There is something to be said for consistency.
...
But I clearly have no authority to say it. So, in a (shameful) attempt to catch up with my current hunt for joy, I am going to rely on the Old Faithful of journal fallbacks...
The List! :o)
Joy is the everpresent, overwhelming devotion of a friend. It is the unexpected word of encouragement from a complete stranger. Joy is the adoration of a mother. It is the way you rock a new outfit from hood to toe. It is a five-page letter delivered with a stamp. Joy is the one who knows your worst and loves you most. It is the burst of creative inspiration on a rainy grey day. It is the smooshed smile on the face of an Englih bulldog. Joy is the miracle of a new life. It is the sale on good-smelling hairdye. It is the intimacy between kindred spirits. Joy is requited love. It is the conviction to shake foundations. It is exploration of an unknown place. Joy is His uninhibited grace.
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Monday, September 27, 2010
Today's joy
Today’s was an afternoon of grey, fall skies. The kind when I can get away with spending all of my time at home wearing leggings, slipper boots, and a soft robe, loving on a warm glass of spiced red wine.
Today’s was an opportunity to work an extra shift for a friend. The kind of shift where I got the chance to share a small piece of my heart with a woman whose (com)passion have only grown stronger with time.
Today’s was the moment of celebrating God’s faithful provision. The kind of provision that planned for the extra hours last week so that I might take the time off for a spontaneous visit with James this week.
Today’s was a day of perspective. The kind of perspective that reveals God’s consideration for all the desires and longings in my heart.
Happy Monday, and happy hunting.
Today’s was an opportunity to work an extra shift for a friend. The kind of shift where I got the chance to share a small piece of my heart with a woman whose (com)passion have only grown stronger with time.
Today’s was the moment of celebrating God’s faithful provision. The kind of provision that planned for the extra hours last week so that I might take the time off for a spontaneous visit with James this week.
Today’s was a day of perspective. The kind of perspective that reveals God’s consideration for all the desires and longings in my heart.
Happy Monday, and happy hunting.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Seeking joy
For as long as I have been able to form coherent, outside-the-box thoughts (which, according to my Google search is sometime after the age of 10(ish)), I have subscribed to the idea that happiness is a choice. And I didn't just subscribed--I crusaded for it. And, for the most part, that worked in my life.
For awhile.
There is something to be said for choosing to be happy despite your circumstances. Despite your mood. Depsite the crabby customers who think that because you have a nametag and run a register you are suddenly a little less human.
But even that thought process is negative. All of the focus is on the "despite the [insert crappy thought]" instead of on the "be happy." It's the same with the way we often approach love. "I love you, even though you forget to call me back. I love you, even though you're a little self-absorbed. I love you, even though..."
Throwing in all of those "despite the's" and "even though's" muddles the happiness and distorts the love. There is an wonderful scene in Valentine's Day in which Shirley MacLaine's character declares that if you love someone, you love all of their best and all of their worst. Not "even though," but rather all of it.
There is something to be said for choosing to be happy, but happy is not enough. Happy is easy. What I want is joy. But joy isn't something that you can just have. Joy takes work. It requires you to intentionally seek it out. And that is what I am going to do.
Each day I am going to seek out those moments that are so sweet they could only have been sent from the Creator. I am going to find them and I am going to share them here. Every day. Because joy is meant to be shared and spilled over from cup to cup.
So here's to a beautiful fall day, and here's to the next.
Happy Sunday, and happy hunting.
For awhile.
There is something to be said for choosing to be happy despite your circumstances. Despite your mood. Depsite the crabby customers who think that because you have a nametag and run a register you are suddenly a little less human.
But even that thought process is negative. All of the focus is on the "despite the [insert crappy thought]" instead of on the "be happy." It's the same with the way we often approach love. "I love you, even though you forget to call me back. I love you, even though you're a little self-absorbed. I love you, even though..."
Throwing in all of those "despite the's" and "even though's" muddles the happiness and distorts the love. There is an wonderful scene in Valentine's Day in which Shirley MacLaine's character declares that if you love someone, you love all of their best and all of their worst. Not "even though," but rather all of it.
There is something to be said for choosing to be happy, but happy is not enough. Happy is easy. What I want is joy. But joy isn't something that you can just have. Joy takes work. It requires you to intentionally seek it out. And that is what I am going to do.
Each day I am going to seek out those moments that are so sweet they could only have been sent from the Creator. I am going to find them and I am going to share them here. Every day. Because joy is meant to be shared and spilled over from cup to cup.
So here's to a beautiful fall day, and here's to the next.
Happy Sunday, and happy hunting.
Friday, August 13, 2010
This is what it looks like when you forget to blog for an entire summer.
I present to you: A List, of Sorts.
Left James in Kentucky yesterday and made the 6 hr drive back by myself. Indiana is a looong state and Louisville has never seemed as far away as it does right now…
It’s NASCAR week in my Podunk town and those race fans want their booze and cigarettes. This race is serious bidness, folks…
On that note, I am so grateful to have a job with decent pay and, once schools starts, will get me 40 hrs each week while simultaneously working with my graduate studies schedule. Not to mention, I work with some A-okay folks…
Even though the wedding is over a year away, planning is underway and on a roll. Date: check. Venue: check. Caterer: check. Decorators: check. Sanity: check…
Allergy season is full swing now. Cue the itchy, puffy, sneezy, leaky, and general miserable auro of hay fever. But with allergy season comes…
Fall! It I so close I can almost taste the crunchy sweetness of dry leaves. And yes, I do go out of my way to step on that particularly crunchy leaf…
Happy Friday, folks. Enjoy it, soak in it, and keep smiling.
Left James in Kentucky yesterday and made the 6 hr drive back by myself. Indiana is a looong state and Louisville has never seemed as far away as it does right now…
It’s NASCAR week in my Podunk town and those race fans want their booze and cigarettes. This race is serious bidness, folks…
On that note, I am so grateful to have a job with decent pay and, once schools starts, will get me 40 hrs each week while simultaneously working with my graduate studies schedule. Not to mention, I work with some A-okay folks…
Even though the wedding is over a year away, planning is underway and on a roll. Date: check. Venue: check. Caterer: check. Decorators: check. Sanity: check…
Allergy season is full swing now. Cue the itchy, puffy, sneezy, leaky, and general miserable auro of hay fever. But with allergy season comes…
Fall! It I so close I can almost taste the crunchy sweetness of dry leaves. And yes, I do go out of my way to step on that particularly crunchy leaf…
Happy Friday, folks. Enjoy it, soak in it, and keep smiling.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Happy Wednesday, folks
I love those days when I'm productive yet don't feel exhausted once I'm done. Today is one of those days. Thank you, Wednesday, for being so awesome. Here's to hoping that tomorrow's day outside in the garden is just as fantastic.
Monday, January 25, 2010
today's to-do list: item #1 - don't get caught
"How do you feel about lists," the bow-tie wearing professor asks the class as his devoted--though admittedly inattentive at this moment--student completes a personal list of tasks that require immediate attention that day. The question catches her attention and she looks up, eager to offer proof of her love of lists. She glances right to smile at the friend beside her who had only finished her own to-do list just minutes previously.
The professor speaks again: "I hate lists."
As swiftly and seemingly casual as possible, the two girls flip their lists facedown so as to elimiate the evidence. Not swift enough, however. The two occupants of the table to their left are both staring with knowing-smirks, fully aware of what has gone down just feet away.
Proceeding with a smile, the professor then reveals to the class that he is actually referring to his disdain of the idea we can achieve spiritual transcendence by following a list of steps. No longer sheepish, the once-inattentive student smiles wider as she imagines the professor's perspective on Joel Osteen and his "seven steps living at your full potential." She stifles a laugh, pretending to clear her throat as she maintains an academic front.
Proceeding with a smile, the professor then reveals to the class that he is actually referring to his disdain of the idea we can achieve spiritual transcendence by following a list of steps. No longer sheepish, the once-inattentive student smiles wider as she imagines the professor's perspective on Joel Osteen and his "seven steps living at your full potential." She stifles a laugh, pretending to clear her throat as she maintains an academic front.
The professor is oblivious to the series of events that just unfolded before his unseeing-eyes and resumes his lecture. All is well with the world.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
#338
I know that He exists.
Somewhere—in Silence—
He has hid his rare life
From our gross eyes.
‘Tis an instant’s play.
‘Tis a fond Ambush—
Just to make Bliss
Earn her own surprise!
But—should the play
Prove piercing earnest—
Should the glee—glaze—
In Death’s—stiff—stare—
Would not the fun
Look too expensive!
Would not the jest—
Have crawled too far!
Somewhere—in Silence—
He has hid his rare life
From our gross eyes.
‘Tis an instant’s play.
‘Tis a fond Ambush—
Just to make Bliss
Earn her own surprise!
But—should the play
Prove piercing earnest—
Should the glee—glaze—
In Death’s—stiff—stare—
Would not the fun
Look too expensive!
Would not the jest—
Have crawled too far!
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
top 5 genuine regrets of my college career.....
1. Failing to see the opportunity to create a specialized major in Women’s Studies in English literature.
2. Neglecting friendships because of my inability to plan ahead and maintain a consistent, responsible, and considerate schedule.
Okay, so that’s only two. Whatever. They’re still regrets. And while it is too late to do anything about the first one, the second one does not have to continue. This will not continue past this weekend. Period.
Because, let’s face it, I miss you both more than I can say.
2. Neglecting friendships because of my inability to plan ahead and maintain a consistent, responsible, and considerate schedule.
Okay, so that’s only two. Whatever. They’re still regrets. And while it is too late to do anything about the first one, the second one does not have to continue. This will not continue past this weekend. Period.
Because, let’s face it, I miss you both more than I can say.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
What do you call the space between the letters A and B?
Why is it that when I need to have an assertive Type A personality, I can only be Type B, but then in other situations when my sanity begs for some Type B ease, all I can do is try to control what I can't?
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Recent points of (almost) interest in my life . . .
On a slightly impressive (yet excessive) note. . .
. . . I started cleaning out my closet today (not in an R. Kelly/Eminem way, but in the literal sense). From it, I have four bags of trash, thre bags of clothes to give away, and at least twenty-five purses in possession (seven of which I will be parting with—and that’s even following the “if you haven’t used it within the last year, pitch it,” rule).
On a slightly more serious note . . .
. . . Sometime between installing our new pool pump last night and me putting a hand in the water this morning, the wiring must’ve gone on the fritz. So I can now say that I have experienced minor electrocution (I say minor because I am still alive and it only made my body go numb as opposed to frying any vital organs). Apart from residual “I feel like I’ve been sitting on my limbs and they’re almost asleep” effects, I am fine and will only et better with time. Needless to say, it was a bit terrifying and I have now met my summer’s excitement quota . . .
On a slightly pathetic note . . .
. . . I finally made it into the fair trade store in Chelsea, MI, where I broke down into tears at the stand with Ugandan jewelry, handmade in Jinja. I’ve never been a supporter of/believer in retail therapy, but it was necessary at his point. I will say, however, that the Ecuadorian scarf and the Congo keychain (Congon, Congonian…?) probably weren’t as necessary as the Ugandan earrings, but I’m not going to feel bad about it, because it was fair trade and it was all 17.5% off (though James tells me that “But it’s on sale,” is an awful excuse. Pssht. What do boys know?).
On a slightly disappointing note . . .
. . . I am still on book #3 of my summer reading list [sighs]. And I only just realized yesterday that I have a 30+ page research paper studying Charlotte Brontë’s feminist influence on the expectations and roles of women in Victorian England.
On an uplifting note . . .
. . . My cat is hysterical, my family is beautiful, and my God is merciful.
. . . I started cleaning out my closet today (not in an R. Kelly/Eminem way, but in the literal sense). From it, I have four bags of trash, thre bags of clothes to give away, and at least twenty-five purses in possession (seven of which I will be parting with—and that’s even following the “if you haven’t used it within the last year, pitch it,” rule).
On a slightly more serious note . . .
. . . Sometime between installing our new pool pump last night and me putting a hand in the water this morning, the wiring must’ve gone on the fritz. So I can now say that I have experienced minor electrocution (I say minor because I am still alive and it only made my body go numb as opposed to frying any vital organs). Apart from residual “I feel like I’ve been sitting on my limbs and they’re almost asleep” effects, I am fine and will only et better with time. Needless to say, it was a bit terrifying and I have now met my summer’s excitement quota . . .
On a slightly pathetic note . . .
. . . I finally made it into the fair trade store in Chelsea, MI, where I broke down into tears at the stand with Ugandan jewelry, handmade in Jinja. I’ve never been a supporter of/believer in retail therapy, but it was necessary at his point. I will say, however, that the Ecuadorian scarf and the Congo keychain (Congon, Congonian…?) probably weren’t as necessary as the Ugandan earrings, but I’m not going to feel bad about it, because it was fair trade and it was all 17.5% off (though James tells me that “But it’s on sale,” is an awful excuse. Pssht. What do boys know?).
On a slightly disappointing note . . .
. . . I am still on book #3 of my summer reading list [sighs]. And I only just realized yesterday that I have a 30+ page research paper studying Charlotte Brontë’s feminist influence on the expectations and roles of women in Victorian England.
On an uplifting note . . .
. . . My cat is hysterical, my family is beautiful, and my God is merciful.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
here's to staying up until after 1:00am with kleenex and the perfect things to say
I pray that I can be half the mom that mine is.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
One locomotive, two locomotive, three locomotive, four...
One of my favorite memories form my childhood is, and I'm not kidding, folks, watching Lamb Chop's Don't Wake Your Mom when I was sick. After Mom would set me up on the living room couch with a sippy cup of sprite, toast, all of the blankets and pillows from my bed, and Puffalump, she'd walk over to the television and insert the beloved VHS tape into the VCR. I was happy as a clam for a beautiful 45 minutes, singing along with Shari Lewis and the whole crew. Thanks to that video, I know how to roll my fingers, eat crackers like a slob, and count seconds in what is perhaps the most accurate manner without the use of a watch.
Happy moment of my week: Don't Wake Your Mom is available in parts on youtube [here]. I do expect you to take 45 minutes out of your day and enjoy yourself. So get to it, kids.
Shari: "Hush Puppy, in the time it takes to say 'One Locomotive,' a second ticks by!"
HP: "Shari, if I say 'One Locomotive,' a second has gone by?"
Shari: "Yes."
HP"So if I say 'One Second,' will a locomotive have gone by?"
Happy moment of my week: Don't Wake Your Mom is available in parts on youtube [here]. I do expect you to take 45 minutes out of your day and enjoy yourself. So get to it, kids.
Shari: "Hush Puppy, in the time it takes to say 'One Locomotive,' a second ticks by!"
HP: "Shari, if I say 'One Locomotive,' a second has gone by?"
Shari: "Yes."
HP"So if I say 'One Second,' will a locomotive have gone by?"
Monday, June 1, 2009
miscellaneous thoughts from the night of june 1st
- Had the opportunity this afternoon to satisfy my urge to be crafty, and I must say, I am rather pleased with the results. Hoorah for finding use for my extra fabric scraps!
- Preparing to start book #2 of my summer’s To-Read list**. 15 books in 13 weeks (not including the PA summer book…and ignoring the fact that Chronicles of Narnia is actually seven books and not just one…and not accounting for the fact that I’ll probably want to read the other two books in Ted Dekker’s series…) So, that’s almost two books per week…I need to get crackin’.
- Counting my blessings (instead of sheep) and am very grateful that I have a job this summer as I watch so many friends struggling with their limited options. I am blessed to be employed at a place where work requires minimal thought and allows me to take as much time off as I want. So blessed.
- Finding myself to be a little--scratch that--unbelievably peeved that my lappy is already malfunctioning. Note to self: send Fitzgerald into Office Depot’s tech department ASAP.
- Missing all of my SAU friends. A lot. I’m so grateful that everyone lives within a 1-hr radius.
**Carrie’s To-Read List: Summer 2009
- Castle in the Sky, Diana Wynne Jones
- PS. I Love You, Cecelia Ahern
- Black, Ted Dekker
- Wide Sargasso Sea, Jean Rhyss
- The No.1 Ladies' Detective Agency, Alexander McCall Smith
- Planet Narnia, Michael Ward
- The Chronicles of Narnia, C.S. Lewis
- Anna Karenina, Leo Tolstoy
- The Awakening, Kate Chopin
- Last of the Mohicans, James Fennimore Cooper
- As I Lay Dying, William Faulkner
- Babylon Revisited, F. Scott. Fitzgerald
- The House of the Seven Gables, Nathaniel Hawthorne
- All Quiet on the Western Front, Erich Maria Remarque
- The Turn of the Screw, Henry James
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
"Out of the wreck I rise" [My Utmost for His Highest, May 19]
God does not keep His child immune from trouble; He promises, "I will be with him in trouble . . ." ( Psalm 91:15 ). It doesn’t matter how real or intense the adversities may be; nothing can ever separate him from his relationship to God. "In all these things we are more than conquerors . . ." ( Romans 8:37 ). Paul was not referring here to imaginary things, but to things that are dangerously real. And he said we are "super-victors" in the midst of them, not because of our own ingenuity, nor because of our courage, but because none of them affects our essential relationship with God in Jesus Christ. I feel sorry for the Christian who doesn’t have something in the circumstances of his life that he wishes were not there.
"Shall tribulation . . . ?" Tribulation is never a grand, highly welcomed event; but whatever it may be— whether exhausting, irritating, or simply causing some weakness— it is not able to "separate us from the love of Christ." Never allow tribulations or the "cares of this world" to separate you from remembering that God loves you ( Matthew 13:22 ).
"Shall . . . distress . . . ?" Can God’s love continue to hold fast, even when everyone and everything around us seems to be saying that His love is a lie, and that there is no such thing as justice?
"Shall . . . famine . . . ?" Can we not only believe in the love of God but also be "more than conquerors," even while we are being starved?
Either Jesus Christ is a deceiver, having deceived even Paul, or else some extraordinary thing happens to someone who holds on to the love of God when the odds are totally against him. Logic is silenced in the face of each of these things which come against him. Only one thing can account for it— the love of God in Christ Jesus. "Out of the wreck I rise" every time.
**Text that has been underlined and bolded is my own [carrie's] emphasis**
"Shall tribulation . . . ?" Tribulation is never a grand, highly welcomed event; but whatever it may be— whether exhausting, irritating, or simply causing some weakness— it is not able to "separate us from the love of Christ." Never allow tribulations or the "cares of this world" to separate you from remembering that God loves you ( Matthew 13:22 ).
"Shall . . . distress . . . ?" Can God’s love continue to hold fast, even when everyone and everything around us seems to be saying that His love is a lie, and that there is no such thing as justice?
"Shall . . . famine . . . ?" Can we not only believe in the love of God but also be "more than conquerors," even while we are being starved?
Either Jesus Christ is a deceiver, having deceived even Paul, or else some extraordinary thing happens to someone who holds on to the love of God when the odds are totally against him. Logic is silenced in the face of each of these things which come against him. Only one thing can account for it— the love of God in Christ Jesus. "Out of the wreck I rise" every time.
**Text that has been underlined and bolded is my own [carrie's] emphasis**
Sunday, May 17, 2009
not all surprises are welcome
um, thanks. but no chance in this lifetime.
do not pass go. do not collect $200. leave me alone.
do not pass go. do not collect $200. leave me alone.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
reason #2349798784 to keep smiling
"With that kind of hope to excite us, nothing holds us back." 2 Corinithians 3:12 (The Message)
Sunday, April 26, 2009
here's to you, mrs. mosby
nothing good happens after 2am, so why am i still awake?
good question, carrie. let's go to sleep.
alright, optimist carrie. let's try that.
good question, carrie. let's go to sleep.
alright, optimist carrie. let's try that.
Monday, April 20, 2009
It's like ten-thousand spoons, when all I need is a knife
Looking back on the key moments in my life thus far, I remember how confident I had been, never feeling more sure about the direction in which I was moving than I did at each and every one of those moments:
. . . the visit to CMU that solidified my enrollment at Spring Arbor . . .
. . . the discovery that I needed to study English Lit. despite the fact that I want nothing to do with writing, teaching, publishing, or lawyering . . .
. . . the afternoon spent hastily filling out countless forms before an upperclassman would take the unexpected spot on the Uganda trip . . .
It’s not every day that I feel so much of God’s peace all at once.
I’m still too close to these moments to really understand why they occurred, but I could tell by the heat that I was on the right track.
I can tell by this heat that I am on the right track.
But this confidence is new to me and is making me antsy. I have so much peace that I am uncomfortable. Seems a bit counterproductive, eh?
. . . the visit to CMU that solidified my enrollment at Spring Arbor . . .
. . . the discovery that I needed to study English Lit. despite the fact that I want nothing to do with writing, teaching, publishing, or lawyering . . .
. . . the afternoon spent hastily filling out countless forms before an upperclassman would take the unexpected spot on the Uganda trip . . .
It’s not every day that I feel so much of God’s peace all at once.
I’m still too close to these moments to really understand why they occurred, but I could tell by the heat that I was on the right track.
I can tell by this heat that I am on the right track.
But this confidence is new to me and is making me antsy. I have so much peace that I am uncomfortable. Seems a bit counterproductive, eh?
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
My thoughts on NYC, playlist not included…
I hate Times Square the way it is now. It is obnoxious. It is dirty. It is full of people pushing, shoving, and shopping.
I love Times Square for the potential that it has to become something far greater (Go find Hutch if you don’t believe me. He hangs out on the corner of 7th and 34th. Talk about perseverance through trials. What an inspiration that man was).
After spending nine full days in New York City, I have been intentionally carrying myself differently. New Yorkers do not look up when they walk. Looking up means making contact, means seeing that homeless man on the subway, means seeing that there is a problem—this is a problem that is not going to just go away by pretending that it’s not there.
Object permanence, folks. We need to develop some, because once you’ve looked up, you have two options: apathy or action. Apathy is undoubtedly easier. There is so much going on in the city that it only takes a few more steps before you’ve found something to distract yourself. All you have to do is run through the typical scenarios and keep walking. He would only buy drugs and booze with it if I gave him any money. What if I get mugged? What if I find out that I actually care?
Action requires a decisive move. It calls you to put aside your insecurities and a lifetime of stereotypes. So go ahead. Risk getting rejected, sworn out, and turned away. Risk being the only person in three straight days who even speaks to that woman. Risk finding out that you have more in common with that guy sleeping under a tarp than you do with anyone else. Leave behind your pride and let God break your heart.
To have passion is to suffer. Christ is passionate for us; it was His Passion that led Him to the cross, and until we allow ourselves to feel compassion—quite literally to suffer with Him—we will never fully realize the humanity of our brothers and sisters, let alone our own humanity.
I am sick of walking on the sidewalk and looking at my feet every time I pass someone I don’t know—or sometimes even a person that I do know. I’ll have none of that anymore, thank you very much. No. As children of God, it is our responsibility to validate one another, and all it takes is recognizing another soul when we pass.
/end rant
I love Times Square for the potential that it has to become something far greater (Go find Hutch if you don’t believe me. He hangs out on the corner of 7th and 34th. Talk about perseverance through trials. What an inspiration that man was).
After spending nine full days in New York City, I have been intentionally carrying myself differently. New Yorkers do not look up when they walk. Looking up means making contact, means seeing that homeless man on the subway, means seeing that there is a problem—this is a problem that is not going to just go away by pretending that it’s not there.
But then again, if I can’t see it, it’s not there.
Object permanence, folks. We need to develop some, because once you’ve looked up, you have two options: apathy or action. Apathy is undoubtedly easier. There is so much going on in the city that it only takes a few more steps before you’ve found something to distract yourself. All you have to do is run through the typical scenarios and keep walking. He would only buy drugs and booze with it if I gave him any money. What if I get mugged? What if I find out that I actually care?
Action requires a decisive move. It calls you to put aside your insecurities and a lifetime of stereotypes. So go ahead. Risk getting rejected, sworn out, and turned away. Risk being the only person in three straight days who even speaks to that woman. Risk finding out that you have more in common with that guy sleeping under a tarp than you do with anyone else. Leave behind your pride and let God break your heart.
To have passion is to suffer. Christ is passionate for us; it was His Passion that led Him to the cross, and until we allow ourselves to feel compassion—quite literally to suffer with Him—we will never fully realize the humanity of our brothers and sisters, let alone our own humanity.
I am sick of walking on the sidewalk and looking at my feet every time I pass someone I don’t know—or sometimes even a person that I do know. I’ll have none of that anymore, thank you very much. No. As children of God, it is our responsibility to validate one another, and all it takes is recognizing another soul when we pass.
/end rant
Sunday, March 8, 2009
even then...
I believe in the sun, even when it is not shining
I believe in love, even when feeling it not
I believe in God, even when God is silent
[An unbelievably awesome song, inspired by words scrawled on a cellar wall where Jews had hidden in Nazi Germany]
I believe in love, even when feeling it not
I believe in God, even when God is silent
[An unbelievably awesome song, inspired by words scrawled on a cellar wall where Jews had hidden in Nazi Germany]
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