness resulting in a waterfall of tears. She covered her face and ran out. Leah wouldn’t look, but she still caught a glimpse of her sister’s burgundy curls flying out the doorway.
A single tear fell down her gray cheek as she slammed the door shut. One minute went by, then two. The strong statue finally fell. Leah, still clutching the door knob, collapsed under the weight of the conversation. The tears quickly became uncontrollable. She crawled on her hands and knees to the living room rug, curled up into the fetal position, and cried for what seemed like an eternity.

As the moments of the previous day were recaptured in her memory, a sudden shift occurred. She repeated in her head the angry words she had said earlier over and over again. “You’ll never be anything more than this.”
The anger melted away, or perhaps not. Perhaps it was just redirected. As the repetition of thoughts lingered in her head a small voice deep in her heart began to say, “What have you done?” Had she completely ruined her relationship with the one person who has meant the most to her?
Seven AM slowly approached. Leah quietly lay as a new tear trickled down to her pillow, the slow motion of a sleepless night seemingly making it splash. Her heart slowed, and she began to drift off. Beep!! The new day was here, and she would have to make it through her presentation with only 30 seconds of sleep.
The morning was full of just going through the motions. Somehow Leah was showered, dressed, and ready to go without recollection of any of it happening. The coffee got made, the bagel got toasted, and the cat got fed. The robot that was Leah functioned without a thought. However, the pieces of her heart still lay on the living room rug. She sat on her couch to collect her thoughts. “How can I possibly get through this day?” She asked her tabby cat Elvis, who reveled in each stroke of Leah’s hand on his velvety neck.
As strong as she could make herself, Leah stood up. She leaned over to put her cell phone in her purse. She stopped for a moment and stared at it’s blank screen. There had been no calls, no messages. Her heart sank. “I don’t know what I’d do without her.”
Leah called Ava. “Hello?” Ava answered.
Silence.
“Leah? You there?”
“Yeah.” Leah pushed the nearly inaudible words out of her mouth. “I’m here.”
“Are you okay?”
Silence.
“Leah, you’re kind of scaring me.”
As if Leah had picked up the pieces of her heart off the rug and tried squeezing them into her chest she confessed, “I’m so sorry.”
“Oh, Leah.” Her words were filled with tenderness.
“We’ll talk.” It was the only sentence Leah could think to say.
“Of course. Good luck today.”
“Thanks.” It was a quiet release, but the word was strong.
As Leah hung up the phone, a flood of emotion came pouring into her soul, yet somehow a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Her sister was okay, and now so was she. She didn’t know how to help her sister, but she realized that she loved her. That was a start. There was no resolution. There was no ending to the story, but she knew that at the very least a new beginning could be had. Leah put her things in her purse, and walked to the door. Her strides had conviction. She was going to love Ava wholeheartedly whatever that may look like, but for the next few hours she would be focused on her future. Maybe she was at least a little bit like Indiana Jones.

Hope you enjoyed it!

With Love,

Mandy

So, as those who have been chosen of God, holy and beloved, put on a heart of compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience; bearing with one another, and forgiving each other, whoever has a complaint against anyone; just as the Lord forgave you, so also should you.
Colossians 3: 12-13

Goal Achieving Year

Dear Readers,

My apologies for several weeks flying by without my writing a single word. I confess to you that it was simply because I have an uncertainty in my heart toward the Christmas season so I didn't know what to say. I want to write in my blog what I know, and this is an area of my life that I am still working out. One thing I can say about the past few weeks in assurance is how grateful I am that I had the opportunity to celebrate Chanukah this year and have a deep appreciation for its meaning and importance to my faith as a disciple of Christ. It was good enough for Jesus to celebrate, so there for it is more than good enough for me to make a part of my life. I don't know that there is any wrong or right answer when it comes to holidays, but I do know that I am truly excited to make holiday traditions surrounding Chanukah for years to come.

However, that season is over, and now we are in a new season. A season of reflection and renewal. A season when each person can look at their life, throw out the bad, and make something new and good. There is no rhyme or reason why this couldn't be done any other time of the year, but there is just something so satisfying about getting a new start at the beginning of each year. We create goals and resolutions. If we are determined and want it enough those goals and resolutions can and will be realized. It's a time of hope for all people of all generations. Some people choose to take this time of year lightly and make resolutions that never really have then intention of keeping. Some people make resolutions they are set on achieving, but don't quite make it through the year. Others are determined and focused. They are challenged, yet persist.

Which one am I? I'm usually some where between the first two. I either don't care enough or I set my expectations to high, lose focus, and it falls apart somewhere between April and July. So this year I've decided to approach things a little differently. This year one of my goals is to become that third person. Yes....I'm making achieving my goals whole heartedly my absolute number one goal. I know it's a long shot, but as they say insanity is doing the same thing over again expecting the same result. I want to become the type of person that achieves goals before I actually go trying to get somewhere. Disciplined, focused, determined, and uh...goal oriented. I have a lot of other goals I'd like to set, and I need those goals to be able to measure the outcome of the first. We'll see where this year takes.

With love,

Mandy

"Brethren, I do not regard myself as having laid hold of it yet; but one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and reaching forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus."

Philippians 3: 13-14

Post Thanksgiving Thanksgiving

Dear Readers,

I had every intention to write a blog for Thanksgiving. To write about the gratitude I have in my life for all God has blessed me with. And I considered and thought about it for a good week. Then I ran out of time to consider and think. All I got out was an inspired introduction about how important a holiday it is and how it is overshadowed by the consumerism of Christmas. Nothing more came out of it. This is mostly due to the fact that I didn't take into account how busy I would be last week before I would go off to celebrate the holiday in North Carolina with my family. So for that I apologize.

My procrastination and lack of time may have been a blessing in disguise though. I am now feeling convicted to share my heart about gratitude. It is not Thanksgiving anymore. Is in any less necessary for me to have a heart of gratitude? Absolutely not. In fact, I think in this time of year when cases of depression sky rockets it becomes even more necessary. Consider for a moment what robs people of joy the most. Is it not the cloudy vision of negativity? A focus on bitterness, resentment, and hurt. I won't deny that these things exist in vastness in our world, but life would be more purposeful and more productive if we approach every circumstance with a grateful heart and a positive outlook. The cloud of sadness that blinds us stops movement and growth. It makes us afraid to go forward, and worst of all it makes us afraid to love.

This has been a huge lesson for me to learn. I used to suffer from a pretty significant depression. During the coldest of winter weeks or in the midst of constant struggle I still sometimes find myself sneaking back onto that path. And that's exactly what it is: sneaking. If I don't focus on gratitude, those pits of sadness just sneak up on me without warning. That's why Paul tells the Philippians to think on what is pure, noble, and lovely. Even when it seems as though none of those things exist, there is always something. Always. That in and of itself brings peace to my very being. I live in a corrupt and cruel world, but there is always something to think on that is pure, noble, and lovely. So I challenge you think on your gratitude and what you are grateful for on a daily basis if possible. Since I offer up that challenge to you I'll offer up my gratitude as well. Maybe it will spur on some ideas for you as well.

I am grateful for:

God being the direction in my life

Salvation in Christ Jesus along with His promises

Spiritual family that encourages, challenges, and spurs me on

Stephanie Hart, my discipleship partner who walks next to me in this life and catches me when I fall

My home and housemates who are family within a family

Deb Lang, my roommate with whom I share my room and my heart

Leigh Erickson, my best friend and constant supporter

All of my sisters in my spiritual family

Sarah Jones, my sister by our parent's blood and Christ's blood

Parents, I count myself so blessed because of the love that I came from and gave me a heart to serve the Lord

Jade and Matt (and Rachel), the same love that was poured into me was poured into them, and I count myself blessed to have them as well

Evan and Emily because anyone who has nephews and nieces know that joy

Rayne fellowship, my home on Sundays and my family everyday

Khanh Ngo, who is a great leader and my big brother in so many ways

Eric Steffan, who is teaching me what being loved by a man of God looks like and simply brings me joy and rest when I'm with him

Kelsey and Josh Monroe, Jake Harvey, Albert Warner and others (so many) who were there for me in some of the roughest moments of my life and will continue to be there for me from afar

Access to God's Word

God's will for my life

Music and singing

Laughter

Lessons learned in struggle

There is so much more. I could go on forever. Just listing these made my heart of gratitude grow so much. Try sharing some of what you are grateful for. It's hard to be depressed when you do.

With Love,

Mandy

Finally, brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything worthy of praise, dwell on these things.

Philippians 4:8

Small Town to City Girl

Dear Readers,

Something you must know about me. I'm a city girl. Not born and raised by any means. I grew up in two different small towns. When you grow up in a small town like Wayland or Mayville one of two things happens. Either because it's what you know you like it, if not love it. Small town living that is. There is something to simplicity and feeling safe. I give it that. Knowing your neighbors and every kid in your high school. But then there is the other side of it. There are those of us that itched to get out. I grew up with wonderful parents and great siblings. Really your classic 1950's scenario. A dog and a cat too. Who wouldn't love that? I really was very very blessed. But the small town got to me. I felt trapped. This was especially true as I got older.

When I got to college I had dreams of running off to New York City. I figured I'd find a tiny overpriced studio apartment in Greenwich Village. I'd work at a diner or cafe as a waitress. I'd struggle to get auditions for the chorus in off Broadway shows so I could work my way to the top. I wanted to be famous among the musical theatre crowd, but not famous enough to get mauled on the streets. It was a perfect dream. I would spend my weekends a jazz clubs and art museums and my days strolling through Central Park.

Now those dreams haven't exactly been realized. I have known some people that have had the opportunity to at least move to New York and love it even though I can't say I know any Broadways stars. However, my dreams have changed a bit. Sure I want to be on stage still. That doesn't go away. But I'd be perfectly happy in community theatre. My real heart's desire is do as the Lord intended for me. To bring His love to those who have an open heart for it.

The fact that I'm a city girl hasn't changed at all even in my desire to serve the Lord. So I'm in Rochester and it's exactly where I want to be. This is the city God has brought me to. And it's the little things about living in the city that I love. For instance, I'm sitting in Starbucks enjoying an egg nog latte and writing in my blog between classes. I love it. You can't do that in Mayville. I also love being in a place that has its own philharmonic orchestra, several Thai and Mediterranean restaurants, and something different to do every weekend. I think the thing I love most about it is the people. There are so many different people all from different walks of life. I'm a people watcher, a trait I proudly received from my mother. And people just make my everyday so interesting. Not to mention there are so many people to love. It's just so exciting for me. I can't say I don't completely love the way and the place I grew up, but I'm so glad to be in this very place now. Exactly where God intended for me to be.

With Love,

Mandy

Godliness actually is a means of great gain when accompanied by contentment.

I Timothy 6:6

A Saga of the Heart

Dear Readers,

When I was a little girl I had quite a vivid imagination as do many children. I dreamt myself out of this world and into a hundred others on an almost daily basis. I played of course the traditional house and school with my sister and friends, but my favorite adventures were the ones that took place far from this world. If when I was seven years old I had known the word mundane I probably would have used it all the time. That is the descriptive word that defined my perspective of the real world as a child. Don't get me wrong. As a child I was quite blessed. I had a mother and father that cared for me very much. But they couldn't help that real life wasn't set up like the stimulating environment of Walt Disney, Lewis Carroll, or C.S. Lewis.

You would have thought that I was quite a reader when I was little, but I wasn't. I hated reading for a long time. I blame that on the fact that books moved too slowly, and I couldn't live them out. I much more enjoyed playing Little House on the Prairie than reading it. And when I was alone I was the master of my own dream world. I remember pretending that I was a poor pauper girl picking flowers in a meadow when I princess came along and invited me to be her playmate and sister. I pretended that I was a magical nanny for children like Mary Poppins, but I improved upon the story in my thinking because I wasn't strict in anyway, and I didn't pretend that our adventures didn't happen. I pretended I was whisked away to Never Never Land by Peter Pan, and we had our own thrilling escapades. These were merely the exploits of my mind, not including the hours I would make believe with my Barbie dolls.

Sometimes I still long for the escapades of my playful imagination from my childhood. I do love to read now which allows for my imagination to be nurtured, but it is so rare a moment that I am able to. And I don't get to play. Not without some regression and others questioning my mental stability. Why does my head still think this way? Why is my hearts so intertwined in a fairytale? Almost a year ago I got my answer. My church family went over a book called Epic by John Eldridge. The book wasn't the answer. It just directed me. The answer is in scripture. It is in Ecclesiastes 3. God has set eternity in my heart. And because I have chosen to follow Him, I get to be a part of His grand adventure. His epic story. My heart which lives in a "fairytale" is made that way because there an epic story that is going on outside of this world. My heart has connected to this so strongly. The idea is so provocative, but it explains so much. Sometimes I wonder about the part that I play in this story. But all that matters is that I have been included, and my heart has been trying to tell me that all along.

Because I think this way I can't help but see God's epic story in every adventure story ever thought up by man. Harry Potter and Star Wars are two of my very favorites. And to think about it brings me complete joy. I've just started the last book in the Wicked series by Gregory Macguire. I am so excited for what I will be able to see in Oz's great conclusion. This perspective in my life has really made my everyday more thrilling.
With Love,
Mandy


He has made everything appropriate in its time. He has also set eternity in their heart, yet so that man will not find out the work which God has done from the beginning even to the end.
Ecclesiastes 3:11

Pesky Prayer Mneumonic

Dear readers,
I have had a cold for over a month now. It's physically wearing because my chronic runny nose keeps me from being able to sleep through the night, my head often hurts, and much of the time I can't breathe through my nose. I am so sick of taking medications that when taken continually can have problematic long term effects like stomach ulcers, liver damage, and high blood pressure. I haven't had my full singing range in quite some time either because of it. It is really quite an annoyance. In attempt to not sound like I'm complaining I pass it off as no big deal verbally. It's just a cold. I get colds all the time. It's better than getting Walking Pneumonia or Bronchitis or the Flu again. But that's not what I'm thinking. I'm so sick of this cold that on occasion I want to punch the wall. I want to take some magic pill to just make it go away. I think to myself, "Why do I always have to feel sick? Why did I get dealt such a crappy immune system? I know that I'm going to get some more severe upper respiratory infection in the winter because I always do, so why can't I just feel well now before the colder weather kicks in?" I don't know the answers at all, and I wish I did. When I really think about these questions another thought plops right into my head. One that convicts me to my core. "How dare I?"

I'm complaining about a stupid cold. Really? I don't cough up a lung everyday of my life and am only expected to live into my 20's like someone with Cystic Fibrosis. I wasn't just diagnosed with with stage four Lung Cancer. I'm never going to have to worry about Marasmus due to a lack of protein available to me. I don't have a life threatening addiction or am at risk of contracting HIV. I have access to the nutrition I need, medical assistance, and education that puts me at low risk for many preventative diseases. Not to mention that even in the case that I might contract something, I have the support of family and friends in my life that so many live with out. The fact of the matter is that I am one of the lucky ones.

So whenever I catch myself complaining about my susceptibility to cold viruses or the fact that I eat less that so many girls that weigh 125 pounds and I still don't look like a super model or that my back aches really badly I have to stop. I have to stop and think about the blessings in my life. And I think about those who are given a different lot in life, and I pray. I pray that those people would be able to know joy in their sufferings. That they would know God's peace in their hearts. That they would have the comfort of the Father's arms wrapped around them, and that they would be a testimony to those around them.

My whole life I've tried to figure out what my dream job is. I've wanted to be an actress, a restaurant owner, a museum archivist, and a television editor. But for what? Myself. To make me happy. That's not life's purpose, and it never will be no matter how much we try to justify it. Self centered people are the most unhappy. We were made to be in relationship not for our own benefit, but for the benefit of others. I want to serve. This is why I want to be a nurse. I want to serve those who can't serve themselves. Who, at that moment in time, are not as lucky as me. And I want to have people to pray for. I will never run out of people to pray for, but why not work in an environment in which I will encounter a new person to pray for everyday, every hour of every day? Then I know I will be truly blessed. That pesky cold won't seem like such a big deal anymore.
With Love,
Mandy


Bless the LORD, O my soul,
And all that is within me, bless His holy name.
Bless the LORD, O my soul,
And forget none of His benefits;
Who pardons all your iniquities,
Who heals all your diseases;
Who redeems your life from the pit,
Who crowns you with lovingkindness and compassion;
Who satisfies your years with good things,
So that your youth is renewed like the eagle.
Psalm 103: 1-5

Joy at the Breaking Point

Dear Readers,

For many of the people I love dearly this week completely sucked. But it is not my intention to talk about negative issues or problems in this blog. The events of this week will be kept in the hearts of those who experienced it and shared only among them. It gets me thinking though. I want to write a positive uplifting blog, but what about when there is nothing to feel positive about? My thoughts? Not possible. It is absolutely not possible to have nothing to feel positive about. The fact of the matter is that there is always something to be rejoicing in. Though I will not disclose the events of this week it must be known that in it all there is a bright shining light at the end of the tunnel. It is a scary road to walk, but those of us involved are not alone and will never be alone in it. Not to mention that in this week there have been the little joys that have sustained us. For instance, I got some excellent grades in school that were a reminder to me that this is exactly where God wants me to be right now. One evening this week several women were at my sister's house just spending an hour or two talking and laughing. Yesterday I was able to go to my friend Val's house to give her a manicure for her birthday and just spend some time together. And for those of us who in those moments of complete brokenness, but know the promises of the Lord can cling to those promises no matter how dismal the situation may be. It is in the brokenness that the Lord is working in our hearts the most. It is just knowing that even when we feel like we have nothing left to offer, God is still using us to fulfill His plan. That is the joy we can cling to in those moments of desperation. God is never failing and always good.

With Love,

Mandy

Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal among you, which comes upon you for your testing, as though some strange thing were happening to you; but to the degree that you share the sufferings of Christ, keep on rejoicing, so that also at the revelation of His glory you may rejoice with exultation.
1 Peter 4: 12-13