Tag Archives: Humor

Something Worth Doing

This morning after I did my morning prayer, I played a stupid game on my phone for a little while. I went to bed very late last night, and really, I just didn’t want to get up. I could afford to just chill for a little, but then a thought came to my mind. I couldn’t help questioning why I was playing that game. It’s not actually all that fun, and I’m so good at it by now that it’s basically mindless. I couldn’t help asking myself if it was God’s will for me to be playing that game. My ultimate conclusion was that, while it was perfectly acceptable for me to be playing a dumb game, it probably wasn’t exactly what He wanted me to be doing.

Anyone who really wants to follow Christ ultimately has to ask what God wants them to be doing. When asking this question, though, most of us, myself included, are usually wondering what God’s ultimate plan for our lives is. We’re looking at the forest, without always seeing the trees. I reflected on this, and I asked myself, “What would God want me to be doing right now? I don’t have to be ready for work for another hour or so, and it’s not like I have to go far (I would be traveling from eating lunch in the kitchen back to my bedroom which would then be my office).” I came to the conclusion that, even if I didn’t have a concrete answer, I did know that God would want me to be doing something worth doing.

That begs the question: what makes something worth doing? What gives value to an action, practice, or effort? Ultimately, what gives anything value? I recently visited a group of third order Carmelites, and am considering officially joining their order. I’ve only visited them once, and I have a lot to learn, but my visit was amazing, and the people were probably the nicest I’ve ever met. I mention this because at the end of my visit, one of the women gave me a glass tube. Contained inside was water from the Jordan River and the Sea of Galilee, a tiny shell from the Sea of Galilee, and some dust from Mount Carmel; a mountain in Israel where the first Carmelites created their order. Measuring the worth of that tube in terms of money makes it worthless, but I thought it was an amazing gift.

Last night I was reading about the history of the Rosary, and I read that when it started becoming incredibly popular and well known, people would make incredibly fancy ones with precious stones on gold or silver chains. Mine is made of wooden beads on a plain cord. I bought that one partly because I’m the cheapest woman alive, but partly because a fancy Rosary would not be my style. It’s value is contained in what I use it for. I think about the things I consider to be my treasures. I have some religious items that I consider treasure, and some of them actually are nice, but I also consider my ability to use the English language a kind of treasure. Technology is also a kind of treasure because the ability to communicate, learn, and quite frankly, to be entertained, is valuable.

I also discovered something late last night. The value or worth of anything must be determined by something greater than itself. I often find myself marveling at the fact that the God of the universe wants anything to do with me. I am one in literally several billion people, but my Heavenly Father literally loves the hell out of me. Making sense of that love is confusing at best, and last night I found myself thinking, “Lord, you knew I’d never be able to walk. You knew I’d have epilepsy. You knew I’d be just as messy as anyone else. You knew I’d give up on you, and give up on myself for a while. You made me anyway, and you still chased me down. I just don’t get it. I’m not even important.” At that moment something stopped me. I think He stopped me because my next thought was, “Actually, you think I’m pretty important. If you say I’m important, then I’m important.” That thought made me happy.

I don’t know what God’s ultimate plan is for my life, but I do know some things. I call my godparents “Aunt” and “Uncle,” but we’re not actually related. A few months ago, I learned that their daughter, so my kind-of cousin, is going to have a baby this winter. Even before I knew this, though, I realized that I had a growing desire to be a godmother. I thought it was kind of weird desire, but I prayed about it a handful of times. This past weekend, it was decided that I would be my “cousin’s” child’s godmother. I have an amazing relationship with both of my godparents, and I hope to have the same kind of relationship with my godchild.

I often listen to Christian playlists on Spotify while I’m working. There’s a song that sometimes comes on that I kind of hate because it’s about how Christians spend too much time singing empty words and twiddling our thumbs while the outside world suffers. This song kills me because I am a sympathetic person, and I hate to see people suffer, but because of my physical impediments, I can’t go out and actively do much about it. I didn’t mention the song specifically, but I mentioned my trepidation about it to my godfather. He told me that my prayers are more effective and heard more readily because I can’t go out and precisely because I want to help. Despite the fact that I’ve witnessed the truth of it, I’ve had to have it hammered into me time and again that prayer is powerful.

I’ve learned that prayer takes faith, and prayer takes patience. It is absolutely true that God often works in ways we don’t expect, and He often takes His time. Sometimes I realize that God has answered me months or even years after I prayed for or about something. Conversely, sometimes He’ll answer my prayers within thirty seconds of me praying. It takes perseverance, and it takes practice. I’ve been praying the Rosary every night for, I think, nearly a year now, and I still get distracted. Sometimes I get a lot out of it, and sometimes I don’t. The point isn’t what I can get out of it, though. The point is what it can do.

I want to focus mainly on the Rosary because numerous significant miracles have been attributed to it. In 1214 the Rosary was presented to St. Dominic by the Blessed Mother to defeat the Albigensian heresy, which taught that the spirit was good, but the body was evil. Thus, they taught that suicide was a commendable practice. The Rosary, while essentially viewed through the eyes of Mary, so to speak, focuses deeply on the life and humanity of Christ, especially since the Luminous Mysteries–those that focuss on his miracles weren’t included until later.

The devotion of people faithfully praying the Rosary is attributed to nonviolent resistance to, and ultimate defeat of Communism in Brazil in the 1960’s. It was attributed to the healing of Father Patrick Peyton, an Irish immigrant to the U.S. who was diagnosed with Tuberculosis, which in the 1930’s, when he was alive, was incurable. In 1945, when the atom bomb was dropped on Hiroshima, eight Jesuit priests were together praying the Rosary less than a mile from ground zero. They miraculously survived, and suffered no radiation poisoning. Though not a miracle, I can certainly say that praying the Rosary has helped me to grow closer to Jesus and develop a relationship with Mary that I previously didn’t have.

The prayers of individuals can work miracles. That is absolutely true. I strongly believe, and I think I’m supported by history, though, that a bunch of people praying for the same thing can more readily move mountains. Even from a human perspective, it’s the difference between one kid pestering Mom or Dad for something, or two, or three, or maybe even six kids, if they have friends with them, all asking for the same thing. If you’re like me, you don’t always have people around to pray with you. That’s why getting to know the Blessed Mother, and maybe a handful of Saints is important. They may not be physically here, but they can and do pray with you and for you.

All of this is meant as encouragement to my readers, but also as a reminder to myself. If you don’t have the time, the money, or the physical ability to “go out” and volunteer or donate to charity, and that is a sincere desire of your heart, then pray. Do what you can, and don’t worry about what you can’t. Every day I can read, I can write, I can edit, and I can pray. When school starts back up for the kids, I’ll be teaching CCD. If you focus only on what you can’t do, you will ultimately do nothing, and that helps no one. Pray for the people doing the things you want to do because in this way, you are helping them, and vicariously helping the people they are helping.

I have focused mainly on praying for others, but I would like to emphasize that it’s just as important to pray for yourself. I would argue that it’s just as important to pray about nothing. We are meant to be holy and have a relationship with God. To have a relationship with anyone, you have to talk to them. I recently went to see Beck live, and I had a ton of fun. I had a ton of fun with Jesus because I prayed through the whole thing. I just said stuff like, “I’m having an awesome time. Thank you for this.” Pray when something is bothering you. Pray when you need something. Pray when you’re late to church and need a parking spot. He’s usually quick to help with that one. Pray when you find something weird or funny, and share the weirdness or the humor with Him.

Lastly, I just want to say that It’s perfectly okay to waste some time. I did a little while ago because, quite frankly, my brain was a bit fried. It’s important to make note of the things we do and the reasons why we do them. In the end, I felt that writing this was what God would have me do today, and I certainly feel that it was something worth doing.

Thank God

It’s easy to forget to thank God for the little things. That being said,

Thank God for coffee.
Thank God for snow in April because it’s stupid and funny.
Thank God for another day.
Thank God for flowers and bird feathers.
Thank God for music.
Thank God for language.
Thank God for time to procrastinate.
Thank God for space heaters.
Thank God for miracles.
Thank God for his love, even, and especially when it doesn’t make sense.
Thank God for being not just the God of the universe, but for being your Friend; your King; your God.

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!

The Things I’m Thankful For

I know Thanksgiving was a couple days ago, but I haven’t had time to get to a computer until now.

My aunt did this “month of gratitude” thing where she had to post something she’s grateful for every day through the month of November. I thought I’d do my own list and share it with you guys.

1) My family… the huge, insane, lovable mess that it is
2) My friends… for introducing me to lots of good movies and music and for always being there
3) Music… for getting me through every allnighter and making me happy
4) Movies… because they are wonderful. Nuff said
5) My faith in God… I don’t know where I’d be without him
6) Coffee
7) Chocolate
8) My bed
9) The wood stove in my basement
10) Cute animals
11) My education
12) My mom’s accessible car (even though it’s falling apart)
13) My wheelchair
14) Electricity
15) Humor
16) My insane dreams
17) The ability to use language
18) The ability to make music
19) The ability to help others
20) Forgiveness
21) Love
22) Art (literature & visual art)
23) My medication
24) Technology (even though it insists on fighting me most of the time)
25) Video games
26) My eyesight (as crappy as it is)
27) My hearing (because it’s awesome and therefore I’m super good at eavesdropping)
28) Traditions
29) The sacrifices people make for me and for each other
30) The absurdly satisfying clicking sound my keyboard makes when I type

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!

Broken And Laughing About It

I’ve been reading a lot of posts about people figuring life/themselves out. Some of them I find a bit cliche, and some of them make me a bit jealous. I think I know myself pretty well, but I wish I knew more.

Unlike a lot of people my age, I know EXACTLY what I want to do when I grow up, and like a lot of people’s my future is precarious. Music isn’t exactly the easiest industry to go into, and my disability complicates things. I have epilepsy, which is controlled by meds on top of MD. I’m also very near sighted. Besides that, common sense often eludes me and I don’t know too much about how the world actually works.

Sometimes I just have to take a step away from myself and laugh. I’m so broken. I’m also special. When I was diagnosed with Muscular Dystrophy as a baby, the doctors told my parents that it was because they both had the same defective gene and they had better odds of getting struck by lightning than meeting each other.

After they did some tests it was determined that I had 3-5 years to live. My mom prayed incessantly for weeks until someone from the hospital called and said they messed up the test results and they had actually reported someone else’s results. They said that I would be pretty normal other than not being able to walk. They’ve been trying for years to figure out exactly what I have, but I’ve stumped the best doctors and the most advanced genetic testing. I actually find it funny. I think I’m God’s little anomaly.

I guess I shouldn’t worry too much about the future because my Father has taken darn good care of me so far. I’ve never felt bad about being a busted piece of work. When I was in elementary school the other kids thought I was awesome because I got to ride a trike around in the building. I can give people rides on the back of my wheelchair, which is a good deal faster than walking, and I get awesome seats at concerts. Most importantly, I can skip lines at Canobie Lake Park.

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!

Unqualified, Unspecified Love

I’m unqualified for a lot of things. I’m not majoring in psychology and I’m not going to be a counselor, but everyone says I’m good at giving advice. I don’t want to diagnose people and tell them what they already know about themselves and hold them at arms length and tell them that our time is up for the day.

I want to be a good friend. I want to be there and sit around with someone all night if I have to. I want to tell people more than what they need to hear. I want to love people no matter what until it’s so annoying that they start to love themselves. I don’t want to go through a whole training program so I can tell people what the professionals say I should tell them. I just want to tell people that they are loved and that life is worth living and give them real, human, opinionated, unqualified advice.

I want to find the people who have gone missing in their own heads and help them find themselves. Someone I know said that you can’t be someone’s friend and help them with their mental health problems. I beg to differ. I think that sometimes, the thing that’s missing in mental health treatments is love. Sure, you can give someone advice on how to change their lives and be more optimistic and give them some drugs and hope it works, but there’s still no real human connection. I believe that human connection and communication is a hugely significant factor to living happy, healthy life.

The thing is, I’m not sure I’m ready to be a shoulder to cry on yet. I feel like there’s something or maybe a lot of things that I still need to know. I’m still naive and admittedly, kind of ignorant about a lot of things. Before I started writing this post, I read a post on a classmate’s blog. She wrote that what she wanted more than a relationship with a significant other was to be a part of a small, very close group of friends. She believes that she doesn’t have that yet because she’s not ready for it yet and she believes that God is preparing her for it. I think that’s probably true for me too. I think God probably is preparing me to be someone’s rock; whether it’s a significant other or a close friend.

No one is unqualified to save the world. No one is perfect and no one ever will be, but everyone is capable of love and if you do whatever it is you do out of love for others, then you are helping to save the world. Follow your dreams because they will make you happy and happiness is meant to be shared. Share your art or music; share your jokes; your stories; share your time; share your money; share your things. Share whatever it is you have to share. You don’t have to give everything away; you just have to share it because it will make someone happy, and if you make someone happy, you will be happy too. Sharing something solidifies a preexisting connection among all the people of the world. It turns the connection into something you can see and touch and even use. It helps to break barriers and create understanding, which will ultimately lead to peace. Maybe I’m an idealist, but I really believe that to be true.

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!

Imperfection vs Satisfaction

Is anyone ever truly satisfied? I don’t mean satisfied with one or even most parts of their lives; I mean utterly and completely satisfied. My immediate response is “No. I don’t think so.” So the question is; why is that? I think our own personal imperfections play a large part in it.

I’ve been doing fairly well lately. I’ve been getting a lot done on my album and I’ve finally killed songwriter’s block. I’ve set up a few small gigs and I’m going to start looking for more again tomorrow. I even bought a book about the music industry that I intend to read as soon as I get a good chunk of time to. I had an awesome gig last night and an awesome recording session this morning. I was feeling great about myself right up until about 8:30 tonight.

It ended up being super hot today so I decided to goof off, drink some soda and play video games for the afternoon. Well my mom was watching the news when I came down to the kitchen for dinner and apparently they’re having another tornado in Oklahoma. That was a buzz kill to say the least. My friend came over shortly after and we hung out in my basement and watched the Nostalgia Critic (who is freaking hilarious) for a few hours.

So why do I feel so crappy all of a sudden? Why is it that every time I do something remotely unproductive I feel like a loser? So far I have been pretty darn productive this summer, so why do I feel so bad about taking one day off? Maybe it’s because I’m too unrealistic with myself. I need to remind myself that it’s okay and even necessary to have some fun. I am just one girl and nobody ever said it was my job to save the world, even though I want to.

Something I’ve recently come to realize is that I’m a bit of a pushover. I didn’t like discovering that about myself. It worries me because I take a lot of crap from my brother and my friends. I know they’re only jerks in a loving sort of way, but I don’t think it’s funny all the time, and I don’t say anything. I just take it and laugh and act like everything is perfectly fine. It only really bothers me because I’m very nice to them. I can be a “loving jerk” as well, but I know when to turn it off.

This whole thing only really bothers me because I’m worried that if I’m ever in a relationship that I might let the wrong person walk all over me. I think this was an important thing to discover, freak out about and think about, but I currently don’t like it at all.

The whole point I’m trying to make is that my life freaking rocks, but I’m still unsatisfied. My parents are paying cash for me to go to college, I’m close to finishing my first album, I love God and I know he loves me, I have awesome friends, family and stuff, people like my music…. The list goes on. I have absolutely no reason to be feeling remotely unhappy tonight, but I do. On a basic level I think it’s the fact that my life is so good that’s frustrating. I have so much, but a lot of times I feel like I can’t give anything back.

I don’t actually think I’ll ever be completely satisfied even if I do become a famous musician with all kinds of resources to do good in the world because I will always feel like I could be doing more. I guess that isn’t exactly a bad feeling to have per se. I guess the bad feeling I have right now is mostly just impatience, and I guess all I can do is learn to get over it or at least ignore it and keep on trucking. I have to allow myself to have some fun and not feel guilty a out it because having fun is healthy and can be productive in some ways.

Because in my world guinea pigs can fly!