7 things not worth arguing about

I get it, everyone is different. We have different tastes, opinions, views, beliefs, ideas, mindsets, hobbies, likes and brains. And I get it, it's fun to talk about these. And sometimes important. 

But there are some things on which we should not bother getting heated about. Like, JUST NO. You are childish if this makes your blood cook because arguing about these kind of things is a complete, utter waste of your precious God-given time amen. Of course, it's fun now and then to talk about these things. Like I'm not saying you can't have a laugh and a good ol' fun gibber about who is handsomer, Tom or Matthew, but... don't let it be an important discussion in which you put tons of emotion and in which you try to 'convert' the other to having your opinion. (Cuz it will NOT work, with these subjects.)

So here, my fellow human beings, are ten things not worth arguing about.

1. What food is delicious and what is disgusting

Me: What's something about me that annoys you?

Emma: You don't like fruitcake

(back in the June of 2016)

(lol)

Once I had a 10 minute discussion with my sister about what kind of spaghetti is better, thin spaghetti or fat spaghetti. And one I tried to convince my brother verbally that tortilla wraps with chicken is a gift from heaven to the tastebuds. Did I change their minds in the slightest? Of course not. One can't change a persons tastebuds by proclaiming words of praise about the food said tastebuds despise. You can go 'ahhh bananas is THE BEST' in the comment section, but will I go 'ahhh really? ok, totally convinced'. nope. So stop getting heated up when someone says they love tomatoes. Let them love tomatoes. (I love tomatoes.)

2. What actor/actress is handsomer

Need I say more. Again, tooootal personal preference and it does not matter. All the "what????!!?"s and "nooooo!!!"s will not change a thing. (Also if you discuss this subject a lot maybe you should stop discussing this so much. It's not exactly the most productive thing you could be doing with your time.)

3. What movie version of Pride and Prejudice is the best

Ok I sometimes enjoy a hearty P&P discussion but when it becomes arguing I'm like what the heck guys. We are literally investing energy and heated emotion into the fact that our brains do not adhere to the same level of passion about a made up story acted out by celebrities. Do you ever stop and think how pointless this is. Has someone ever converted from a P&P05 lover to a P&P95 lover through a comment war? Vice versa? No. So lets quit getting all panicky about each others differing opinions on these two movies. Wow, how old are we. :-P (It's fine to state your opinions. I love stating my opinion about the P&P movies. But I don't care a jot if yours are a polar opposite mine. And why should I care?!)

P.S. P&P95 is the best ;-)

4. What singer sings the nicest

Me: I loooove Micheal Buble

Johan: Eh no he's --

Me: What?! How can you not like Michael Buble?!

Johan: His voice is bland and boring

Me: ?8888!!!8?8?RRKFOER?REOoezjio IT'S LIKE SILK AND VELVET AND GOLD

Johan: It's bland and boring

Some people like croaky, raspy voices. Others like it classic. Other fancy a husky whispery voice. Some just want rap and metal. Others like opera. Other fortunate people appreciate a bit of everything. (These are matters on which it is SO OK to AGREE TO DISAGREE)

5. That X looks good on the picture

Me: Ah, that's such a good picture of you

Hannah: WHAT??!!! EUGHHHHH

When someone tells you she (or he) (probably she) thinks she doesn't look good on a certain picture, YOU CANNOT ARGUE HER OUT OF THAT. You may convince her to believe that you think she looks good on the picture but she herself will not be like 'oh ok now you put it like that I look GOOD on that pic.' No use arguing, just delete the picture; or bury it in an old box. Never ever post it on instagram.

6. That it's hot or cold

Sometimes I'm freezing while my sister is in shorts. Sometimes I'm in shorts and my dad reaches to take his coat. Me saying "Come on! it's hot!" will not stop him from taking his coat.

7. That a book is good or not

Personal opinion bla bla bla. And that's ok bla bla bla. You get the point of this post. ;-P (Seriously though, younger me freaked out when a friend gave back a Lynn Austin book I found my heart and soul in with the words, 'nah, it's not my kinda book.' This is older me telling younger me that that was stupid. To care that much about whether or not another human being who God made different shared my racing love and vehement passion for a story that a human made.)

Goodbye. ✌

*leaves quick bc I actually didn't have time to write this*

Tiny Bible study

Now Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus. So, when he heard that Lazarus was ill, he stayed two days longer in the place where he was. (John 11:5-6)

I'll rephrase:

Now Jesus loved Martha, Mary and Lazarus.
So, because He loved them He stayed two days longer in the place where He was.

I'll rephrase again:

Martha and Mary were begging Jesus to come to them because their brother was dying. Now Jesus loved them SO he stayed two days longer in the place where He was and didn't come.
Jesus 'ignored' their plea for two days because He loved them.

When we feel like God is not answering our prayer that is because He loves us. I am sure that for Martha and Mary those two days when Jesus didn't come were the two longest days of their lives. When Lazarus died they were probably overwhelmed with sorrow, questions and doubts. Why hadn't Jesus come? Why didn't He come to heal Lazarus before it was too late?

Because it wasn't too late. And that is what Jesus wanted to show.

“This illness does not lead to death. It is for the glory of God, so that the Son of God may be glorified through it.” - Jesus

So when you feel like you are waiting, waiting, waiting, without any answer from God... know that He knows and that He is waiting with you. Know that He does this just because of His love. It is for the glory of God.

(And here ends my little Bible study for the day.)

Five things you could do to make your day better

1. Have a spontaneous meet-up with a friend. 

When you randomly hear that a friend happens to be nearby, hop on a bike and go have a random meet-up. Just a chat and a laugh and a 15-minute windy walk is worth it. There is something about spur-on-the-moment decisions that makes my love for life skyrocket to a high level. I should do more of it. I love it when an ordinary day ends up having a quick change of plan to make it a bit special. It does not happen often, but when it does it does my heart good.

2. Go through a movie/season and just rewatch all your favourite scenes. 

Don't listen to those people who think that's weird - just do it. It's so much fun, and sometimes one doesn't have time to watch everything but one still has A Desire to relive certain scenes. I went through the entire season of Berkeley Square when I was staying at my grandparents' several weeks ago, and just watched all the Ned and Matty scenes because those two are adorable. The other day I watched the last episode of Downton Abbey again and then the day after I was like, 'I'm still not over that episode; I have to rewatch some scenes.' So I did. Edith and Bertie are so cute and I can't even tell you how proud I am of Thomas and the way he turns out in the end.

3. Learn a chapter of the Bible by heart. 

My goal one day is to know an entire book by heart - like that man who performed at the convention I went to in England back in July, and acted out the entire book of Luke (it was amazing) - but I am not very good at learning stuff word for word, so I'm trying for a chapter. Of course the first one I want to learn by heart is 1 Corinthians 13. Learning Bible verses by heart used to be something I absolutely hated, but now I so see why it's important and helpful. Reading the Bible is one thing, but remembering it and living it is another thing - and the latter is so much easier when you have verses stored up in yo brain.

4. Write down prayers. 

Getting distracted is easy easy EASY; I mean, can I get an amen? Even without a phone; even without music on the background - my brain just crawls away. Also, prayer is so important; and so powerful - and I don't want to ignore it. Being focused during prayer is important also, and avoiding distractions during prayer is therefore essential. What helps for me is writing down my prayers. Writing is one of the ways I express myself, so I'm not saying it's good for everyone, but writing down my prayers has helped me so much and I really recommend it!

5. Listen to all the cliché feel-good songs.

Hey, just forget a second about being stereotypical; if you want to jam on Happy and Can't Stop the Feeling while doing the dishes, just freaking do it. If you've listened to the Beauty and the Beast soundtrack 100 times already but your heart still says it can handle more, just put it on again and sing your heart out. (Confession: I listen to One Direction now and then. K. Don't judge me.)

Give me something I should do to make an ordinary day extraordinary.

Jesus wants you.

Hey reader. Here's a 100£ bill.

You'd take it, right?

You'd take it if I licked it. It's still worth 100£.

You'd take it if I crumpled it up. It's still worth 100£.

You'd take it if I tore it a little here and there. It's still worth 100£.

You'd take it if it was dusty. Still worth 100£.

You'd take it if it was smeared with mud. Still 100£.

You'd take it, right?

Jesus died for you.

God'll take us if we're ugly. He still died for you.

God'll take us if we're messed up. He still died for you.

God'll take us if we have a past filled with sin. He still died for you.

God'll take us if we sinned five minutes ago. He still died for you.

God'll take us if we sin five minutes later. He still died for you.

God'll take us if we lie, cheat, kill. He still died for you.

God'll take us if we work for his enemy, the devil. He still died for you.

God'll take us if we hate Him. He still died for you.

God'll take us if we kill Him. Which is what we did, because of our sins. 

But He still gladly died. For you.

Jesus wants you.

He'll clean you.

He'll fix your tares.

He'll dry your tears.

He'll dust you off.

He'll smooth out your creases.

He'll help you and change your life.

He'll take you.

Jesus wants you. Every day, again and again, He wants the whole of you.

Jesus loves you.

Let me tell you a true story of a miracle.

(inspired by this video but honestly he just stole my thoughts.)

You were once in your mother. Think about that. Just because everyone was once in their mother doesn't mean that it isn't special. IT'S FREAKING MINDBLOWING. You, the adulting-teenager-what-ever-you-are, you, were once inside your mum for nine months, in water.

And now you are almost taller than your mother. Or you are. Or you are almost as tall. (IDK.) Your cells have developed and your bones have grown and your brain has gained information. That's insane. Baby you and you now don't look alike. Baby you and toddler you don't look alike. Toddler you and kid you don't look alike. Kid you and teenager you don't look alike. HOW DO YOU CHANGE SO FAST?

You can think about anything you want to think about. Your brain can decide what you do and your brain can make decisions for you. You rely on that amazing machine in your head to guide your entire life and SOMEHOW IT WORKS. HOW.

You have your own unique fingerprint and eye pattern and face features. Even if you don't like them, they're YOURS and no-one else has them. Even your twin doesn't look like you, even if everyone says you two look alike. You have these unique THINGS and man alive, there's billions of people on this planet and you've got countless things that are LITERALLY ONLY YOU?! Lucky.

Doing stuff - you can do stuff. No, you can change things. The fact that you are breathing oxygen and eating food and sleeping means that your human self can impact things on this globe. How did we get that opportunity... just by being? That is a responsibility and it's an HONOUR. Why are we not excited about this?!

You can love people - you can love things. You can feel loved. You can get excited and feel passionate about things; you can hug and feel overwhelmed with emotions; you are a bundle of confusing feelings and incomprehensible sensations that you can choose how to deal with, with that amazing machine under your skull. ALL THIS IS MIND-BOGGLING.

YOUR EYEBALLS. Can we just appreciate your eyeballs? THEY ARE READING THIS. And your brain is understanding all these squiggly black things; your brain is absorbing and munching on an idea that popped into my brain because of something that popped into somebody else's brain and OUR BRAINS TALK TO EACH OTHER. 

Why are we surprised when things go wrong? Miracles are not normal. You are not normal. You are a miracle.

You are beautiful in a non-cliché way.

Confession time: I roll my eyes at stuff like, "YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL." And "BE YOU." And even the plausible "YOU ARE UNIQUE."

When I was fourteen, I used to hang these kinds of words up on my wall. I was all about the positive-Pinterest-y-Naomi's-da-bomb-because-she-says-she-is-phase. I was like 'boo yeah I'm Me' and honestly, I was getting excited about nothing. I was doing it in selfish la-di-da-feelsies and I needed those words to make me feel good. I needed constant convincing.

Then I realised that wow, God, I need to humble myself; I am a sinner; and I should not be who I am by human nature because without you, I am nothing. I still agree with all of this, of course, but I had a phase where I swung a little too far in the opposite direction. I was like, nah, we shouldn't be ourselves because what if you're selfish by nature? We should strive to be who God wants us to be.

THAT IS ALSO TRUE. We all naturally have sin and the 'BE YOU' phrase should not mean 'be who you aaaaarrree and get druuunk and steaaal and sleep arouuund because that's who you aaarrreee.' In a sense, we should, therefore, not be who we are as humans in a world of sin. We should strive to be as non-human-like as possible.

But I took this idea too far for a while, I think. We are creations of God and to disregard the 'you are perfeeect' message is saying that God does not create people perfectly. I mean, God made us unique, right? So now I'm sort of re-learning the non-cliché-ness of the cliché message: "You are beautiful just the way you are. You are unique. Be yourself."

Yes, I still roll my eyes at that. Because let's be real, it is overdone and it's pretty stupid when you forget about the Maker. It is stupid when you leave out the Very Reason Why we are beautiful and unique and the Reason why we can achieve amazing things and why we should be confident in our own quirks and our personal dreams and talents. If you're just like, drumming it in yourself: I am epic. I am cool. I am hashtag queen.... then I'm like, "OKAY. WHY."

And the reason why is God. And theeen it all makes sense. Then self-love becomes a beautiful, important thing rather than this selfish cliché thing for 'positive vibes's sake. Yes, socially, some are prettier than others. I'm not going to deny that. Some are more talented. Some are in better condition. 

But isn't everyone worth the same sacrifice of Jesus?

If you're think you're not unique and special and beautiful, then you're saying God's not a good artist. AND HE MADE THIS:

(random picture from pinterest duh)

I want to quickly change the subject and talk about mountains. I love love love mountains. There are literally no ugly mountains in the world. Each one is different and each one is wretchedly perfectly gorgeous. Why... WHY are they so beautiful? "Just because they... are." No, no, not satisfied with that answer. WHY ARE THEY SO RIDICULOUSLY GORGEOUS. Why did my heart fill with this swell when I stood on one last year at the Alps in France; looking down on clouds and sunshine and rocks and white tops and trees. WHY. Why is rock and tree so beautiful? WHY. Why. 

I'll tell ya why. God. It's a snippet of God's glory.

And us then? Aren't we snippets of God's glory? Aren't we? Aren't we the one creation made in God's image? 

WHAT IS WRONG WITH US. Why do we not think we are beautiful?! Unique? Each and every one of us individually and specially designed with a different purpose?!

Today I wrote a kids book. It's only 16 pages and 500-something words; with tons of blank spaces for pictures I haven't drawn yet (and will probably not be that pretty.) It's written in rhyme (bringing out my inner Dr Suess here ya know) and it's about this 'perfect' mountain who tells all the other mountains that they're not good-looking with their weird shapes and rocks sticking out in odd places, and then a girl comes along and she can't believe that these mountains believe that they're not beautiful. 

Have you ever seen an ugly mountain? Well, God has never seen an ugly person. 

That's the little moral of the story. Anyway. I made it on a whim because it is an important message, and I'm kinda proud with the way it turned out, so I'll show you the last two verses.

No matter how spotty, different, dirty and sooty 

Listen to God because He should know about beauty 

He made those mountains, and He also made zillions of stars, 

He made little lambs, colourful flowers and huge planets like Mars 

 

And the One that made all these gorgeous things, 

The lions, the colours, the rainbows, the birds’ tiny wings – 

He also decided to make you; I know, it’s kinda bizarre, 

But that means that you are beautiful just the way you are.

Yes, you are beautiful. Yes, you should accept yourself and embrace your quirks.  Yes, you are more beautiful in God's eyes than mountains are to your eyes. Yes, you are a sinner and probably not that beautiful on the inside. But you're covered by a huge love; your worth is tons and you are crazy beautiful as a result.

But please remember who to give the credit to. 

The Reliable Hope

Yes, there are tears. Tears of heart-break and stress. Tears that completely wear out every bone in a body; sobs that heave a being up and down in complete sadness.

But there are also tears of joy. Like when the war heroes returned from home alive; like when the girl took off her make-up and realised she was beautiful just like that; like when an audience heaps onto each other with tears of laughter because that comedian has a whole lot of funny bones.

Yes, there are blind people; people with legs chopped off, people with just three fingers, people who can't hear simple things like eggs sizzling in oil on the stove, and there are people with shocking disabilities that get shocked stares.

But there are beautiful eyelashes, smiles filled with gratitude and beauty, strong handshakes with friendly grips; people with vocal chords big enough to blow off arena roofs; people with those amazing bear-hugs.There are millions of people breathing God-made oxygen; able to do amazing things with the air and energy they take for granted.

Yes, people are dying - people who haven't said sorry and don't know Jesus. People that are very much loved and that will be missed so, so much.

But there is sunshine - golden and glorious, keeping this earth-ball spinning and preventing you from freezing to death. There is love; love and passion and people trying it out; failing; trying again. There is beautiful music - a soothing violin practising for a concert in the basement, gospel choirs screaming with joy. There are babies being born; new life with new possibilities. There are talented genes and quirky winks. There is laughter - that booming, hearty, excellent noise that means happiness.

Yes, people die in wars. People get hurt in more ways than physical, with blood and scars.  Yes, people are lonely. People are tortured; beaten; abused.

But there's God. Always.

There's Jesus, who died for you. Jesus, who is the God who made the mountains and the oceans and the starry constellations, who came to save you in the humble form of a man, unrecognisable with blood and pain on the cross. Jesus, who will one day take you into a world where the hope we need with our tears and pain will be 100% fulfilled. Jesus, who turned all the sadness upside down.  

There's hope, and it's real.

nostalgia

nostalgia // noun // a sentimental longing or wistful affection for a period in the past.

I love nostalgia. It's weird and beautiful and melancholy and perceptive and heart-warming. It's wistful and sentimental. It's happy and sad. I love that you can't have nostalgia for bad memories - and I love that nostalgia isn't really about memories, it's more about past aspects - like a particular smell, or a smile, or a book, or a room. I love that nostalgia can dawn suddenly, unexpectedly, and make you think, pause; remember, reminisce about the good days past. I love that it reminds us that life has been good and that life is good - because one day we'll be filled with nostalgia for now.

I love nostalgia. It's a nice word too; it sounds nice and it has a twist to it - it's a clever word. It's a word that every individual interprets differently - a word so personal and intimate that no-one can describe quite what nostalgia feels for themselves.

Cows in pastures makes me nostalgic; mainly because we used to live across the road to fields with cows (also chickens; although not in the same field) and I walked there plenty of times. Also, every year we'd go to this farm in Switzerland and yep, you guessed it, cows with bells around their necks - chewing their hearts out on the dewy morning grass - were always part of our stay there.

Newborn babies make me nostalgic. Their crazy small fingers; toenails; ears... their innocence, their pure perfection; their delicate, gorgeous, gorgeous beauty. I love their eyes - looking at things without knowing things, looking at faces and trusting people without knowing a thing. I love their little noses and their kissable feet and wrinkly fingers and ugh goshdarnit they're so terribly adorable. Even if they're ugly and wrinkled, they have tear-drop-worthy gorgeousness about their beings. You get it if you stare at one long enough.

A friend from Church recently had a little boy and I got to hold him (yeahhh for like, five minutes) and his black eyes peering at me from his teensy face just UGH IT'S LIKE MAGIC I TELL YOU.

I guess newborns make me nostalgic because I've so many memories of newborn siblings - going to the hospital and fighting for a turn to hold said new sibling. So many memories of sorting out baby clothes and smelling baby shampoo (best . smell . ever . Can I have an amen?) and feeling those small fingers cling around one of mine. Holding a new sibling always sort of felt like holding part of me... part of my blood; in my young arms - a freakin' human being with a life ahead. Blank pages to fill.

Ladybird books make me nostalgic. (For anyone who doesn't know, Ladybird books aren't books about insects... they're about all sorts of things. They were made in Britain, I believe, to learn kids how to read.) Whenever I was ill, I would take all of them (and we have a lot of ladybird books) and I would read them all in my bed. I loved reading about Peter and Jane and the dolls and the horses and the cookies and the beach and Punch and Judy and just yes I loved it. I personally think the stories are stupid now, but yeah speak about nostalgia.

The Cinderella Ladybird book pictured above makes me so so nostalgic because I have such a vivid memory of discovering it between some boring French grammar books at Grandma and Granddad's house and yes lil' seven-year-old me was like ahhhh this book is the best book ever. I put it back there and every time we revisited, I would go back and reread it. I still kinda want Cinderella's dresses. Obviously mainly the pink one on the cover.

Banana shaped moons make me nostalgic. Now I love full moons; glorious and cunning and smart in the dark sky - but spiky banana moons remind me of when I was little and I would freak out and point at it because IT'S SO EXCITING. LOOK MAMA THERE'S THE MOOOON.

Astrid Lingdren's stories make me nostalgic. I used to be such an Astrid Lingdren fan. I had no idea she was a Swedish author; for me she was the author of 'Madieke en Liesbet' and I thought she lived in Belgium and I felt like she wrote them right to me. 

I luuurved reading about Madieke (I think; Margaret in English? Not sure. I read 'em in Dutch and it doesn't feel right in any other language, haha) and her adventures in her red house with her sister Liesbet. I wanted to throw meatballs from the roof and have an Easter chocolate man and all that. I wanted to be like Lisa in 'The Children of Noisy Village' (the English title sounds so wrong; but I shall use it for my dear readers. Appreciate all I do.) and have an attic room and collect pictures and own a lamb. And have the perfectest life. :-)

Basically, I wanted to live in an Astrid Lingdren book. And the gorgeous, full-colour picture books that I found in the library (see picture above) didn't really help. (Seriously when I found that picture on Pinterest a whole GUST (no, WIND) of nostalgia swept over me.) (#personalfeels)

Seagulls make me nostalgic because I remember being so excited to see them on what-felt-like-the-longest-journey-ever to England. Seeing seagulls meant we were in Calais which meant we were going to board on the ferry, which meant we were going to see the White Cliffs of Dover (ugh yes the White Cliffs of Dover give me such nostalgia... please; don't get me started!), which meant we were going to be in England. I love seagulls. Also the sound of them... nothing screams more beach and coast. It's a beautiful sound.

Library cards make me so nostalgic. The stamps marking the history of the travels of a book, the library ladies stamping new stamps on the card (I always wanted to do it because it sounded like so much fun to do)... I miss the library card days, guys. 

So. Many. Library memories. I'm so glad that libraries hadn't yet 'fully developed' into computer-generated libraries in my childhood. I'm so glad I associate stamps and library cards with books. I'm so glad that when I visit a library now I still expect the crunch of the stamp to interrupt the bookish silence in the air. I'm sad that it doesn't. I don't care about the efficiency of computer-technology-look-it-up libraries; I WISH LIBRARY CARDS WERE STILL A THING.

I miss the tiny library that lived near the local church before it disappeared and joined the big, modern one. Just thinking about that adorable library makes me nostalgic because it was literally the cutest place in the world and I always wanted to go there when Mama went. I would come home with BAGS of books (frequently the same ones over and over) and it was the bomb. (*whisper* I know you have no idea what I'm talking about but please, allow me to have my trip down memory lane.)

Pettson and Findus books make me nostalgic. I got these from frequent library visits (and haven't read one in aaages) and my word, so much nostalgia. They're basically books about this old man and his cat (the cat is the coolest kid ever) and the pictures are just gold - filled with adorable detail; little weird creatures peeping from rugs and corners, little bits and bobs... I poured myself into these books. I want to reread them all so badly right now. (If I have kids, these are on my to-buy-for-their-birthdays list; for sure.)

Tapes make me nostalgic. REMEMBER THESE??? When you could put them in CARS? (Sheesh, I'm only eighteen. I should not be feeling this old.) My favourite childhood tape was one my dad made of my older brother singing Nursery Rhymes and Christmas songs. Oh, and there was one tape of annoying Nursery Rhyme songs that my sister Hannah and my brother Daniel ALWAYS listened to - I was so sick of it I hid it in the garden with my older brother. (Still good memories.)

The Martine/Tiny books give me nostalgia. I'm sorry to - once again - talk about books none of you probably know about, but the Tiny (not a word meaning small; it's a name. Don't laugh. Her name is Tiny. It's from the name Martine.) books basically are my childhood. They're MINE. None of my sisters like them much and I can't see why because I when I look back at my childhood I see Tiny books Tiny books Tiny books. 

We still have almost all of them - all 50-something. Tiny was this girl with the perfect life and the pictures are perfect and it's so unrealistic and I LOVED THEM SO MUCH... *goes downstairs to reread them all*

Film rolls make me nostalgic. The old camera has now long been buried and been replaced by a sporty grey lil' pocket-sized thing, and I miss the film roll days, readers. I always wanted to have it after the pictures had been developed... I always had a fascination for it, I guess. I mean, how on earth was my face on this brown see-through object?

There you go... some stuff that makes me wistful and sentimental and nostalgic. 

For some reason, so does a frying pan filled with eggs, but I have no idea why. So do the Little House on the Prairie books of course - I didn't dare even mention those because you'd all be like: "UGHH I KNOW SHHH DON'T SAY IT AGAIN." :-P 

Now, if you read all of this, consider yourself my friend. (I realise it might have been boring for some people. That's okay. Nostalgia is different for different people; I told you in the early realms of this post, if you've been paying any attention.) Does any of the things I listed make you nostalgic? If so, consider yourself my friend as well. Tell me about all the personal feels in the comment section; I'm all ears.

Here's something crazy.

I once heard that if the galaxy were the size of the USA, you and me and this whole huge world we live in would fit in a small coffee cup. That baffled me. I heard that there was this star that it was so big that if the world were the size of a soccer ball, that star would be the size of the Mount Everest, that mountain so tall that people die climbing it. And that's just one star out of uncountably many. That mindboggled me. 

I feel like I'm not precise enough. Let me guide you to this post on this subject. You don't have to read all of it; just scroll down the post and look at the pictures. Then just think about the tiny specks we are. (Seriously, go and do it. It won't take long. Then come back.)

Wow. I am tiny.

And what mindboggles me more is that GOD CAME TO THIS TINY EARTH. In this huge beautiful dazzling galaxy which we can only sort of partly see through expensive microscopes and which we can only sort of admire on a clear starry evening, He came to the earth. That tiny soccer ball. That tiny ball that fits in a metaphorical coffee cup. That tiny ball that, if it were a mere inch closer to the sun, it would mean we would all die of the heat, and if it were a mere inch further away from the sun, it would mean we would all die of the freezingness. That tiny ball He put in the exact right place. That tiny ball He put me in.

Man, I am tiny.

Seesh, God is huge. Mindbogglingly insanely huge. And He came to this tiny world and walked on it in a tiny, human stature. As God. As Man. For us, tiny wretched beings, that huge and awesome God, did that. I mean... what even. Thank you Jesus.

Christmassy Thoughts

Two days ago it was Sunday and there was a beautiful Carol Service at our Church in the evening. The big, beautiful building was dark, and endless golden flames bobbed on the rows of little candles at the bottom of the stained glass windows. The organ, the orchestra and the choir filled the front of the Church while the rest of the building was so packed that people had to sit in the aisle and stand at the sides, the back, the hallway and on the stairs. People squashed together on the pews and had to share service sheets. There is nothing I love better than a full Church with Christmas Carols. 

My solo, O Holy Night, went well despite slight nerves and Hark the Herald blew the roof off with it's splendour. By the end, my throat hurt from singing; as well as my ears from all the cymbals. It was lovely, to say in the least. It must have converted many non-Christians. Man, it was beautiful.

Yesterday I heard the news that a girl I used to know several years ago died in a car crash in America. We used to go to Sunday school together. I remember her well; she was the bubbliest, cheerfullest girl of the group; she wore bright bracelets and cool trousers. Probably around the time I was innocently singing O Holy Night, she was laughing her last laugh, saying her last words before being tossed into a coma state by a car slipping into a van, bought to hospital where she died hours; minutes later. I didn't know this girl, Anna, well at all. I remember her; how the kids adored her and how good she was at sports. I remember her infectious smile. I remember her last time at Sunday school, before she left to America, and how we prayed for her. Despite those few memories, I don't know Anna at all, but my heart and prayers are with her friends (she probably had loads) and family. She was only eighteen.

Then I heard about the lorry attack in Berlin, at a Christmas market. People drinking Glüwine one second; dead the next. Twelve dead; fifty wounded. Not again.

Part of me sarcastically mumbles Merry Christmas. 

A Happy Christmas is obviously not attainable for all, to say in the least. I am everlastingly thankful that I will have a happy one, but I am keenly aware that I am one of the lucky ones. Part of me; no, in fact, everything in me is reminded of the fact that Jesus is the hope. Those Berlin attack victims, Anna - they are dead; gone. Their loved ones mourn and they will be reminded of their deaths, and re-mourn, every single Christmas. But oddly and ironically, this gives us all the more reason to celebrate Christmas. They and we are reminded that Christmas is not persé ladida and Christmas crackers and family love. God willing, it is, but the world is corrupt and it has been bruised and it will continue to be bruised till He comes.

But Jesus came and He will come again. He came to the world, died for our sins. We are set free. We have a hope and Christmas makes the hope ever keener and even stronger. We need, God knows, we need keen and strong hope in a world like ours. The world doesn't stop spinning around the 25th of December - in fact, 25th of December should ring the hope even louder. :-D

I know I shouldn't feel guilty, being excited for Christmas. I am excited! Grandma and Granddad are coming over from England, my Mum's side of the family will all be barging into our house on Christmas Eve, we'll sing carols and eat turkey and listen to the Royal Christmas speeches. We'll crack Christmas crackers and open gifts and play games and go to Church. A few days ago I got Emma's package in the mail and I got really excited - it's so square. I love square packages; they're so much more exciting than flat ones. It's going to be a wonderful day and I'm definitely looking forward to it. 

However, you know, I realise I'm lucky. I echo my earlier sentiments. :-)

What are you guys doing for Christmas? (I will refrain from saying Merry Christmas to you because it's still a week and I must waaaait. :-P) I shall finish this post with a cute little Christmassy emoji. Because one must do new things now and then, right-ho, deal ol' fellow human? Here ya go: 🎄)

He is still here to take our breath away.

Jesus was popular. On re-reading the gospel of Mark, I now suddenly realise just how popular He was. It was crazy. It was amazing; this shows how huge of an impact He made. People from all over the place were filled with awe, amazement, wonder and curiosity for this man. This Man. Never forget the capital letters when you're talking about God, haha. This Man, who, for the record, kept his Identity secret most of the time. Jesus did miracles and told stories and preached the Gospel, and all these swarms and crowds to came to see Him.

"News about Jesus spread quickly over the whole region of Galilee." (And this was before emails, postal services, newspapers and telegrams. In case you had forgot.)

"When they heard about all he was doing, many people came to him from Judea, Jerusalem, Idumea, and the regions across the Jordan and around Tyre and Sidon." (W O W. This is more than just random village people. Much more.)

In case you didn't get this yet, it got so crazy that Jesus couldn't even walk around in town openly and sometimes he didn't even have time to eat. He had to make an effort to be alone to pray, and I bet He had to make an effort too, to have some 'alone time' with Him and the twelve apostles. (The thought of this must make some of us introverts nervous!)

"Many ran on foot from all town and got there ahead of them."

"Jesus could no longer enter a town openly."

"And again a crowd gathered, so that he and his disciples were not even able to eat."

(Sometimes the crowd forgot about food too. But then that boy with the five loaves and two fish came to the rescue and Jesus did something amazing.) Anyway, point made: Jesus sure had more than twelve disciples. He had millions of them. The reactions mentioned in Mark all all just filled with AWE. Again and again, phrases like these are mentioned:

"People were overwhelmed with amazement."

"People were overwhelmed with wonder for Jesus." 

"The whole crowd was amazed at His teaching."

"The large crowd listened to Him with delight."

Imagine if in that time, the Internet was a thing. And if Jesus had a Youtube channel or something. Imagine the comments. We could take them right out of the Bible - the comments that people gave Him.

"We have never seen anything like this!"

"Who is this? Even the wind and the waves obey Him!"

"He has done everything well."

And of course:

"He is out of His mind."

... made by his own family. And we also have more nasty comments; enough to have Jesus killed later on. Enough for crucifixion. 

But about the huge amounts of awe. THE SAME AWE SHOULD STILL BE HERE. This is more than awe for a supermoon or awe for a movie or awe for an emotional fictional novel. Or awe for a family member or a spouse. Jesus is still here. God is the same yesterday, today and forever. We should still be filled with awe and amazement and wonder and curiosity, like those crowds in the time when Jesus walked on earth. We should yearn to learn more. God is here. He isn't gone. He hasn't withered under any dust. He is still here to take our breath away.

"Creativity is Intelligence having fun." - Albert Einstein

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art

ɑːt/ noun

1. 1.

   the expression or application of human creative skill and imagination, typically in a visual form such as painting or sculpture, producing works to be appreciated primarily for their beauty or emotional power.

   "the art of the Renaissance"

   • 
     

     
     
2. 2.

   the various branches of creative activity, such as painting, music, literature, and dance.

   "the visual arts"
3. 
   

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Art, I believe, is something different for each person. (No, this is not a deep, metaphorical thingy in which I try to be poetic and steal the hearts of my readers. It is a rather shallow fact, actually, which everyone knows without my telling them. Everyone knows different people have different creative outlets. I know you're not stupid.)

Art is: expressing yourself through things. Poets use rhythms, rhymes, rhetorical devices, metaphors, similes and dancing words. Sometimes they use big spaces between lines and words to represent silence and mystical-ness. They go crazy creative in their poet and fantasy world and it annoys the no-nonsense people, like Marilla Cuthbert. Writers use long fancy words, or give value to the short dull and underappreciated ones. Their paint is the letters of this earth, as they spin tales and coil and sizzle the imagination of their readers. They use analepsis', oxymorons, and thesauruses.

Ballerinas use their arms and feet to make slender elegance, to demonstrate grace and beautiful movements. The tutus and the pointe shoes hop and bounce like in slow-motion as the black silhouettes dance in the shades of the theatre, while somewhere else, someone is creating the aching music to which she dances. Violin strings and piano keys; beautiful songs and voices like waves of the ocean and fields of marigolds. (I know, I AM BEING POETIC. I WILL STOP. It's just that my fingers are being creative. When I start I can't seem to stop!)

Then we have people who make magic with their pencil and paper; people who make abstract ideas come to life with colours and odd shapes. We have the seamstress sewing beads and sequins onto pieces of flowy fabric and we have the photographer, making one moment memorable for ever and ever through bokeh, focus and nostalgic angles.

It's funny how one picture can set ones mind on fire with a sudden idea; a sudden wave of creativity. Or how one paragraph in a book can give you the wildest Eureka! moment you've ever had. Or how one song, one piece of fabric, one walk in the woods, and one person's random piece of work can give you explosions of ideas.

I know, for me, that seeing and reading other people's works of art makes my brain pop with millions of ideas. Like sparkles zizzling on a New Years Eve fire-work-sparkle-stick, or a glass overflowing with wine. My fingers start to ache with a yearning to make beautiful things. I love to find myself lost in the world of creativity, just going wild - seeing where my pen or my story will take me. The end result might be a disappointment - the lines go wobbly and the sentences need tweaking but I don't exactly know where. But still; it always makes me insanely happy. Productivity and creativity is my jam; and I should do more of it.

Aside from Pinterest, here are some people/blogs that inspire me to be creative, every day and any day. (Basically, they make me procrastinate, boo them.)

DRAWING:
Beth Joyce : I LOVE her drawings sooo much. She's so creative and her family/mother pictures are just adorable. I check out her Instagram way too much.
Paper Raindrops : Inna K doesn't blog on there any more (*droopy sad face*) but boyyy her blog makes my fingers sooo excited. Her creativity astounds me and I spend wayyy to much time on her blog, reading her old posts and staring at her journals. (I've stolen many journal ideas from this girl. All credit to her.)

WRITING:
Sugar Mountain : What do you know, dear people! My darling friend Emma has a new blog to make me wish I had all the time in the world to write, and attempting to do so as well as she can. I'm so happy she's blogging again. I love the way she writes, so much, and she continually inspires me to do more of it and to enlarge my vocabulary.
Second Star : Guyyyys I don't know what it is with this blog, but MY GOSH I GET SO INSPIRED when I read it!!! Her writing has a scent and her blog just has that ahhh-I-want-to-write-loads-thing.
Rachel Coker : I recently followed this girl and well... I spent a long time reading her old posts yesterday. Her writing is just bursting with colour and glory and creativity; I love it.
Payton Marie : I know this is a photography blog (and she does make me want to click that shutter, I can assure you!), but I also love her writing style so much. It's real and nostalgic and just plain good storytelling.

PHOTOGRAPHY
Jess Mc Ghie : I'm not that into photography (I don't even own a camera... so slight dilemma, right?) but whenever I go over to Jess' blog space I WISH I WAS AS GOOD AS HER. One day I will pursue my secret longing to photograph beautifully, justcha you wait.
Allix Ruby : Basically her post 'in which I share my favourite wedding images of 2015' (her last post) is sure to make the inner photographer in all of us go nuts with inspiration.

Okay. Now go. And use thine hands well. Try to spill out your ideas on paper. If it ends up looking or sounding terrible; don't worry. Nowadays even red boxes and rubbish heaps are considered art (there must be an abstract, philosophical metaphor behind this thing... :-P), so you're good to go.

(Unless, you have things to do in your busy life... which of course is always the case. GO AWAY, LACK OF TIME.)